Big wavage

Greetings from Eleuthera.

I hate to say it, but the charger for the camera is... gone. I'm cameraless. I'm gonna try to find another charger. Wish me big luck.

I just heard some people talking about the storm the other night: the winds were in the FIFTIES. Yup, on the Beaufort scale, they describe this as STRONG GALE- shingle blowing off weather, trees uprooting, waves 23-41 feet high (depending on low fifties to high fifties- I think this must have been on the low side. No wonder the damn truck was shaking. THat was the best- I mean craziest, storm I've ever seen. I think it's 90 mph where they say you can lean into the wind and actually touch the ground without bending your knees or back.
A hurricane is anything over 73.

I better not use that straw to build the place like I was planning. Maybe sticks'll be better. Okay, gotta go play my fiddle.
-J

3-1 10 update shmupdate- it's BIRTHDAY TIME!

Greetings from Eleuthera. Yo yo yo yo. Ah, where to begin? Well, let's just start with: IT"S THE BEST 3 days of the year, Ruth's birthday today!!And Mary Lee's two days ago!!!! So how about that? Everything else pales in comparison, except for one event: Ruth felt Jackson move yesterday! Hot dog and attaboy. I was at the side of the road helping some people who broke down and I got the text. I had to excuse myself and do a couple cartwheels. So, as they kinda say in Footloose: let's hear it for the girl. Yeah, I saw it. Leave me alone. Besides, the book was better. Above is a picture of the birthday girls. Make sure you girls don't let that thing eat my baby!!


So, I moved off the extra bed of Kelvin and his mates, into the truck when it came in last friday. Getting a bank account is a trick and a half, so I can only use atm money, so I had to go every day to take out the max, watch my pennies, and then when I got the pallet that all the stuff that was in the truck was on (they make you separate it when you ship) I had 8 bucks left.

First I got the truck, and slept in that for a few days, but with no heat, it was pretty chilly, and I had to sleep sitting up in the driver's seat cuz the back was too hard and cold. Then the pallet came (and my blankets!) and that improved life considerably. It's hard to overestimate the need for a generator, a water jug (priceless), and a gas can are. ANd now I have a toolbox, a propane stove, a frying pan, and Cash's food dish which, since they turned the ole boy away at the airport and wouldn't let him keep me company, has made a splendid water pot. I made pasta last night, threw in a can of tuna, oil, seasoning, and I had me a regular hobo stew. I met a guy this morning that used to live in these caves around here, and I might go check those out still, but as of this moment, I"ve cleared a spot on the lot to camp on, set up my folding chair, and my little radio, and I'm bumping Ruth's tunes for everyone's benefit. Unfortunately, it's not NEARLY loud enough. Ah, island life.


I cleared a path from the foot of the lot to the water, which was a trick, since it's all prickers and palms and poisonwood. I got scratched up purty good, but not poisonwooded. I was purty careful. It goes out to the water, on some craggly ol' volcanic rock (prolly with lots a critters init) and then there's about a ten foot drop to the water. I don't know the depth yet, it looks deep, but as Greg Louganis can tell you, it's best to measure the depth before you jump. So the lot is further to the SOuth than I thought, according to the surveyor, but we found old markers in the brush that match his, so I reckon he's not making it up. He spray painted and orange dot on the neighbor's lot (it's a wall made out of rock) and she got all bent up about it. Didn't exactly have a conniption fit, but maybe about a third of that.

Dozers are 200 an hour, so I'm trying to plan really carefully before i get them involved. The lot is steeper than I remembered at the top, but about what I remembered on the rest, and then another drop off at the bottom. The setbacks are: no building within 15 feet of the top and bottom of the lot, but there's some contention that there's no building within 15 feet of the MARKER that's 15 feet from the lot edge. Big difference when you're on a steep hill. That would mean that to get the thing at the height we wanted, levele with the top of the property line, it would be hanging out in the air, about 30 feet high. I consider that unacceptable. I have to redraw this whole thing too, because for one thing, there's no way what I drew and put up here would work, cuz it's too long and would hang way out in the air, and two, people are saying about 150 bucks a square foot to build, and that place is way too big for anyone but that Nelson Rocker feller.


I'm scaling it down, and trying to keep all the brilliance of the original plan ina smaller space. We'll see. THe other issue I'm having is whether they'll allow the temporary buiding up before the final plans are approved. Those have to be reviewed by Governor's Harbour board, who only meet once a month. A, predicament. In the meantime, there's two guys with machetes over there clearing right now. It's getting better all the time. I'm going to look around these ruins around here to try to find some two by fours to nail together to make a right angle sticking out into the air so I can measure the rise and run of this hill in the different places. It's either that or a topographical survey ($950). I'll get my hammer. Then I can make a new plan.


There wasa wicked storm two nights ago, it was so strong that it kept trying to blow the back truck hatch up, and I had to tie it down. A 28ish foot boat washed up on the shore at James Cistern a few miles south, trashed. Mast broken, sails ripped, hull split open, there's even a pair of pants that got stuck halfway out the split. Anyway, it was blowing the water in the cracks of the back of the truck and uphill every which way, and my stuff got a bit wet. It was quite exciting. Okay, gotta go talk to the GH (governor's harbour) magistrates and find out what's what. Talk to you soon.

Love to all you cool peoples. Jack