I was a military Brat, My father was an enlisted man in the U.S. Air Force, I grew up on Military bases and or military communities in town. Although it was a traditional house, with a conservative father it wasn't totalitarian, my mother would never have allowed that. In my teens, my mother and I had many "discussions" about the world.
My dad got out when I was 10 years old. It seemed we moved just as much after the Air force as we did when he was in. I was always the "New Kid". Always on the outside looking in. This creates an unusual perspective. A child learns to not form close attachments, he/she learns to rely on his own judgement. Too ofter people would judge me without knowing anything about me. It is easy to paint the new kid as "Other", not one of us. I learned at an early age to not care what other people thought of me. To realize that they were not very intellegent and quite often, very narrow minded.
I learned that my happiess could not be based upon other people, but had to come from within. While there have been many times I have been unhappy in life, I always realized that it was up to me to change my situation. I think this is one of the most valuable lessons I ever learned.
I believe that most of us know when things are "right" and when they are "wrong". Avoid those situations that bring on the "wrong". If you in the wrong situation, figure out what the right one would be, figure out the path to the right situation and start moving down it. You will notice immediately how much better you feel about yourself once you are headed in the right direction.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Generational Advances
My grandmother (Gertrude Johnson) was born in 1900, 3 years before the Wright Brothers flew at Kitty Hawk and died in 1972, 3 years after Armstrong walked on the moon. Her generation saw remarkable advances in transportation. Her world was a great deal larger than her parents.
My father was born in 1927, 2 years before the great depression and died in 1997. he was born into a farm house with out electricity, indoor plumbing, or a phone. Only 45 years after his birth, he had a suburban house, with air conditioning, a refrigerator, a back yard pool and 2 cars. His generastion saw remarkable advances in personal comforts and material wealth. he live an easier more comfortable life than his parents.
I was born in 1959, before the first communication satilittes, into a world on 1 phone per house that you "rented" from the sole phone company, and 3 channels on the black and white TV. Today, I can watch my nephew pitch baseball in Maryland on my computer, I can scratch my Information habit by simply accessing the internet. I have seen great advances in the ability to access information and enterainment. I know more and experience more.
How will my kids lives be different than mine? I believe they will be a great deal longer. Micro-Biology, nano technoly, will extend life significantly. will they be saying, my parents lived 70 years, I lived 140 years?
My father was born in 1927, 2 years before the great depression and died in 1997. he was born into a farm house with out electricity, indoor plumbing, or a phone. Only 45 years after his birth, he had a suburban house, with air conditioning, a refrigerator, a back yard pool and 2 cars. His generastion saw remarkable advances in personal comforts and material wealth. he live an easier more comfortable life than his parents.
I was born in 1959, before the first communication satilittes, into a world on 1 phone per house that you "rented" from the sole phone company, and 3 channels on the black and white TV. Today, I can watch my nephew pitch baseball in Maryland on my computer, I can scratch my Information habit by simply accessing the internet. I have seen great advances in the ability to access information and enterainment. I know more and experience more.
How will my kids lives be different than mine? I believe they will be a great deal longer. Micro-Biology, nano technoly, will extend life significantly. will they be saying, my parents lived 70 years, I lived 140 years?
Friday, June 24, 2011
Story Ideads
1. A single Space astronaught is sent in a ship on a 200 year voyage to a new star and new planet, the first person every sent on such an exploration. He suffers through 200 years of bordom just to be know as the first person to colonize a new planet in a new solar system. He will get to name everything, River Jones, Mountain Smith, etc. He get there to find that humans arrived 100 years earlier, they found a fast travel method.
2. "I turned 21 in prison doing life without Parol" the ultimate waisted life. By 21 Alexander had conquered half the world. Why do some lives turn out so differently? No one could create an empire now. But maybe in the future, in space, someone could create an empire of known worlds, Could it be someone who started out in Prison, with a wasted life and changed enough to gather the resouces, and support necessary to create an empire, and if so how?
3. A Space life boat lands on a new planet, how do modern people survive without technology, or very limited tech. How do humans interact with new life, You don't know what is poisoneous, what animals are agressive, how do you make fire when you lasers don't work. What is that sound in the bush at night.
More later
2. "I turned 21 in prison doing life without Parol" the ultimate waisted life. By 21 Alexander had conquered half the world. Why do some lives turn out so differently? No one could create an empire now. But maybe in the future, in space, someone could create an empire of known worlds, Could it be someone who started out in Prison, with a wasted life and changed enough to gather the resouces, and support necessary to create an empire, and if so how?
3. A Space life boat lands on a new planet, how do modern people survive without technology, or very limited tech. How do humans interact with new life, You don't know what is poisoneous, what animals are agressive, how do you make fire when you lasers don't work. What is that sound in the bush at night.
More later
Thursday, June 2, 2011
a Humble Winston Churchill
In the summer of 1941 Sergeant James Allen Ward was awarded the Victoria Cross for climbing out onto the wing of his Wellington bomber, 13,000 feet above the Zuider Zee, to extinguish a fire in the starboard engine. Secured only by a rope around his waist, he managed not only to smother the fire but also to return along the wing to the aircraft's cabin. Churchill, an admirer as well as a performer of swashbuckling exploits, summoned the shy New Zealander to 10 Downing Street. Ward, struck dumb with awe in Churchill's presence, was unable to answer the prime minister's questions. Churchill surveyed the unhappy hero with some compassion. "You must feel very humble and awkward in my presence," he said.
"Yes, sir," managed Ward.
"Then you can imagine how humble and awkward I feel in yours
"Yes, sir," managed Ward.
"Then you can imagine how humble and awkward I feel in yours
Monday, May 9, 2011
I remember Mama
Saw the movie "I remember Mama" with Irene Dunn last night. I remember seeing it years ago when my kids were very little and thinking. That is what people should be shooting for. A life of simple yet vast importance. A life focused on raising your children, helping those around you. And being the rock they lean upon. The most succesful business man, or rock star, or high priced actress will not be as important to your life and history, as your mother will be. Or as you will be to your children.
Thanks Mom
Thanks Mom
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wonders of the World
Truely Miraculous Things
- A baby's Smile
- The Aurora Boriealis
- The Cliff dwellings at Mesa Verda
- Flying Fish
- Sunrise over a trout stream
- Sunset over the Southern Pacific ocean
- The curve of my wife's hip
- A well writen sentance
- The Moon landing
- "Pride and Joy" by Stevie Ray Vaughn
- The breath of a warm wind on a cool night
- The night sky over the Arizona desert
and finally
- A man exercising the right to vote
- A baby's Smile
- The Aurora Boriealis
- The Cliff dwellings at Mesa Verda
- Flying Fish
- Sunrise over a trout stream
- Sunset over the Southern Pacific ocean
- The curve of my wife's hip
- A well writen sentance
- The Moon landing
- "Pride and Joy" by Stevie Ray Vaughn
- The breath of a warm wind on a cool night
- The night sky over the Arizona desert
and finally
- A man exercising the right to vote
St. Mathews Island Part 1
“All hands on Deck” “All hands on Deck” yelled the 1st class Boatswain Mate as he walked through the berthing area, rousting us from our racks in the middle of the night. “Dress warm ladies, its colder than a which’s tit, lay to the foc’sle and grab an ax handle. Its going to be a long night.”
We were steaming north into a ranging gale, 2 Korean fishing trawlers with 161 men aboard had become trapped in the pack ice off of St Mathews Island in the north Bearing Sea. The winter pack ice had moved south at an unexpectedly quick rate and caught the trawler unaware.
The Cutter Storis was built in 1943 as a small Ice Breaker and had seen time in Greenland during the war and had been the first vessel to circumnavigate the North American Continent traveling across the north of Canada in 1952, but that was during the summer.
This however was the dead of winter. We were having problems long before we got to the Pack Ice. The usual north wind had generated 20ft swells and we were headed directly into them. Every time we hit a wave we would bury our bow and generate huge showers of sea spray, the spray would land on deck and immediately freeze, this created more weight, causing more spray and more ice, an endless cycle that was causing us to become top heavy and in danger of capsizing. The American crab boats would have the same problem and every year 1 or more would capsize with all hands lost. So the bos’wain was getting everyone on deck to break up the ice.
We put on sweaters and then heavy arctic parkas, this was the late 70’s, no GORTEX or other fancy stuff, cloth parkas with fur lined hoods. And thick fur lined gloves that reached to your elbow. Twenty of us mustered at the foc’sle hatch and grabbed ax handles and baseball bats and made our way onto the foc’sle. The deck crew had previously put up “Life Lines” across the deck. We grabbed these as we made our way forward. The ship had slowed down but was still rising and falling 20 ft every 15 seconds. You learned to control it with your knees. At the bottom, you flexed to take the weight, at the top you flexed to keep yourself from being launched into the sky. Like trying to stop yourself on a trampoline, only it never stops. This is one of the reasons my knees are sore to this day. 10 years of doing this stuff. When the spray hit us, we turned our backs to it. We were soon covered in ice ourselves but continue on. There was no other option. We had to get to the fishermen, and to do so we had to break off the ice.
Once on the foc’sle we started swinging our bats at the ice while others shoveled it over the side. You tried to hit the ice as hard as you could without slipping off the deck into the water. As they say one hand for the ship and one for yourself. We did this for about an hour till we had removed the danger then returned to the warm Mess deck, knowing we would have to do this again in a few hours. Ah to be in the British Navy and issued a cup of grog. Nothing for the U.S. Sailor, the puritans wouldn’t allow it. So, All night, 1 hour on deck, 2 hours getting warm, repeat.
After 2 days we finally reached the Pack Ice, this was my first time seeing it, some observations: the Swells were moving it up and down at the edges but within a few hundred yards, the swells had vanished, all the power that tossed our ship around so easily, could be tamed with a few inches of ice spread over hundreds of square mile. The Sky was blue and ice was White, whiter than anything I have ever seen, You had to wear sun glasses, even a few minutes and you would go blind. I also learned that the Ice was not one big piece, like on a lake or pond. But was constantly moving, large sections 100s of yards wide would rub up against other sections. Everything was slowly moving about, creating ridges and valleys, similar to Tectonic plates, but on a much smaller scale.
We made our way into the ice, at first we progressed easily, it was only a few inches thick and the Storis was made for this stuff, even when it thickened to 6 inches we continued on. A constant groaning sound coming from the hull. Down in the berthing area it was so loud that it was difficult to sleep.
After a day of steady progress we came to a sudden stop. The ice had become over 2 ft thick and we could go no further. At this point the Bridge watch started to look for breaks in the ice, long leads where the ice had split apart, sometimes as much as a 100 ft wide. These leads would open up, then close again a few minutes later. We would then back up and ram our way into a lead, travel a mile or so, then back and ram our way into anther lead, continually traveling in a northerly direction to the Korean Fishing trawlers.
I had established contact with the Korean trawlers earlier in the day via Morse code, everyone onboard was OK and the ships had not experienced any damage yet, but they were firmly held by the ice and being pushed towards the island a few miles away, It was critical that we get there before they went aground. The island was uninhabited, so we could expect no rescue efforts from shore, if the ships were pushed aground, the ships would break up and the men would be unable to make it ashore, they might be able to evacuate to the ice, but close to shore the ice had a habit of breaking up. It was a dicey situation…….
See Part II in next post
We were steaming north into a ranging gale, 2 Korean fishing trawlers with 161 men aboard had become trapped in the pack ice off of St Mathews Island in the north Bearing Sea. The winter pack ice had moved south at an unexpectedly quick rate and caught the trawler unaware.
The Cutter Storis was built in 1943 as a small Ice Breaker and had seen time in Greenland during the war and had been the first vessel to circumnavigate the North American Continent traveling across the north of Canada in 1952, but that was during the summer.
This however was the dead of winter. We were having problems long before we got to the Pack Ice. The usual north wind had generated 20ft swells and we were headed directly into them. Every time we hit a wave we would bury our bow and generate huge showers of sea spray, the spray would land on deck and immediately freeze, this created more weight, causing more spray and more ice, an endless cycle that was causing us to become top heavy and in danger of capsizing. The American crab boats would have the same problem and every year 1 or more would capsize with all hands lost. So the bos’wain was getting everyone on deck to break up the ice.
We put on sweaters and then heavy arctic parkas, this was the late 70’s, no GORTEX or other fancy stuff, cloth parkas with fur lined hoods. And thick fur lined gloves that reached to your elbow. Twenty of us mustered at the foc’sle hatch and grabbed ax handles and baseball bats and made our way onto the foc’sle. The deck crew had previously put up “Life Lines” across the deck. We grabbed these as we made our way forward. The ship had slowed down but was still rising and falling 20 ft every 15 seconds. You learned to control it with your knees. At the bottom, you flexed to take the weight, at the top you flexed to keep yourself from being launched into the sky. Like trying to stop yourself on a trampoline, only it never stops. This is one of the reasons my knees are sore to this day. 10 years of doing this stuff. When the spray hit us, we turned our backs to it. We were soon covered in ice ourselves but continue on. There was no other option. We had to get to the fishermen, and to do so we had to break off the ice.
Once on the foc’sle we started swinging our bats at the ice while others shoveled it over the side. You tried to hit the ice as hard as you could without slipping off the deck into the water. As they say one hand for the ship and one for yourself. We did this for about an hour till we had removed the danger then returned to the warm Mess deck, knowing we would have to do this again in a few hours. Ah to be in the British Navy and issued a cup of grog. Nothing for the U.S. Sailor, the puritans wouldn’t allow it. So, All night, 1 hour on deck, 2 hours getting warm, repeat.
After 2 days we finally reached the Pack Ice, this was my first time seeing it, some observations: the Swells were moving it up and down at the edges but within a few hundred yards, the swells had vanished, all the power that tossed our ship around so easily, could be tamed with a few inches of ice spread over hundreds of square mile. The Sky was blue and ice was White, whiter than anything I have ever seen, You had to wear sun glasses, even a few minutes and you would go blind. I also learned that the Ice was not one big piece, like on a lake or pond. But was constantly moving, large sections 100s of yards wide would rub up against other sections. Everything was slowly moving about, creating ridges and valleys, similar to Tectonic plates, but on a much smaller scale.
We made our way into the ice, at first we progressed easily, it was only a few inches thick and the Storis was made for this stuff, even when it thickened to 6 inches we continued on. A constant groaning sound coming from the hull. Down in the berthing area it was so loud that it was difficult to sleep.
After a day of steady progress we came to a sudden stop. The ice had become over 2 ft thick and we could go no further. At this point the Bridge watch started to look for breaks in the ice, long leads where the ice had split apart, sometimes as much as a 100 ft wide. These leads would open up, then close again a few minutes later. We would then back up and ram our way into a lead, travel a mile or so, then back and ram our way into anther lead, continually traveling in a northerly direction to the Korean Fishing trawlers.
I had established contact with the Korean trawlers earlier in the day via Morse code, everyone onboard was OK and the ships had not experienced any damage yet, but they were firmly held by the ice and being pushed towards the island a few miles away, It was critical that we get there before they went aground. The island was uninhabited, so we could expect no rescue efforts from shore, if the ships were pushed aground, the ships would break up and the men would be unable to make it ashore, they might be able to evacuate to the ice, but close to shore the ice had a habit of breaking up. It was a dicey situation…….
See Part II in next post
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)