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Following is a message about our 57th-Year Reunion from Rod
Hi, Roxann. It wasn't my idea to get my picture taken. You will have to blame Becky Brock Ridenaur, my pen pal, and the irresistible charm of your son and his wife, who were quite persuasive after luring folks into the back room to see the beautiful, colorized photos. I arrived at the reunion just before Becky and watched her park her SUV to perfection, backing it equidistant between the lines after several attempts. She did not recognize me, but I knew it was competitive Becky, who had to outdo my sloppy parking job by at least 8 inches. What a thrill to see Allen Taylor, childhood neighbor and little league pitcher, who lived down the street from local celebrity, Sheriff Spud! I tried to sit at the popular kids' table with Randy Hulbert and Saint Win (he sure married up, didn't he?), but the seats were saved. I had to make a new friend, the effervescent Marcy Richards! I didn't know her in high school, probably because she ate lunch at the Cathedral of the Rockies with her dad, Reverend Richards. She brought her yearbook, which had a plastic cover, and is in pristine condition. I felt a slight twinge of sadness when I recognized the distinctive penmanship of Cheryl Morton, who had also signed mine. At our table was the ageless Gail Chaloupka and Dallas Flahaven, brainiacs in high school with whom I shared several classes. Of course, the Benjamin Button award for reverse aging has to go to Shirley Ewing! She looked absolutely stunning and has my vote for 55th (57th) reunion queen. It was nice to see Marilee Locklear from a Cappella choir, who could have been my karaoke singing buddy, but alas, there was no karaoke! No dancing either, and Mary Hassan looked as though she could still do a mean swing dance. One gentleman, who remembered the Kent Scott golf scramble from the 50th, sighed as he stared out of the giant picture windows. I still can't believe how, even with Dr. Ace Jones' connections, your committee was able to provide such an elegant venue, delicious catering, monogrammed swag bags, and superior service from the country club staff for just $19.65! Never has a reunion offered so much for so little cash. It was indeed a journey back in time to 1965 prices! Oh, and I met the delightful lady (Teresa Hammer, maybe? I didn't get her name, regrettably) who had gone to a school dance with Dean Connolly, and who dated several boys in our class just once each. She is a natural storyteller and every one of her shared memories made me smile. I was also fascinated by the story about "Connolly's Canaries" with Tony Olson and John Luque and touched by the poignant letter from Jim Stearns' widow. My only wish is that more of our class could have been there. They will never know how much they missed!
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fantastic trombone player passed away yesterday of a heart attack. Roxann will post his obituary as soon as it appears in the Statesman. Sue Ann Website address: http://boisehighclassof1965.com 
losing John. -------- Forwarded Message --------
Sent from my phone
one I had the most respect for. He was a serious guy. This world is a lesser place with his passing.
From: Douglas Cochrane Date: Tuesday, April 18, 2017 at 9:19 PM Subject: Re: John King's Passing
We have a nice private guest suite awaiting your arrival. Orion is for sale in Anacortes. Our ocean voyaging has come to an end. Aging happens. We will take a gap year then probably by a smaller simpler boat suitable for cruising the Salish Sea from here to Alaska. Cheers! Douglas & Gerry Cochrane 1307 Pear St NE, Olympia WA 98506 541/913-0632 On Apr 19, 2017, at 2:10 PM, W RAND SUE ANN BAXTER <BAXTERRUS@msn.com> wrote: Hi Doug--Roxann and I did check with each other and see if you only took the other one out to lunch and we were out of luck! wasn't the case..... I would love to see you and Gerry. How is it living on land? Do you still have your beautiful boat? Big hugs--Sue Ann Sent: Wednesday, April 19, 2017 8:20 AM To: W RAND SUE ANN BAXTER Subject: Re: John King's Passing Sue Ann, I cut my Boise visit short so I was unable to call you. Gerry and I have moved ashore so we are more accessible than before. If you happen to be near Olympia, please give us a call. Douglas Cochrane 1307 Pear St. NE, Olympia WA 98506 541/913-0632 On Apr 19, 2017, at 6:38 AM, W RAND SUE ANN BAXTER <BAXTERRUS@msn.com> wrote: Thank you, Doug, for your kind words. I know he will be missed. Sue Ann Sent: Tuesday, April 18, 2017 10:19 PM To: John Spoljaric Cc: Beth Mather; Charles and Carol Wardle; Dallas Young; Gwyn Tipton; Jerry Williams; Jim Tibbs; Lynn Johnson; Michael Maher; Ray Grant; Roxann Howell Dehlin; Sally Tom; Shirley ewing; W RAND SUE ANN BAXTER Subject: Re: John King's Passing
legs :-) Roxann
they are all very positive: the many things I loved about the man. In fact he never was a kid, even in the 7th grade he was already a man, sporting a 3 PM shadow at age 12 ! And, he always was just more mature than me; more focused than most of us. I really saw him as a brusquely warm and funny grown up , dedicated to every task with the integrity of a wise and older man. John was a driving force within our incredible BHS Band and Orchestra. He and Mr. Shelton formed a growing immutable force, into unstoppable success. Once, Mr. Shelton confided in me that he had watched John all during his junior high years; waiting excitedly to get John in his band. Mel was a builder of people; and, he built a lot of very fine people. John was his apprentice and understudy. Of course, his own career built upon all that Mr. Shelton had given him; all that he gathered from his own resources; and, doubtlessly from all the other mentors he attracted. I suspect John was also a dedicated builder of people during his career. Another very significant person in John's life was John Spoljaric. In the 7th grade band at NJHS, the two Johns formed a friendship that grew and lasted for more than 6 decades. At first John King was pretty seclusive and shy. John Spoljaric was the band's social sparkplug. He made friends of all of us, especially John King. Spoljaric brought out King's hidden personality and his incredible wit. It is my opinion that this influence enabled John King to become a very able social being. Success in life can be measured in many parameters, but the greatest of these measurements is the quality of John King's soul in the eyes of God. Most sincerely, Chuck Wardle
to me in the BHS orchestra. In my eyes and ears he was a perfect musician, always prepared and serious. When he played the trombone, all of us were in awe, and when Mel Shelton gave him a solo opportunity the room would grow quiet. The way John could play complicated runs was unbelievable. He was truly gifted. In sympathy, Shirley Ewing |
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Pam was my first girlfriend. We were in the 4th grade.
She loved horses so I invited her to our farm on North 36th street to go riding on one of our horses. At that age I could hardly saddle a horse. We rode all day with her behind me, hugging me so she
wouldn't fall off. We rode up to the hills where Hillside Junior High is now located. Pam's home was right there behind the bakery at Hill Road and 36th street. A few days after that horse ride, either she or I asked the other if we wanted to go "steady". I was very shy but I think I was the one that asked her. So I tied a knot in her chain and that was it. I don't think we even talked much after that and
have no idea how long she kept the knot in her chain. I remember Pamela as a wonderful person and hope that she is now living in green pastures with lots of beautiful horses to ride. Stan Hosac |
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From: douglas_cochrane@msn.com Date: Sat, 27 Jun 2015 To: baxterrus@msn.com Dear Sue Ann, I am amazed at the effort you have put into keeping track of our huge class of '65. Without people like you, we might never meet again as a group. We were so lucky to grow up in Boise when we did. Boise was a wealthy city for its size, thanks in part to its location and the Idaho gold rush. People like Harry Morrison, Joe Albertson, and Jack Simplot led the way. Our generation reaped the benefits of that wealth as our parents were willing to invest in our education. So BHS got a well-equipped ndustrial Arts building, a shiny new music building with private practice rooms and fancy uniforms for the marching band, the Thunderbirds, and the cheerleaders. The sports programs got plenty of support against the new arch rival, the dreaded Borah Lions. That wealth spilled over to the nearby Andrew Carnegie public library, which was the equivalent of the high speed Internet in its time, a source of information on a myriad of topics. We got well educated, dedicated teachers like Miss Kinyon, Helen Farrer, Pat Bieter, Jim Hopper, and Mel Shelton. We graduated with a better education than many present day college students. Since most travel in those days was by train, many famous people chose to stop in Boise between Salt Lake and Portland. So we got to a ttend concerts by the like of Jascha Heifetz, Raphael Mendez, Louis Armstrong, Al Hirt, and Country Joe McDonald. Not to mention the local talent displayed during Music Week and the spectacles put on by Henry Von der Heide, when hundreds of innocent children froze their nookies off creeching the final notes of the Star-Spangled Banner as Air Force Reserves jets roared overhead, When we graduated Boise High, we had opportunities to go in a hundreds different directions. And now we gather again, having gone in hundreds of directions. Some went to prison, rightly or wrongly. Others of us beat Sheriff Shiny to the border and got our higher education in the Haight Ashbury. We have doctors, lawyers, judges, executives, financial wizards, engineers, entrepreneurs, and even the odd ski bum or sea gypsy in our cohort. Looking back we have much to be grateful for and much incentive to pass it on to the generations to follow. Let's spend our remaining years focused outwardly to make the world around us a better place. Well done, Class of 1965! Pass it on... Respectfully submitted, Douglas Cochrane |
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I'm pleased to pass this on to our classmates - what a wonderful
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Blog from Douglas Cochrane
Greetings from M/V Orion, March 1, 2013 We’ve had several queries about where we are and what we are doing so I guess it’s time for another newsletter from the fine ship Orion. This message comes with the usual caveat – if you don’t have time or interest for our adventures, let us know and we’ll take you off the list. We spent a wonderful month or so with family and friends in Oregon for the holidays, including a trip to Kansas for Thanksgiving with our son Steven and family, a trip to San Antonio with daughter Firiel and son in law Shawn to hear grandsons Jered and Brady play in the OSU band at the Alamo bowl, and a fun trip to Hawaii with our daughter Kris and her family. Then we headed south by car, bound for La Paz, Baja Sur, Mexico. Most folks would hop a plane and be there the same day. But Orion has a canine infestation and we won’t put them in the hold of a plane. So we piled dogs and a ton of supplies in a rental van and took off on another adventure. Our friends Spike and Mariana Webb joined us in Ensenada. They live there, know the Baja well, and are fluent in Spanish. Together we spent three days wending our way down through very interesting and varied terrain. Part of the time the highway runs near the Pacific Ocean. Part of the time was the sort of desert you’d expect from the Baja with huge saguaro cactus and one long stretch that looks like an enormous boulder field. We spent a night at Baja’s oldest restaurant/motel in El Rosario. The proprietress is 106 years old and still sharp as a tack. Her large family keeps the business going. It is a favorite stopping spot for the Baja off road crowd and is filled with autographed photos of famous drivers from around the world. The next night was at Santa Rosalia, a copper mining town that was originally French. It was very interesting since the buildings are all wood instead of adobe or stone. The church was designed and fabricated from metal by Eiffel in France and shipped over for erection. From there to La Paz was largely along the Sea of Cortez. It was beautiful with many large coves filled with cruising boats. La Paz itself is one of our favorite cities with a long beautiful malecon (boardwalk or promenade) along the shore with bandstands, bronze sculptures, restaurants, and little craft booths. A week after leaving Oregon, we arrived back aboard Orion at the Costa Baja Resort and Marina. After a short stay our friends Stan and Diane Heirshberg joined us for the passage across the Sea of Cortez. We were a little nervous about the crossing since our buddy boating friends Rick and Nicki Hudson got spanked pretty hard a couple of weeks earlier on their crossing. But our timing was perfect – flat seas, no moon, a myriad of stars like you rarely see from the well-lit shores. On the midnight watch I stepped outside to look for traffic and saw that we were surrounded by dolphins. It was a dark night with lots of phosphorescence in the water. I could see the dolphins deep in the water, with a glowing trail behind them. When they broached to breathe the sparkles went everywhere. It was so magical I could scarcely stand to go back inside. They ran with us for over an hour. After a 25 hour passage, we arrived at the El Cid marina in Mazatlan. It is a cute little pocket harbor in the midst of a lovely resort. Best of all, we found that we had arrived just in time for Carnival, the local celebration of Mardi Gras. The town was all dressed up for a party – and what a party it was! All along the malecon were booths and walking vendors selling everything from masks to beer. A friend of ours said their bus driver coming into town stopped in the middle of traffic, ran over to a beer stand for a refreshment, then continued driving into town. The locals had claimed their spaces along the malecon by mid-afternoon. Yachtistas signed up for a wonderful Mexican buffet at one of the local hotels, which included reserved seating. The parade started at 5:00 P.M. at the far south end of town. It didn’t reach our location until 7:30 and didn’t finish passing us until nearly 10:00. The first thing in the parade was a large cargo van filled with rockets. A fellow walked in front of the van and kept arming himself with a handful of rockets which he would aim at the sky and ignite. We were happy he didn’t stumble and fire one into the crowd. (This was not an OSHA approved activity!) The parade was amazing. Marching bands – some marching in step, others wandering along with maybe just the drum and one trumpet playing his own melody. Lots of dance clubs of all sorts with kids, adults, and oldsters. Elegant, gaudy floats with rock or mariachi bands and princesses vying for Queen of the Carnival. There was a lot of interaction with the crowd. The pretty girl sitting in front of us was wooed by a number of young men marching by, who would stop and pull her into the street for a dance and maybe a kiss. People would run out in the street to get their pictures taken with friends in the parade. The Mexicans are generally a very joyful people and this was one of their favorite times of the year. The frosting on the cake was the Brazilian floats at the end. Suffice it to say that the beauty of the young women and men was surpassed only by the skimpiness of their elaborate costumes. It was not something we see in the Yachats Fourth of July parade. We also took a tour with two women tour guides to a charming inland village, very clean and nicely painted in bright colors. The lunch restaurant was beautiful with many plants, parrots in cages, and chickens walking under the tables. Stan called Gerry into the mens room to see the artwork and she got a picture of him kissing a clay pig. Turns out the pig was actually the urinal but who cares? It was the best time. It was a treat to head inland and see a non- tourista town. After a few days, we headed south on an overnight run to San Blas, a dusty little town with a pretty church and active market. It was very buggy and hard to get the dogs ashore so we made a quick shore visit and continued south. Our favorite anchorage to date was at the beautiful little village of Chacala. Our good friends Denny and Lauri Justis have been going there for a month or so every winter so we stopped by for a visit. What a place! It is an easy though rolly anchorage, with a long sandy beach with asmall surf and palapas selling good food and margaritas. Sun, ocean and good friends - it doesn’t get any better than this. One day we took a collective – an 8 passenger taxi that runs from the small villages out to the highway – to Las Varas, the nearby market town. Ostensibly we were going shopping but the real reason was to sightsee and have lunch. It worked – we found the best rellenos con camarones of our life. The funniest part of the day was our trip home. We flagged down a collective that was headed to Chacala. Six of us and the driver in an 8 passenger van. Then the driver told us he needed to stop by the school to pick up his chico. No problemo! So the chico and his friends started piling in. It was like the clown act at the circus where the clowns keep pouring out of the little car, but in reverse. By the time we left the curb there were 17 people aboard, stacked on each other, sitting on the floor, etc. As we pulled away, I encouraged everyone to fasten their seat belts. Another non-OSHA event. There are three marinas in Banderas Bay: La Cruz, Marina Vallarta, and Paradise Village. We’ve done the Goldilocks routine here. First we went to La Cruz which is a pleasant new marina n ext to dusty little fishing village. Next was Marina Vallarta, which is the closest to the old town of Puerto Vallarta and the malecon. It was a well-protected marina completely surrounded by high rise condos, restaurants, and shops. Unfortunately the marina is in receivership and the docks were literally falling apart. Stan and D iane jumped ship as it is the closest marina to the airport. Choice #3, Paradise Village was just right! It is a five star resort with a nice marina attached. We have several friends here, new and used, including Rick and Nicki who buddy boated down Oregon, California, and the Baja with us and are now headed North, returning to the States at the end of the season. Next Sunday our good friends Mike and Meri Justis will come aboard and we’ll do a quick trip back to Chacala then spend a few days seeing more or Puerto Vallarta, followed by cruising south to snorkeling coves then to Barra de Navidad, another great resort marina. It is such fun bouncing between anchorages and fine marinas. We like the remote spots with the peace and quiet just as much as we do the resorts with their pools, palapas, activities, and dining. Our future plans are fluid. We are driven by the whim. But the current fantasy includes Costa Rica, Ecuador, then a trip through the Panama Canal in the Fall. Look forward to seeing all of you when the opportunity arises. Douglas & Gerry Cochrane Sailing on the M/V Orion, Nordhavn 57 P.S. Occasionally one of you expresses concern about the safety of cruising in Mexico. My Uncle Don did a bit of research on the subject and reports that the murder rate in Mexico is 10 in 100,000. The murder rate in Baltimore is 33 in 100,000. |
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We would love each of you to start a blog. It could be about your career,
how may kids did you have, successes, losses, health challenges, what you are doing in retirement....etc. We want to hear from you! Thanks, Sue Ann Gilster Baxter, Roxann Howell Dehlin, Jessie Thaten Allen, Sue Hansen Lenon, Dallas Flahaven Young, & Mike Maher. This Classmate Blog, aka WHERE WE ARE NOW section is being created for this event at the suggestion of Bob Manning. This gathering will be a little different from the others in that there will be no formal "program" (like the Sat. nite program we have had in the past). We also want to go beyond our "we beat Borah football game and our heroic players" because we have covered that - although IT WAS SUCH a monumental event that 45 years later we are still elated over it. "Glory days well they'll pass you by Glory days in the wink of a young girl's eye Glory days, glory days . . . Glory days yeah goin back Glory days aw he ain't never had Glory days, glory days " Bruce Springsteen lyrics submitted by Mike Maher For some, those are glory days that won’t come back. For others, they were not glory days. And for others, they ere glory days that continue. LET'S BLOG! |
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“Cruising provides total freedom – if you can stand it” -
Scott Flanders, M/V Egret CHANGE OF ADDRESS Dear Ones, This will be the last newsletter sent in this fashion via email. Yes, it is true – the Cochranes are joining the 20th Century. We now have a website (partially complete) and a blog! In the future, and even now in the present, you may read our little words of wisdom and wit online accompanied by photos, videos, song, and dance. Check it out at www.CochranesAdrift.com. PEOPLE Before we describe our experiences in Colombia, let’s take a few minutes to talk about people. In Portobelo we met two great guys who had just come through the Canal. The locals tended to be a bit ho hum about this since lots of people have been through the Canal. But for Geoff and Omar, as for us, it was a once in a lifetime experience. Over the next months we crossed paths repeatedly with Geoff and Omar on their fine Formosa 52 “Un Mundo” (“One World” in English). Soon we decided to buddy boat around the San Blas islands and later on the overnighter to Cartagena. Now we enjoy time together several times a week. Near the end of the time we were in the San Blas Islands, we happened to meet Dave and Jan on the sailing vessel “Baraka”. Our meeting was pure chance as both boats rendered assistance to an old German fellow on a catamaran who got in trouble in some rough weather. Coincidentally Dave and Jan were within a mile or two of closing the loop on their 27 year long circumnavigation. Naturally Gerry and Geoff organized a celebration party for them that evening. Thanks to an introduction from Dave and Jan we met Fred and Judy on “S/V Wings”, a small racing sailboat, when we arrived in Cartagena. Fred and Judy are avid racers and have campaigned their boat all over the world as they made a 17 year west-about circumnavigation. Fred is a wealth of knowledge about racing and boats and was on the photo boat for two America’s Cup series. On another dock we met Rob and Andy of “S/V Akka”. They are also avid racers and Rob is a judge at some large regattas. Naturally we all got together several times during the recent America’s Cup series to enjoy the incredible boats in that exciting campaign. This is the cruising community. We make friends everywhere we go. Some become close friends as we sail together or cross paths in multiple places. Some take off for far distant places and we hear from them only occasionally through emails, blogs, and (surprisingly often) other cruisers. This is a different kind of community but very rewarding. Cruisers as a rule are interesting, adventurous, successful people who are living their dreams. They are focused people who accomplish a lot, yet they are mostly very flexible and willing to change plans on a whim for an interesting experience. PASSAGES Orion left the Kuna Yala nation with Douglas, Gerry, 18 year old grandson Nic, and Eleanor on board, bound for Cartagena, Colombia. We were glad to be buddy boating with Jeff and Omar on S/V Un Mundo. Going into unknown waters, to an unknown country is a bit intimidating and it was comforting to know we had a friend in hailing distance if needed. Fortunately all went well on the 33 hour run. It was very lumpy as we were going ‘uphill’ (against the wind and current) but other than a sea sick grandson and first mate it was an okay run. We were happy to pull into Cartagena harbor on the morning of July 17. Our reserved slip at Club de Pesca, a private yacht club, was not available yet so we anchored out then headed ashore to explore Manga, our new neighborhood. (The poodle was very grateful for shore leave!) We thoroughly enjoyed Cartagena. It is our favorite port. It is a historic, walled city with old forts and monasteries. It is also very European – vibrant and lively with great restaurants, good markets, and fine boat services. If we decided to live on the land, this city could be on thelist, if only our family would join us. ENTERING BAHIA DE CARTEGENA DE INDIAS The bay of Cartagena is large and interesting. There are two ways to enter. The main entrance to the West is Boca Chica. This is the main shipping channel and is very busy with freighters, tankers, and container ships. Coming from Panama, especially if the seas are rough, this is the easiest entry as the channel is wider and you get into protected waters sooner. Closer to the city is Boca Grande. This is an interesting entrance as during the days of the colonial wars between nations and against pirates, the Spaniards built an underwater wall across this channel. There is one very narrow passage, marked with small red and green buoys, where there is sufficient depth for a deep draft vessel to pass safely. We were told about a movie team that was too busy filming to check their charts, hit the wall, and sank their substantial ship. According to Geoff, they were following Hollywood rules, which means, “Normal rules don’t apply.” Except in this case… WHERE TO STAY Let’s talk first about boat accommodations. In Cartagena they are limited. There are two primary marinas and one anchorage that are safe for visiting yachtistas, all within shouting distance of each other in the East end of the large bay. We have experienced time at each location and can describe the pros and cons of each. CLUB de PESCA Club de Pesca Yacht Club is the premier moorage in the area. It is first class with a mix of concrete and wooden docks, good power (30 and 50 amp) and potable water. The docks are a sort of modified Med tie, in which there are short fingers off the main dock and concrete pilings outboard of them. Backing in, you toss a loop over thepilings on each side for your bow and spring lines, then back down near themain dock and cross tie from the stern to hold the boat between the short fingers. We have seen this configuration several times in Cartagena and Panama. This marina is very expensive, with dockage prices per foot comparable to daily rates of the best marinas in the U.S. (with no weekly or monthly discounts) plus taxes, electricity, and water. For reasons involving supply and demand, it is also almost always full so it is important to bookearly to get a visitors slip. This can be challenging as no one in management answers their email nor do they speak English. On the plus side, this is an amazing spot, located literally within the walls of an ancient fort. Entry from the street (past a uniformed and armed guard) is via an arched tunnel through the walls of the fort. Surrounding the parking lot are the wide and heavy walls with slotted gunnery positions (which provide wonderful spots for the young folks to share a private moment in the evenings for spooning and tippling.) Security is good. There is a second guard at the locked gate between the parking lot and the marina itself. And there are cameras and anarmed guard at the end of the dock where Orion was tied. The YC has strict rules about who is allowed inside. All contractors must show proof of insurance. All visitors must be approved by the yacht owner. In our case, they soon got tired of approving all our friends and just let them through after the first time or two. The staff is very friendly as is typical in the city. The marina has two fine restaurants on property, good clean showers and restrooms. It was built for locals so there isn’t much of a liveaboard population. Most of the boats have a Captain who comes every day to wash, fix, and prepare the boat. Weekends get busy with a Friday night get together on the dock and lots of boats heading out to the nearby islands. We moored at de Pesca for six weeks. CLUB NAUTICO Nearby is the Club Nautico. It has a rather spotty history and at this point is in the middle of a lengthy rebuild of the facilities. The docks are fixed, high, and rough. Almost all boats are moored Mediterranean-style. However, rather than drop your bow anchor before backing down to the dock, Nautico provides a diver who takes your bow lines down to fixed moorings at the bow. Space is at a premium and it is stimulating to back your large vessel in between two others, trying to get close enough to the dock behind without hitting the concrete, whilst the diver gets your bow lines secured. Since our captain hates having to make adjustments in the middle of the night, we set five bow lines to the moorings and four spring lines to the dock. Nautico has a good community of cruisers. ANCHORAGE Just offshore of Club Nautico is an anchorage. We anchored out several times waiting for a slip to open up. Holding is reported to be fair to poor. The boats tend to be anchored too close together for our comfort. When the williwaws, known locally as Culo de Pollo winds, blow up in a hurry, it gets very lumpy and the anchorage sometimes enjoys an exciting round of Bumper Boats, with boats ending up ashore. These winds usually come from the South, about 200 degrees so it is wise to check in this direction to see what might drag down on you in a gale. Likewise it is good to make sure you have room below in case your anchor slips. This whole area of the bay gets a lot of traffic, especially from the pangas and water taxis which, according to Latin culture, must operate at full speed at all times. Hence the anchorage and marinas get pretty lumpy, especially on the weekends when the local yachtistas and sport fishermen join parade in and out, also at high speed. Extra lines and chafing gear are recommended. DIRT DWELLERS Visitors to Cartagena who don’t have a boat have many options for hotels from fine to cheap. Most of the high end hotels are on Boca Grande, a connected island that is the high class neighborhood. Filled withimposing towers, Boca Grande has beaches, harbor views, fine dining, and basically an American-like experience. Another excellent option is the San Diego neighborhood. This old area is within the walls of the Old City. It reminds us of New Orleans with its narrow streets and overhanging balconies. This is a pleasant place to find lodging, fine dining, clubs, and a true Colombian experience. Students and lesser beings gravitate toward Getsemani, a pleasant “suburb” f the Old City. Here you will find inexpensive lodging, pubs, cafes, and street vendors. SAFETY Security throughout the area is very good. The city values its guest’s safety. We have felt safe walking about day and night in the Manga neighborhood, where both marinas and the anchorage are located, and to the Old City, which is about 15 minutes walk from there. Nicolas and Gerry were alone when Douglas had to go to Florida and we spend many hours walking the wall and exploring the city and Nicolas would go into the city at night with his Colombian friends. There are a lot of Policia, both in cars and on motorcycles, singly or in pairs. I only observed one incidence of street crime. A young man was accused of something – shoplifting, purse snatching, or drugs? Within a minute or two, two cops showed up on a motorcycle and braced him against a car. Over the next couple of minutes, it was like Attack of the Killer Bees as police motorcycles and cars swarmed from streets, alleys, and sidewalks into the area. It caused quite a stir. If we don’t feel like walking, fleets of ever present, tiny yellow taxis zip around for very reasonable prices. There is also a large contingent of unofficial motorcycle “taxis”. Apparently any rider who has an extra helmet is fair game to give you a ride – and an adrenaline rush! The motorcycles provide so much competition to the licensed taxis that the city has implemented No Motorcycle Days twice a month to give the taxis a break. It feels strange on those days to have no bikes dodging through the heavy traffic. There are certainly neighborhoods or barrios where strangers are not safe, as is true in your hometown. When we needed to go into the industrial zone for parts, we used a trusted taxi driver or took one of thelocals along. IMPRESSIONS Cartagena has a rich, diverse culture as it has been a prosperous busy port since the Spaniards came here in the 1500s. The wonderful foods reflect that diversity having influences from Africa and the Mideast, the Mediterranean and the Caribbean. It is very multi-cultural with a polyglot of races, a rainbow of colors of brown, and widely disparate incomes within a small space. You’ll see things like a woman in a bright native dress selling fruit out of a basket balanced on top of her head to a stylishly dressed woman driving a late model Mercedes. We found it interesting how few people speakmore than a little English but they are generally helpful when it comes to communication difficulties. Our meager Española is improving. Gerry is taking classes so we can better understand our hosts. Nic, who had a good grasp on the language, was able to communicate very well after a few weeks. There are many street vendors with pushcarts who sing or howl (depending upon your ear) about what they have for sale. This can range from small sweet cups of coffee to a variety of fruit. I saw a man carrying a dozen brooms and mops. Another was trying to sell a used toilet along with some old lumber, and bits of pipe from his pushcart. In addition there are many donkey drawn carts (which Eleanor found very interesting), typically rickety affairs that look like they werebuilt from flotsam and junkyard remnants. The donkeys are mostly small and malnourished. Often they are hauling lumber but nothing like you see at your local Home Depot. Most of the lumber used here for any construction looks like it was planed with a machete then soaked in the sea for a long time. Traffic is interesting given that big buses, little yellow taxis, and swarms of small motorbikes and scooters are competing for the same space with horse drawn carts and pedal taxis. Despite a lot of honking and crowding past each other, it seems that everyone gets along fine. It is rare to see an angry face in traffic. Even very aggressive drivers are often surprisingly polite when they realize that someone needs to change lanes. One day as we were leaving the boatyard there was a sudden heavy downpour. The houses in the poor barrio had gutter systems consisting of a drain pipe that shot the rainwater at roof level out into the street. As we drove down the narrow dirt lane people came out of their houses and enjoyed a fresh water shower under the warm rain from the gutter pipes. A few minutes later on a busy multilane street, I saw a horse and cart pulled off to the side, the horse munching on a bit of grass. The owner had run for cover someplace nearby. On a Saturday evening I arrived in the same barrio just as the sun was going down. The dirt street had become a patio. People had set up plastic tables and chairs and were playing dominoes or other board or card games. Everyone was enjoying the cool of the evening. Children were runningabout and stared at the gringo, though unfailingly polite when spoken to. Without any begrudging fuss, folks moved their chairs and kick their empty beer bottles aside so we could drive through. One evening in the boatyard a young man brought me a couple of slices of watermelon on a plate. It was so delicious it reminded me of my childhood. Later I realized that I hadn’t had a properly ripened watermelon in years. Modern supermarket management has developed techniques to deliver beautiful looking fruit seemingly ripe – except the fruit doesn’t taste very good. It is picked early, shipped for hundreds or thousands of miles, and forced to ripen on schedule for sale. The watermelon Nestor gave me was grown locally and picked when it was ready to eat. The next day he gave me half a mango for my breakfast. As with the watermelon, the mango was delicious. I’d never cared for mango that much. Guess why? The workers here in the barrio are poor by American standards but they get better fruit than rich Americans. Who is the poorer? THE OLD CITY Cartagena is an ancient city dominated by an amazing series of forts, built in the 1500’s and 1600’s to protect the gold and emeralds being “liberated” from the Incas from being stolen by the dastardly pirates and English. The forts and most of the walled city are well preserved. But unlike so many old cities in which the old neighborhoods are either run down or Disney-fied for the tourists, the old city of Cartagena is very real and vibrant, with many businesses, restaurants and bars, and street vendors. It is teeming with locals day and night. Centro, as the old city is called, resembles a European city with hints of New Orleans. The walls are wide enough to have walkways, restaurants, bars, and street vendors along much of their length. There areseveral large plazas, including one anchored by Donde Fidel’s, the loudest and most crowded bar I’ve ever seen. Salsa dancing is the rage and there are many good Cuban owned bars. The city hosts many fine museums. Theater is very active here and we see Teatros in many areas. The San Diego neighborhood is a charming residential area within the walls with narrow streets and overhanging balconies. One night some friends took me for dinner on the plaza then to an upscale lounge where there was a great Cuban band playing. The dance floor was crowded for much of the night by nicely dressed couples salsa dancing. Getsemani, another nearby neighborhood, is a more middle class area but vibrant with a plaza in from of the old church where locals hang out in the evenings. One night we stopped for drinks at a nice tapas bar. Someone had set up a screen and a projector in the plaza in front of the church and was playing movies for the community. Street vendors sold food or small bottles of local rum. A young man set up a barbershop on the sidewalk consisting of a chair, battery powered lippers, a pair of scissors, and a razor. WOMEN The women of Cartagena are stunningly beautiful. Because of the polyglot nature of the populous it is hard to describe what their beauty is like. In general terms, they are often tall and slender. Their beauty is asmuch internal as external. They seem to carry themselves with attitude, but not attitude focused outwardly like a dare, but inwardly as if they are contentwithin their own skins, as if they know they are beautiful and therefore they are. Most women dress with style. After living for a couple of decades with the joys of Seattle grunge, it is nice to see people who care about their clothing and how it enhances their beauty. This is, however, a great city in which to be a podiatrist. Many women wear towering FMP’s or the new clunky sandals with very tall soles. It reminds me of Groucho Marx’s comment about ballerinas, “Why don’t they just hire taller girls?” Obesity is rare. For the most part, a “fat” person in Colombia is about the size of the average American as observed at the food court of a local mall. Truly fat people are rare enough that I notice them with surprise. GREAT READS One of the joys of my life is reading good books. I especially like the non-fiction tales by people with a quirky sense of curiosity and a unique way of telling a story. Bill Bryson traveled thousands of miles to walk on a remote beach in Australia where a prime minister drowned, shortly after warning his people of the dangers of swimming there. Paul Thoreau rode many long miserable days on the Siberian Express, simply because he likes to ride the rails and experience the vastly different cultures of the world. A recent favorite of mine is a book called “Moby Duck: The True Story of 28,000 Bath Toys Lost at Sea and the Beachcombers, Oceanographers, Environmentalists, and Fools, Including the Author, Who Went in Search of Them” by Donovan Hohn. Why anyone would be inspired to travel the world in search of lost rubber duckies is beyond me, but I am sure glad that Mr. Hohn chose this field of interest. He shares the story from their creation to destruction and in the process uncovers more information about plastics and their horrible impact on our oceans, environment, and some self- induced challenges to the long term survival of the human race than most folks ever considered. This story is especially poignant to us as we visit remote uninhabited islands only to find their beaches and nearby mangrove thickets and palm forests covered with plastic trash. Charlie Moore, an amateur oceanographer, is quoted in Hohn’s book as saying, “When we throw something away, there is no ‘away’. The ocean is the away.” Moby Duck is a fascinating, often amusing, and sobering tale of a self-proclaimed Fool and his travails in pursuit of knowledge. The generation before mine created the most horrendous and long lived chemical and nuclear poisons imaginable. My generation has littered the world to its farthest reaches with plastic crap that will last for hundreds of years. We are all fascinating, often amusing Fools. And we struggle to use and dispose of less plastic on our boat with mixed results. BACKPACKER BOATS The only break in the TransAmerican highway between Cape Horn and Alaska is the Darien region between Panama and Colombia. Not only is this area ruggedly impassable – it also is home to the FARQ guerillas. Think about what this means for the (mostly) young people who are hitchhiking, backpacking, bicycling, or riding motorcycles from one continent to the other. You literally can’t get there from here. So some entrepreneurial boaters have come up with a solution – the backpacker boat. Say you have a large catamaran and little or no income. So you hang around the coffee shops in Getsemani where the youth hostels are, shilling rides to Panama. When you get a boatload of people signed up, you load the bikes and motorcycles on the foredeck, the crowd of backpacks and people wherever they can fit, and off you go. It only takes a couple of days to reach the San Blas Island if the weather is good and another day to Portobello or Colon. I can’t tell you what the galley or the heads smell like by the time the boat arrives with its overload of young dreadlocks. But with any luck, the captain soon picks up a bunch of kids in Panama who want to see South America. And so it goes… CANARY DANCING One of the hobbies of some locals is raising and training canaries. They teach their canaries to dance and sing on command. Periodically there are large competitions with dozens or hundreds of canaries and trainers all trying to outperform the others. One young man in the boatyard raised an especially fine canary and sold it for $600, a small fortune for a guy that earns $20/day as a guard. WHISTLING All Latin men seem to be adept at whistling. Not only do they whistle and sing as they work, they whistle signals to each other, even from far across the water. Javier and Rinaldo, identical twins who are working on a Geoff’sboat, have carried this to perfection. They have their own private language, carried on by soft whistles. Senor Geoff will say to Javier, “Let’s thrubolt that assembly. I’ll pick up some 1/4x2 flat head machine screws.” Javier will whistle a little ditty. Rinaldo will answer with another ditty. Then Javierwill say to Geoff, “Rinaldo says you better get 2-1/2” screws or they will be too short.” Reportedly they can even whistle in English instead of Spanish, though it is slower. Never play bridge against these guys! FAMILY AND FRIENDS Life in a foreign country is interesting and challenging. However it can be rather lonely being so far from friends and family. So if you are sitting around with nothing to do, drop us a note and catch us up on all the news with you and yours. Look forward to seeing you on the soonest occasion. All the best! Douglas & Gerry on the M/V Orion |
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John (Johnny) King
Good Morning Sue Ann and Roxann,
I was very young when I met Johnny (John) King. We became instant friends along with John Spoljaric. We grew up in the northwest part of Boise. The three of us were in Band together for a number of years in Junior High and High school, and we loved Mel Shelton. Forgive me if my dates are a little off but it was however, 50 plus years ago. I grew up in a musically inclined family and learned at a very young age musical talent. A talent that most certainly escaped me but I could recognize it through other family members. My sister Kay went to Wichita State as did Johnny on music scholarships thanks to Mel Shelton’s influence who was also a Wichita State graduate. Other than my senior year at Boise High when I dropped out of Band I sat second chair in the baritone section. In my sophomore class I sat next to my older brother Steve who was Band president. Bob my younger brother one year behind me also played the baritone. What impressed me more than anything was looking to my left to the trombone section and seeing a boy that played his trombone “like it was a part of him”. Confidence, beautiful tones, and at times playing louder than anyone else in the brass wind section. Johnny approached me one day and asked if I would participate in a duet with him at a judging event in, I believe Nyssa, Oregon. I said, “Johnny are you crazy, I can’t play anywhere near your ability and talent”. He then said he always wanted to play a melody and harmonize the melody with a trombone and baritone. I said okay but I hope you know that I am going to let you down and embarrass you. He made me practice our duet over and over for weeks until I finally got it and it started to sound really good. We both got blue ribbons, something I would have never achieved on my own. “Johnny King made me better than a I really was”. As I read all the comments about his life and how he made so many of us better than ourselves I was not surprised. As a young man Johnny impressed me so much that I begged and almost threatened him to come to my grandmother Thomas’s home to perform a concert for us. I made my mother and father attend and other family members. I will never forget Johnny standing before us with that confidence and beautiful sound from his trombone playing by memory one song after another. He mesmerized each of us with that “one boy” concert he performed. I was so proud to be his friend and the impression he made on me, my family, and so many others in his lifetime. Sincerely, Stan Hosac Boise High graduate 1965 |
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