A chairde,
Silim go bfhuil se in am tosnu le sceal an tAsgard Abu agus i ar an dturas fada treasna Americea. (Literally – I’m thinking it is in time to begin with the story of the “Asgard Abu” and she on the long journey across America.) The lettering does not reflect the Irish accenting of vowels as I have not yet figured out how to program the laptop I’m using. Later with the appropriate script available I will provide bi-lingual reports.
In any event, as soon as I can reasonably come up to date I will try to provide a weekly report on the progress made across the country or wherever the adventure takes us. Actually, I began at the end of June but lost what I had written before I could send it. Sometimes this is the result of library restrictions and other times on computer problems. When possible I will e-mail reports for inclusion in the web site. As difficulties with the e mail seem to occur regularly, I will write to disc or offline in an attempt to allay the frustration and aggravation, that sweeps over me like a rogue wave from the after quarter.
Ah well, just as well I lost it anyway, for driven by sheer exhaustion and foolishness born of frustration and aggravation, I attempted to write a humorous introductory report. The result - a self indulgent and ill conceived attempt at humor on my part, to cover up the anxiety resulting from the number of setbacks and misfortunes that stalled the departure from Marina del Rey. But, a little rest has shed a better light on the delay and the humor will no doubt, gan dobhat ar domhan, return in time. So to begin my first brief report.
But, fan noimead! Wait a minute. First, let me extend a hearty welcome to all who have recently joined the adventure through the web. The web site has changed quite a bit and will no doubt continue to do so as others join and contribute their experience and we experiment together. The schedule posted has gone through changes also and will need to be updated again in the next few days. For the web we are indebted to the skills and experience of a truly great friend, Leonid Gorkin. With luck in the near future we can match photos to reports and provide links to other related sites, such as mmara, oceanrowing, celtic studies, etc.
Which reminds me! I must thank all those whose invaluable assistance makes the adventure possible. That includes not only those who directly volunteer their time and energy but also those who volunteer their advice, be it followed or not, and all those who meet in person or simply through the ether. I will try to mention each and all of you as time goes by but should anyone feel overlooked or neglected or slighted please accept my apology and give me a call. You can be sure it was an oversight and unintended. Just as they say “there is no such thing as bad publicity” on this journey there is no such thing as bad advice or to little support, for a quest that seeks to spread the use and appreciation of an ancient and beautiful tongue.
Changes to the website and plans come both from natural growth and unexpected setbacks. What at first appears as a setback or misfortune often turns out to be a blessing in disguise. The first delay after leaving the boatyard was caused by the need for a complete overhaul of the trailer braking system and of the transmission mechanism on the 1 ton ’83 Ford 350 truck with the 460 engine. The delay resulted in the unfortunate withdrawal of one person. However, two others offered to join on the first leg of the journey across the U.S. But unfortunately, they also had to withdraw when further mishaps and needed repairs forced another delay.
Working out the bugs and coping with the unexpected and oversights, while at the same time attempting to put together a script, and recruit performers, camera operators and other needed volunteers, gave me a real appreciation of how it must have been fixing wheels, reconstructing and jury –rigging yokes, wood frames and canvas, curing sick pack animals and tending to the needs of the performers of the traveling theaters in the days of the wagon train and frontier towns! Aptly named “prairie schooners” they were. Hard to believe it was such a short few years ago that they sailed across this land and that my grandfather and the grandparents of others reading this today also rode on them in and out of San Francisco and Los Angeles. And with many a tale to show for it. Why not share some of them with us?
A number of economic and other problems caused numerous difficulties and obstacles in the initial stages of the project. Not least of which was convincing others of the viability of the project. Then came locating and securing a vessel to meet the safety and symbolic requirements for the dramatic presentation intended. Once located and secured next came the problem of getting it to the east coast and ultimately Nova Scotia. Canada. Many options were considered in the long search for an economic form of transportation to Cape Breton, Nova Scotia the intended final departure point from North America. It is there that the 36’ Angelman ketch will join the 26’ naomhog “An Claidheamh Soluis” for the journey to Ireland. In the end an overland route was decided on. Among the many options considered over the past couple of years, was whether to sail down the west coast and through the Panama canal or take the northern route through the Northwest Passage. The telling of that story must wait for another day to be aired and set aloft on the breeze.
Finally, after two years delay we made it to the boatyard for preparation for the overland journey. The immediate financial problems of gaining a spot in the yard were complicated by an unfortunate death in the family. But even that misfortune resulted in a great kindness being extended to us from the owner and staff of Beneteau Yachts on Bali Way, in Marina del Rey. Due to the kindness and generosity of Craig, one of the owners of “The Boatyard” at Marina del Rey (a proud Celt himself) it was made it possible for us to continue to go forward with a very reasonable deal and payment arrangements. We are still in debt somewhat for this and will appreciate any and all help in retiring the debt.
Immediately prior to going in the yard and while at the yard, a number of options were considered on how to get across the U.S. The first choice was to ship professionally directly to the east coast and then sail to Nova Scotia. The next choice was to professionally transport the boat and make a stop in Chicago for the St. Patrick’s day celebrations and then on to Boston. Another possibility was to seek a shipper who might be dead-heading to the east coast. Originally there was no thought of doing any major work in the yard other than to unstep the masts and prepare the sailboat for shipping. We were attempting to reach Cape Breton by the end of July.
One of the volunteers and supporters, G.L. Kelly, who seemed very knowledgeable about such matters, was convincing in his argument that, for just a little extra money than we would have to pay for shipping, we could get our own rig (Cummings diesel) and trailer. His argument was very attractive and persuasive that at the other end we could sell them again and recoup some of our capital and we abandoned the shipper plan. This plan would allow for side trips and extra time to visit with sympathetic communities or participate in special events if the opportunity arose. Although we abandoned the direct shipment plan it was not before we met with Jack, a colorful character in his own right – but that too is another story for another day.
These plans in turn proved far more expensive than JL figured and had to be modified. It would take time to find something we could afford. Whatever could go wrong did, but Murphy’s Law proved to be a blessing in disguise. The many setbacks encountered resulted in giant leaps forward and qualitatively advanced the original concept, since it brought out the cooperative and compassionate spirit of people. It also provided excellent opportunities for “hands on” involvement in the project and resulted in strong friendships being formed while overcoming what appeared at times to be insurmountable obstacles. However, the delays encountered were caused by extreme circumstances and events and resulted in further delay of these reports being mailed and posted on the web. Excuses, excuses, Brian!
It is now at the end of July and I am writing from Buttonwillow which is about 9 miles south-west of Shafter and 22 miles or so north of Bakersfield. During the past three weeks Asgard Abu (mas e sin le bheith mar ainm ar an mbad) and I, have had the good fortune to have met some of the most friendly, hospitable, caring and generous people you can imagine – Tony Bryan, (much to whose chagrin and a piece of his tongue, I once misstated his name as Bryant – won’t make that mistake again – me of all people giving a militant Irishman an english name), Seamus, who taught himself a remarkable amount of Irish from a book with little or no human interaction, Luis Bravos, Joy Kennedy, John Gearhard and his adventurous son Bart, Wes Selvidge, Gary, mayor Hall’s chief mechanic, Jack Frey, J.B. Selvidge, Brandon and other workers on the Tracy ranch, David Nigel Lloyd, Gita, Ursula, Jennifer, Phil Neufield, a Kern Co. fireman and generous donor, ) Sherry and Robert and a 17 member family from Oklahoma, who could not find work under conditions reminiscent of Steinbeck’s “Grapes of Wrath.”
One evening we visited Weedpatch and the Sunset camp and shared some music with the children of the present residents. David on guitar, Jill Eglin on accordion and Jennifer were a big hit. Some of the old buildings still remain but much has changed. Curiously, little of the history seems to have been handed on to the present farmworkers who, for the most part, are Mexican migratory workers.
Later that evening, a very hot and sultry and clammy, Arvin evening, while sitting on the grass in front of the Sunset school, we recalled other times and different takes on the history of the area. I had only a ghost-like memory of the area that played such a prominent role in my life 22 years ago. Passionate debate was interspersed with stories from the lives of the traveling artists and organizers. Songs of Woody Guthrie led to stories about Arlo, Robin and Pete, as dark descended upon us and successfully disguised a sudden unexpected attack from an unexpected quarter. Not dogs, goons or hostile cops but an unremitting deluge unleashed from the sprinklers that now provides a cover of green to an area that in some respects has not changed so very much from the days of the bare, brown and sun-baked California clay.
With the help and friendship of these and other wonderfully generous people we have overcome enormous obstacles, we have secured a rig capable of towing Asgard Abu and are again about to venture forth on our journey north. But for now I will shorten the account of the events to date so that we can get a start at these reports. Later, I will return to provide more details of some of the more dramatic and humorous events that have occurred. Fleshing out stories like the time in Marina del Rey when I was runover on my bicycle not twenty minutes after taking out auto insurance. I came too lying in the middle of the road to hear an argument raging between a racist and the woman driver of the offending vehicle who believed that homeless people covered in blood were only worth offering $5.
I believe that we have arrived at the stage now where the uncertainty to date has been brought within manageable bounds and there will be time now to keep a regular and thorough log. As time goes by I will try to bring out more of the details of the events to date. The important thing is that the adventure continues to go forward. That last sentence was written in Buttonwillow. However, it is now August 31, 2004 and I am at the Sonoma Marina in Marin County, California. Much more has been written but I will just publish this much as an introduction and follow later with other sections covering Marina del Rey, Bakersfield, San Juan Bautista, San Francisco and Sonoma County in the Bay Area. The next section will cover the beginning of the adventure and feature all of those noble spirits who helped to put us aground. No pun intended! It will take us up to and possibly beyond the launching party at the California Yacht Club, the invitation to the “Adventurer's Club” and the welcome support of Angelica Huston.