Closing thoughts on Sharks

          Meeting Dr. Skolam last Saturday to ask him a few specific questions, cemented in my mind what I've experienced since I was a girl ~ all creatures behave according to their basic survival instinct and from learned experiences, whether you're a shark or swimmer. 

                                                                                                                    

                   As I wrote a few days ago, my first experience with sharks was catching them for dinner as a girl. I wasn't afraid nor was I careless, just rather intrigued. Ancient fish that have survived for so long, relatively unchanged, is impressive (my favorite sea critters are the "soft intelligences" known as the octopus ~ again, stories and experiences are for another time). When Dr. Skomal inscribed his book to me as shown above, I thought, "How did he know that I enjoyed the sharks?" And, of course I'll keep swimming!!

                        As a teenager, my next lessons with sharks happened in St. Croix, USVI. After high school and before college, I was a cabinetmaker working in Alna, Maine. I lived in Harpswell and met a man, Ron Oullette, who  was building a ferro-cement sailboat in what was then Wallace's Boatyard, and is now known as Safe Harbor Great Island Marina. 

                                                   ( Bec Deemer ~ on Pinion in Harpswell, your father, uncle , and                                                                                     Grandparents on Pinon)

                    We finished building the boat together and, after a year of living on it (yes in the winter too, see a trend here?), we sailed from Harpswell to St. Croix. We had two crew members join us for the journey. One was Earl Crandall, who attend Brunswick High School with Ron. If any of you know "Earl-the-Pearl" Crandall, (last I heard he was working one of the boats at the Maine Marine Museum in Bath), please tell him that Baa (my nickname) says, "Hello." The other crew member was a D.A. from the Bronx named Jake Apuzzo. 

                       I took the above picture when I was 19. Pinion, the name of our cutter, had successfully made it during an early morning passage through Hell's Gate and down the East River. Jake was trying to peep into an old girlfriends apartment window. Earl is at the wheel. We were giddy from making it to New York City and knowing our maiden open water (blue water) leg of the trip, from Sandy Hook to the Chesapeake, was only a day away.

                            The rest trip was book-worthy; filled with a hurricane in blue water that last 11 days and all of us incased in a skin of salt, encounters with other live-aboard characters from every part of the country and planet, kindness from strangers and learning to shoot a pistol in the intracoastal waterway because in the early 80's there were real Pirates in the Caribbean who would steal a 48' boat (and potentially kill you) for one point to point drug run.  I've promised my kids and students to write about this journey one day and I will. 

                              After nearly two weeks at sea (in storms between Beaufort, NC and the  USVI), we first anchored at Buck Island, a national park off the north east end of St. Croix. It was the first gin clear warm water I'd ever encountered. Seeing all the fish, corals, and sea life was thrilling. When I made it ashore, I couldn't walk, so I got back in the water. I loved being able the fish I knew were there all along. Jacques Cousteau was  my hero and my curiosity was piqued! For the better part of the year that I lived there, when not working in a sandal or cabinetmaking shop, you could find me in, on, or under the sea. In fact, on weekends I often crewed for friends on their "cattle boats" from Christiansted out to Buck Island. There is an underwater nature trail there and I'd teach the tourists how to use a mask, fins and snorkel. To get them feeling comfortable we'd have them stay near the stern of the boat. But before we went into the trail, another crew member would throw some frozen peas in the water to create a rush of fish, so the tourists would understand how crowded it would be on the trail. The sounds of the shouts through the snorkel still makes me laugh to this day!

                                                (Bec Deemer ~me with your two uncles!

                      If you're from Harpswell, of a certain age and you hear the words "St. Croix", "underwater", "diving", "honored explorer", "innovation", "funniest story evah" "Brunswick", and "wildly successful entrepreneur" in quick succession ~ the narrative will wind its way to Brett Gilliam. Brett had know Ron in Brunswick and had a few years earlier helped Ron find himself after Vietnam in St. Croix. It was there that Ron hatched the idea of building the sailboat back in Maine. Brett and Ron taught me how to scuba dive, free dive and spearfish. Ron and I borrowed all of Brett's gear when we first arrived in St. Croix. Brett owned one of the first and best dive shops on the Island. Plus he had a flotilla of power yachts, with his business, where he'd entertain friends and turn clients into new friends. He was larger than life and extremely generous if he called you his friend. After I left St. Croix and  later when he returned to Maine, I continued to run into him in Bath and Arrowsic. He invited me to a New York Explorers Club Event he was attending and I regret not being able to go with him. He always wanted to swap stories and get updates. A year ago Brett died and below is his obituary, written by his friend,the musician, Jonathan Edwards.

https://www.daiglefuneralhome.com/obituary/Bret-Gilliam?fbclid=IwY2xjawGmFbxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHWXVo_4O89E2NJbvWSiv3x9GSmreIm9a4N-L9D1K6Q8Guo_UU0vfYzAeSg_aem_8LJS2dInroBtHYzV_vBO9g

                    

                      Back to the sharks, remember the sharks?! Ron and Brett taught me about the underwater neighborhood. Christiansted Harbor is where I lived. I learned to honor and respect my neighbors. I learned where different critters lived and at what times of day they "went out." 

                        Black tip and White tip reef sharks were common around the clock, but were most active at dawn and dusk. There were also Lemon, Tiger, Nurse and Hammerheads. The only one I didn't meet was the hammerhead. As a literary agent, in the 1990s', I had the privilege of going to Hawaii. I taught in Maui at a Writer's Conference and visited Kauai as well as Oahu. I learned where my neighbors lived and how they behaved. I swam and dove with locals and listened more that I spoke. When I was in the Galapagos with group of my students in 2012, I also missed spotting a hammerhead, but I know I will one day. I did get to play "Simon Says" with a young sea lion and swim along side iguanas and penguins! On the Great Barrier Reef in 2015 with some other students we saw many wonderful creatures. But all these places are dying and the fish I knew as a girl, don't grow as big as they did in my youth.  The other sharks are all reliable and easy to share the environment, if you follow the neighborhood rules:

1.  Don't drag your dinner (speared fish) home in a net bag, as it's an open invitation for the sharks to join the meal. 
2.  Always bring a stick or baton to ward off unwanted attention or company, especially at a drop off. Christiansted has a barrier reef between the harbor (which is relatively shallow with a dredge channel) and a gigantic drop off, a fairly sheer wall, into the Puerto Rican Trench that falls down hundreds of feet rapidly on the north shore and not too out to miles of deep.
3.  If the company doesn't take the hint, punch them near the eye/gills or if things get heated, stuff the baton (or a piece of coral or rock) in the neighbor's mouth, as they can't see when their mouth is open (Brett taught me that one). 
4. Usually if they bump you, they are a dumb teenager who thinks you're a sweet treat and a shoving them aside is often enough to confuse them and make them doubt themselves. 
5. Let sleeping neighbors sleep. Don't go poking Nurse Sharks sleeping under a rock or in a cave. Don't pull an octopus out of it's shell or grotto. Don't try to grab an eel who is playing peak-a-boo. It's just not polite. These are all gentle creatures who are just trying to get some shut eye or restore.
6. Tigers are the least relaxed. Try to stay away from their turf. They aren't as mutually respectful as the others. Little things tick them off or they imagine that humans are competing for resources. Either way, stay clear ~ not out of the water, just know where the live and their habits. 

The Neighborhood. Depths in fathoms. 1 fathom = 6 feet.

            By the time I left St. Croix and returned to Maine to attend USM, the doctor conducting the mandatory medical exam asked me, "What is it your do?"  

                       Curiously I said, " Why do you ask?" 

                    He said, "Because I've never seen ears so open, lungs so clear, your eyesight is 20/10 and your body is pure muscle!" 

                    I answered, "Until recently I did a great deal of walking, swimming, rowing, diving, physical labor, sailing and holding my breath for minutes at a time, down to between 40-80', to follow my ocean friends. I didn't own a car for over a year until I returned to Maine." 

                    "That explains it," said the doctor. 

                    Back to New England, Harspwell, White Sharks and Dr. Skomal. 

                    I only opened the book, saw the inscription, read the table of contents and saw that the last chapter was entitled, "A Slap In The Face" after I'd already posted my previous shark insights to you all. Dr. Skomal was really startled about what happened in Mackerel Cove four years ago. So much so that he dedicated the final chapter of the book, in large part, to the event. Once I'm done reading it, I'd gladly lend it to whomever would like to borrow it and perhaps it can help you to understand and appreciate these ancient and ever present creatures as much as I do.

                        Last little note: If you surf or are really afraid of shark encounter, Sharkbanz have been wildly successful as deterrents. One on your ankle as a surfer or one on a wrist and another on the opposite ankle if you're an Open Water Swimmer who wears a wetsuit prove effective. They also have products to keep sharks from stealing fish from recreational and commercial fishermen. I can connect you to the founder if you're interested and it will make you feel more confident while learning about your neighbors. 

                            Brett Gilliam's Shark Attack Survival Story. The year it happened was, wait for it, 1972!  If you listen to the entire interview, you learn that what caused the white tip sharks to behave aggressively was the US Navy sending high frequencies underwater! The Navy was being a bad neighbor!!!!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q44xzF_Yw_8

                     

                                

 

Insights into our neighbors ~White Sharks. (HOWS preview =becoming Open Water and "Ice" Swimmers).

                                                                     Notes for HOWS

           Beyond the Breakers Conference Saturday 9 November 2024  Bentley College in Waltham, MA. 

                    Sharks! Yes, Sharks. I know many of you are learning how to be comfortable in the cold ocean of Maine, but first we must address our neighbors, the Great White Sharks. When I first came to Harpswell it was the summer of 1972.  

                    1972: The #1 movie in America was, drumroll, JAWS! I grew up in a huge family and whenever we went swimming that summer, always in the ocean, one of us would start singing the refrain from the movie ~ the music that let you know, a Great White was coming for you! We knew there were sharks in the water, because we used to catch and eat dogfish/sand sharks from kayaks and canoes. That was until we caught a pregnant shark and felt horrible when the babies revealed themselves.  

                    1972: The year that the Marine Mammal Protection Law was passed. Seals and other Marine Mammals were being slaughtered for sport, food and spite. It was  the era when Harpswell fisherman would shoot seals that they felt were competing for their fish, bait, or lobsters. Instead of seals washing ashore with jagged tooth marks, then they were found riddled with bullet holes. 

                     1997: The year that the Great White Sharks became protected. The author of Jaws, Peter Benchley spent much of his life after the books were turned into film, trying to save White Sharks and ultimately all sharks with a conservation effort. He tried to unteach the fear and educate folks about the sharks necessary and vital position in the environment. 

                    The White Sharks arrive in the North Atlantic in trickle in April, slowly gather over the summer, and in are peak numbers August through October. Sharkbanz was a Gold Star sponsor of the event and I attended the co-founder's session. My goal with this section is to reassure you that although we share Casco Bay with the White Sharks, but there are many ways to deter and mitigate our interacting with them.

                    I attended Dr. Greg Skomal's session entitled: "Swimming with White Sharks." To say he is an expert on all things Great White would be an understatement. Dr. Skomal is a diver, scientist, researcher, innovator, author, and photographer. He describes his work on the East Coast as trying to "curb conflict" between humans and sharks. As the seal populations have ballooned back since the Marine Mammal Protection Act was enforced, the population of sharks has grown proportionally. One of his many titles includes working for the Mass. Div. of Marine Fisheries, in the Fisheries Biology, Recreational Fishing, Survey and Assessment section as the Program Manager covering Large Pelagics and Diadromous Fisheries. 

                    As a former English teacher and Literary Agent, I'm all about definitions! According to NOAA (https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/pelagic.html), this is the definition of a Pelagic fish:

                    "Pelagic fish can be categorized as coastal and oceanic fish, based on the depth of the water they inhabit. Coastal pelagic fish inhabit sunlit waters up to about 655 feet deep, typically above the continental shelf. Examples of species include forage fish such as anchovies, sardines, shad, and menhaden and the predatory fish that feed on them. Oceanic pelagic fish typically inhabit waters below the continental shelf. Examples include larger pelagic fish such as swordfish, tuna, mackerel, and even sharks.

                 There is no distinct boundary from coastal to ocean waters so some oceanic fish become partial residents of coastal waters, often during different stages of their lifecycle. However, true oceanic species spend their entire life in the open ocean.

                Pelagic fish get their name from the area that they inhabit called the pelagic zone. The pelagic zone is the largest habitat on earth with a volume of 330 million cubic miles. Different species of pelagic fish are found throughout this zone. Numbers and distributions vary regionally and vertically, depending on availability of light, nutrients, dissolved oxygen, temperature, salinity, and pressure."

                Diadromous fish is general category describing fish that spend portions of their life cycles partially in salt water and partially in fresh water.  Here in Harpswell that would include: Pogies/Herring/ Menhadden, Sardines, Shad, Sturgeon, Eels, Striped Bass, and Salmon. These fish either lay eggs in freshwater and then live in saltwater or the other way around. The summer of 2020, there was an abundance of these fish in the waters around Harpswell, which are prime food for juvenile White Sharks. 

                  Dr. Skolam studies the prey of the young and mature White Sharks. The prey of the young sharks is almost exclusively fish, while the prey for the adults is primarily marine mammals, as you see in the charts below. The picture of the "new born" Great White is on the left and a mature Great White on the right.  White Sharks become "mature" when they are 8-10feet long. Notice how their diet changes as they grow. 

    

                Now, why the heck am I sharing all of this with you????  Because as Dr. Skolam continued his session addressing Open Water Swimmers (who swim in White, Bull, and Tiger shark infested waters all around the world) he said that his 40 years of studying sharks had revealed a great deal and contributed to the "curbing of conflict on Cape Cod" however he'd been "totally startled" by the strike and death of the swimmer in Harpswell, ME. I raised my hand at that point, said I was a swimmer from Harpswell, and had heard reports of the victim being in a grey wetsuit, with juvenile seals in the cove, and there being excessive bait barrel wash in the water that day. He said that was reported to him as well. The South East end of Mackerel Cove has deep water, with a drop off, and is very near ledges populated by seals throughout the tide cycles. The perfect storm for our Harpswell victim, as she was swimming in bait barrel wash, a grey wetsuit, and in a cove with young active seals ~  not safe practices, as we would learn over the course of the hour. Here is a nautical chart of the exact area:

                     Dr. Skolman was interviewed in this DownEast article in 2020 about the fatal attack:

https://downeast.com/land-wildlife/shark-attacks-in-maine-were-unthinkable-until-last-summer/

                 In the Down East article from 2020, you'll notice that he says they had tagged "230 animals" (White Sharks). At the session last Saturday in Waltham, Dr. Skolman said they now have "380 individuals tagged" which he thinks accounts for 10-20% of the adult population the North Atlantic. So we have more sonic insight, but we also need to realize that we are always swimming with sharks. 

               Per the definition of Perlagic Fish, the White Sharks stay in deep water most of the time, 100-600 meters. However, when hunting they can come into 30-40 meters to scan and troll the shores-ledges for marine mammals. In his studies of the Cape, many sharks hunt for the high value blubber of the North Atlantic Seal in less than 15 feet of water. 

               The clearer the water, the less likely a swimmer will be "accidentally" attacked. What does clarity have to do with it? Teenage sharks, transitioning from a mostly fish diet to a mostly mammal diet, will often bump their prey to make sure it's a mammal. They may "bump and abort" if it feels like the wrong prey. However, they can also take a taste and leave. When the water is murky they are less like to see waste the energy to strike.  Dr. Skolam has added accoustic monitors, like those on the Cape, to track Sharks in Casco Bay. They are gather a great deal of information about individuals as well as population behavior. There are apps like Sharktivity to download for recent reports of "tagged" individual sharks and unconfirmed human sightings in Casco Bay/Harpswell. 

              That fateful day in July 2020, seals had been swimming in Mackerel Cove all day. From great depths, a dark bathing suit or wetsuit may have a swimmer being scanned as a seal by a White Shark. In the article it stated the victim and her daughter where "diving and splashing" for hours that fateful afternoon, which are seal-like behaviors, and remarking on the "clarity of the water" (which would normally be a deterrent- as they could usually discern human from seal). 

                 When I asked Dr. Skolman about the practice of surfers painting their wetsuits with stripes across their suits to break up their profiles from below, he said, "that is a good deterrent." (In a later session, I asked the co-founder of Sharkbanz, Davis Mersereau,  the same question, and he replied that he's heard of surfers and swimmers painting their suits and agreed it was a decent deterrent to add to one's safety strategy).  I haven't not worn a wetsuit in nearly 8 years. When I do swim in Open Water, you'll find me in suits with crazy patterns, never solid colors, to look like the water's surface or a light bellied fish, not a seal.

                 Finally, the Down East article also said that the strike happened in the afternoon. If you look at Davis Mersereau's chart (below), you'll see some of what the best safety strategies for Open Water Swimmers sharing the oceans with sharks:

              Take home messages from Dr. Skolman:

      

                                                 ***********************************

            A big part of why I'm writing all this today is to hopefully have you join me year round, not only as a dipper and plunger, but ideally to encourage you to venture into the world of Open Water Swimming and in the winter, Ice Swimming.  At the Beyond the Breakers, one of the Speakers, Bob Fernald, offered to come give his presentation to our group in the new year. He was the director of the Nubble Challenge, is a Triple Crown swimmer and, most importantly, a wonderfully positive coach and person. 

        

          Finally, I hope to wrangle, either in-person or on Zoom, Rena Marie Demeo, (see her credentials in her slide) to also address HOWS. She is a really inspirational person, who was also not a "pool swimmer" in her youth and now guides many of us to do more than we think we can ~ while simultaneously having fun and being safe!

                                                 See you Sunday Funday at Mitchel Field Beach! 

Neighborhood Watch

                                     The weekly meeting with my neighbors, the Corvids.

Thursday is trash day and it's also talk-to-the-crows day. The good ol' gaggle of American crows. Not to be confused with their fancy faced and larger breed the raven, although the Americans are pretty big and like to show their power. 

This morning I took out the trash and heard various song birds sounding alarm bells. I looked up and saw my usual murder of crows on scaffolded sections of the stand of conifers a couple houses away. 

When I crossed the street, a pair of crows swooped into the old oak above me. I put the bags at the base of it's trunk on the curb. While I was tying the town stickers onto the bags, they started their weekly conversation. I politely ask that they not break open the bags on the street and offered to give them some crumbs instead. Usually, they'd calm down and fly around to the back of the house for a treat. But today, they kept looking at me, and their conversation was growing louder and more varied than usual. 

I stopped talking to them after securing the first sticker. I took inventory of the canopy of the Oak. And then I saw it, and understood the fuss. A Peregrine Falcon was in the upper branches. The crows were acting as sentinels for me. They had spaced themselves on opposite sides of the tree at the same height between me and the falcon. The song birds were fearful that it would find their nests in the various bushes and trees in the neighborhood.  Or worse, eat them. I had wondered why the feeder was empty when I was making tea.

                               ( This picture was taken of a documented event, when a murder of crows                                    mobbed a peregrine falcon to make it leave.                                                                              https://besgroup.org/2009/03/27/peregrine-falcon-mobbed-by-a-c )                                           (  https://www.uml.edu/falcons/about.aspx  More on peregrine falcons)

 I slowly tied the second sicker to the second bag. Then I tried staring down the falcon. The falcon was significantly smaller than the crows - it was roughly 10", while they were closer to 20". Peregrines are roughly the size of the Western Jay pictured in the top image. The Falcon had a sweet face and it kept abashedly turning away from me. The only concession it made was to fly to a branch on opposite side of the tree, remaining above me and the crows. 

The crows began to clap their beaks and look at me. I felt they were asking me to do something. What would scare a peregrine falcon, the fastest bird on earth? 

Standing in my pajamas and slippers, with my glasses pushed up to the top of my head, I began to make the sounds of a Great Horned Owl. I constricted my throat and inhaled air through it for the first part of the call. I had to adjust for pitch, as my first attempt sounded more like a parrot (prey) than a large owl (predator). Lowered the pitch and then followed it with some deep soft, yet firm series of "hooos".  I then repeated the sequence. That caught the falcon's full attention. The crows grew quiet while I did this, too. They hadn't heard me speak Raptor before, only Corvid and ugly Human.

The peregrine gave me one last glance, looked over it's shoulder and flew away at its singular speed: 240 mph! That is how it can escape it's two known predators: a Golden Eagle (200mph max) or an acrobatic Great Horned Owl! Peregrines are fast, but not acrobatic like many Owls or Ravens. 

Being a good neighbor means being good to all your neighbors wild and domestic (this includes inanimate beings like trees, flowers, even stones, but that's another story). And in kind they will be good and watch over you.

Update: Let Triton, my tripawd, out. I think the falcon has moved down towards the river, at least that is where the murder of crows has gone. The song birds are still on alert. Triton will have the whole yard to himself until the crows chase away the intruder.

No Them, Only US

This morning, I started to watch the hearing on Biden's document case and stopped. I realize it's not good for my health (more "drama obscuring reality").

(Walt Kelly’s funny animal comic strip Pogo provided a surprising, but effective, setting for his incisive political satire. During the War of 1812, the United States Navy defeated the British Navy in the Battle of Lake Erie. Master Commandant Oliver Perry wrote to Major General William Henry Harrison, “We have met the enemy and they are ours.” Kelly’s parody of this famous battle report perfectly summarizes mankind’s tendency to create our own problems. In this case, we have only ourselves to blame for the pollution and destruction of our environment.
Kelly coined the phrase for an anti-pollution Earth Day poster in 1970 and used it again in a special comic strip created for Earth Day 1971. The saying caught the collective imagination of the public and is still used today.)

We are humans. Humans have always had an "Us vs Them" mentality. Last century it was World Wars followed by the Cold War. At the end of the 80's into the early 90's the enemy (the Them), when the Cold War was ending, it started to become "US". In order to have a "them" it became a national enemy vs an alien one.

Then 9/11 came and gave the gift of an alien enemy, including the propaganda of the Cold War as it shifted to the propaganda against Iraq/Muslims. Many of us knew that was a false claim. History proved us correct. It lead to our longest war involving American soldiers, EVER. As administrations changed, the rhetoric changed and we tried to deescalate and exit. But the love of an enemy and the capitalistic realities of war made that difficult. Plus, we'd made promises to our allies in the invaded middle east nations. With the election of Obama, I saw the rise in overt racism slowly tick UP. I saw people refer to Democrats as Socialists (not quite Soviets or dictatorships, but a charged rhyme or echo). The call for a viable third party had been ringing for sometime, and so far hasn't been answered. Government started to break down. The Republicans denied hearing Obama's Supreme Court Judge nominations?!!

In 2016 with the election of tRump we saw more propaganda rise in effective ways and glimmers of authoritarian rhetoric began. Any one who had ever lived (lives) in NYC knew that tRump as a con artist, narcissist, and racist/antisemitic/mysogynist. We foolishly thought his run was a joke, and believed he did too, he was in it for the money and celebrity. But he won. Part of the reason he won the immigrant vote was because he used the words "elite" and "socialists". New citizens fleeing authoritarian regimes didn't want any leadership that skewed toward "authoritarian". Afterwards, the US vs Them became Democrats vs Republicans. tRump stacked three republican and god-fearing (tRump) judges in the Supreme Court. Chaos reigned and dysfunction crippled our government. His rhetoric became authoritarian and he befriend autocrats and dictators. He vilified and lied about those who went against him. He tyrannically demanded his party do so in kind.

Then to top it all off, he LOST in 2020 and wouldn't concede. He directed an extreme and indoctrinated element of the Republican party to storm the Capitol and try to stop the peaceful transition of power with the violent extremists with an insurrection.

In office, Biden ended the longest war in American History (it took him 20 years , as Senator, VP and finally President). tRump had already created a propaganda press and media the follows him and doesn't question a word of what he or his minions say. He had created a following, or some say cult ~ because they swallow his soundbites whole ~ that will do his bidden, not because they respect him, rather they fear him. The Supreme Court over turned Roe v Wade, a campaign promise of tRumps in 2016! This sounds like an authoritarian ruler. He has now undone our checks and balances, but using the privileged means of delaying and appealing trials. Even the Supreme court is bowing down to him, so that he may be elected before he is tried. His is now the presumptive Republican nominee.

Democrats are scrambling to win over Hailey's voters, plus Independents and Republicans who see that this is no longer their party or dare I say country. The Great American Experiment is teetering towards failing.

On a week-in-review program over the weekend, I heard someone say, "You can't change beliefs with fact." This was a rebuttal to the idea of comparing and contrasting the fact of who Biden and tRump are as leaders and men. False news = Propaganda. How to combat it? And if tRump is elected news organizations, press, schools, thinkers with authority or power will be punished or worse by tRump. He will become the "Tyrant" the Declaration of Independence worried ascending in politics.

tRump was won the war of media, technology and a fragmented society (some could argue world~ as ever nation will be effected by the Climate Crisis, borders, human migration and scarcity of resources [never evenly distributed, but hey, I don't want to sound like a social democrat -ha]). Biden must step up his communication skills and changing the narrative. To find a belief that we hold true (self-evident, undeniable) and we will all agree to as AMERICANS, the US citizenry. There should be no "Them", only US!

Incase you haven't read it in a while, click here!

https://www.archives.gov/founding-docs/declaration-transcript

The Karen

        When I was a girl in the 1960's the world was large and only knowable through books, stories from  adult's travel, dusty globes that spun with different countries, dependent on the year they were printed (before or after a war, usually), National Geographic, and the occasional circus. When the Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey Circus came to Boston during it's 100th Anniversary in 1970, I was a few months shy of 8. I was mesmerized by the exotic African and Indian animals, gravity defying human acts, and the music driving the action in the three rings.  However, with all the images still swirling in my brain, and the circus program in my lap the entire hour ride back to our rural home, I'd yet to discover the above mind blowing poster in the program. 

     "Beginning with the 100th Anniversary Program in 1970, some of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey programs had poster reproductions inserted in the program book. These varied in size but were about 16 inches by 20 inches. It’s easy to identify them because they were folded in quarters and have staple holes where they were inserted into the program. They continued this for several years.

        In 1970 the 100th Edition of Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey souvenir program advertised a set of four posters measuring 26 inches x 17 inches for $3.98 per set.

        Those posters were:

Barnum & Bailey – Tiger Head – Blue Background

Barnum & Bailey – 1000 Skits by 50 Original Clowns

Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey – Giraffe Neck Women from Burma

Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey – Dainty Miss Leitzel" (https://www.worthpoint.com/articles/collectibles/circus-posters-authentic-or-reproduction)

       

        I tacked the poster of the Burmese women on my bedroom wall for the next 2.5 years. I made up stories about the women and nursed occasional fears. The women's necks, the long heavy earrings, their smiling lips, but stern eyes confused my young mind. The gold rings on their arms and legs with their bare feet below (except for one who wore what looked like leather boots), made me feel sorry for the women. It was hot where they lived, I was told, and my child mind could feel the weight and heat of these bangles as burdens, not items of beauty or status. Their image has informed the lens in which I, from a young age, question cultural values and identities. This was aided by my Aunt Ama, who is Ghanaian, and what she taught me about her culture and it's values. Children's stories, for example, weren't about rugged individuals or quests, they were more inline with how each persons choice affects the whole family or village. I figured that these rings must be apart of narrative I hadn't yet learned about and would later in school or by traveling. 

        I would later learn that the original Giraffe-Neck Woman poster was from the 1930's or between the World Wars, during the end of the Colonization of Burma by the British. Last month, I read Theroux's novel set at the end of the 116 year rule of Britain in Burma. The novel's is mostly set in Burma between 1922-27. Burma Sahib is a fictional account of Eric Blair's life as a probationary police officer, as when he sets sail for Burma upon graduation from Eton at 19. Upon arrival he experiences trials and tribulations in  seven different Burmese police districts, he heads back for England just before his 24th Birthday. By then, the reader witnesses how he's begun to manifest his "secret self," the contrarian, and this self will later emerge as George Orwell when he begins to write his political novels. The young Eric, is uncomfortable being a "sahib" or a colonizer who enforces non-native laws. If you love Theroux's travel writing and story telling, this historical novel will keep you reading, and learning, page after page. It's like reading Conrad's Secret Sharer, only not as dark, yet with a modern cynicism. Both protagonists have a transformational and defining journey that starts and ends on boats in their young lives. Much like I did on a boat between the ages of 17-20.

Similar to the sensational Apocalypse Now, during the cultural revolution and end of the Vietnam War of the 1970's hit a nerve, the setting was inspired by using another Conrad  story, The Heart of Darkness, and Col. David Hackworth's dossier (I worked with Hack on his seminal book,  About Face, in which he details how the military failed in Vietnam, and while being the most decorated living soldier at the same time). Only instead of it being a disillusionment with "unwinnable wars", in Theroux's fictional account of the budding George Orwell, it's the disillusionment of "failing as a foreign enforcer in a colonized country." 

        In both Apocalypse Now and Burma Sahib, the role of the native women and men are explored by the protagonists. In both stories "going native" is frowned upon or a reason for treason or demotion. In Burma Sahib, the roles of women,  of varying classes, is examined in granular and insightful detail. There is even a brief moment where the young Eric, just starting to writing poetry, describes the "ring-necked women" he sees and wonders at them, while realizing they are from a sub-group of the Karen religion (Kayan, of Red Karen's, a Tibeto-Burman ethnic minority). I'd learned about Jainism from many Indian friends, but this was my introduction to "Karen's" and the fact that the Burmese Giraffe-Neck Woman were from region. 

        Karen. My name. A meme. A slur. An entitled middle class white woman. The Karen. The Karen are an internally diverse group of ethnic minorities who live primarily in southern and southeastern Burma. They are the second-largest non-Burman ethnic group in Myanmar comprising some 6% of the population, and are mostly Christian. During WWII, roughly 28% of Karen served in the Burmese army, which by British policy deliberately excluded ethnic Burmans. During the war, the Karen continued to support the British even as Burmans, led by Aung San, sided with the Japanese.

        Representatives for the Karen attended the 1947 Panglong Conference (two years after the end of WWII) as observers but did not formally participate in the negotiations. Beginning in 1949, a rebellion broke out among the Karen people and was quickly followed by the wholesale defection of Karen units in the newly-formed Burmese army. The Karen National Union (KNU) has been at war with the central Burmese government since this time, making this rebellion the longest in contemporary world history. They seek greater autonomy, political rights (including the right to bear arms), and social autonomy in the realms of religion, culture, education and language. (For more on the Karen people and their plight look here: https://kcssf.org.au/about-us/the-karen-people/)

        Needless to say, the fact that I learned, in my 62nd year, that these women were from an ethnic group, The Karen, after reading a novel by Paul Theroux about the foundational period in George Orwell's life, was thrilling. I last month I discovered my bizare & beloved poster in file folder with my name on it while going through my mother's papers. The file was titled "Karen's Favorites." I guess Mom took it down when we moved to Lincoln, when I turned 10, and it never was seen again, until now.

Transitions: Observe. Hold. Release.

         The common chorus is "you're going through so many things at once." You could say that chorus has been playing most of my life, and many times the things have been of my own making or environmental. Growing up in the houses I did, drama often obscured reality. It took me until my 30's to begin to train myself not to find drama familiar and comfortable. The new boundaries required great deal of work, especially since my biological clock was ticking and it resulted in  making a family of my own during that decade, before all my boundaries had set.

        Thirty years later, I'm still refining my tolerance for drama and requiring more peace at every turn. Boundaries are still a work in progress (as my cycles of life change so do my perimeters).  So out of the five (5) biggest stressors in human life ~ 1) Death/Birth of a loved one, 2) Divorce/Marriage, 3) Moving,  4) Major illness or injury, 5) Job loss/Retirement ~ I guess you could argue that I'm experiencing four of them (although it will be 12 years in June,  I might even argue and add Divorce (5th), as it's still a loss that holds space in my being, as there has been no replacement relationship).

        Driving through my original hometown this morning, Bolton, MA, I had an epiphany. All the Buddhist training, Psychological tools, and Meditation modes have lead me back to being the girl running through the woods and looking closely at all the beings that lived there. I used to get very still and just let myself "be" in the woods. This is where I first practiced Being. I learned where various critters lived. How the seasons changed the course of the brooks. The trees had sticky and less sticky seasons. Where the wild asparagus grew. Which crab apples were worth a bite and which would be too bitter. The difference between salamander and frog eggs.  Where the rabbits felt safe. Where bones of wild critters would be easy to find. How the sun and moon lived in different places in the sky in different seasons. To taste rain or snow in the wind before it arrived. And so much more. I was just left to be and observe. That gave me a certain confidence. I'd come home with questions or finds and gradually my mother bought me little Golden Guide books for Insects, Trees, Flowers, Fishes, Sea Shells, Fishing, and Yosemite (copyright 1970, because my first trip ever on an airplane -alone- was to California in '72 at age 10 to visit my best friend who had moved away, so naturally, I had to know about CA critters).

        I now have numerous other guide books to the Natural World in different places on the globe. In Nature I've always felt the ability to let go and Be. As I grew older, in my teens, I often sought drama in the form of adrenaline activating outdoor sports: Skiing (both kinds), running, barrel racing, biking long distances in all weather, playing on the boys soccer team, kayaking in strong currents, hiking, swimming in every kind of natural body of water, diving and salvage diving, snorkeling, free diving, sailing through hurricanes and more. These kinds of outdoor sports forced me to be in the moment, but also to accept the present, to observe it and float through it to the best of your ability.  These were my first experiences in the Practice of Accepting the Present.  What came before or after didn't really matter, doing your best in the moment did. Just Be your best, long before Nike's Just Do It promotion. I also learned a different kind of confidence. Instead of only observing, I was participating, a physical self confidence, and learning the social skills to support a team, too. 

        From the ages seventeen (graduating high school) until I turned twenty (enrolling in college), I lived the in the school of life. Geographically speaking, I lived in Maine, on an island and moved onto a sailboat, which then sailed to St. Croix, where I lived in Christiansted Harbor for nearly a year. Financially speaking, I worked odd jobs associated with the sea/fishing/boats and bartered, while I learned the trade of cabinetmaking and made money at that in Maine, and in St. Croix I briefly made leather sandals and then landed a job building furniture for a new hospital. Emotionally speaking, I first moved away from family and then moved away from friends, other than the man I lived with on the boat. Coming from and belonging to a large, constantly in contact, over-sharing family having no postal address nor telephone for that last year was both liberating and lonely. It forced me Practice Challenging the Stories I told Myself. Especially being out of New England, the only white woman on the job sight, and much younger than the black and hispanic men I was directing on the job. Also I learned to question other peoples stories. The guy dressed as a beach bum at the bar might be a millionaire, while the guy dressed like a millionaire could be broke. The island was full of transient folks: tourists, travelers, expats from various nations, islanders moving up and down up and down the chain for work, and, always, sailors. Even my octopus friend moved, after a frightful encounter with a New Yorker. One of the major currencies of reinvention is the story you tell others. 

        For the next four decades I kept reinventing myself. College Reporter. School Senator. Waitress. House painter. Pre-Nursing student. English Major. Radcliffe Publishing Course attendee. Assistant Publisher for a Magazine. Assistant Literary Agent. Junior Literary Agent.  

President of a Literary Agency (while funding the first three years as a model, bookstore clerk and night manager of a B&B). Wife. Mother. Naturalist for Mass Audubon. Triathlete. Runner. Obstacle Course Racer. ELL/Sped teacher. English teacher. Marathon/Ice Swimmer. Retired, although I plan to work part-time, write, volunteer and travel. Not sure which of those Me's will become a new title of sorts. I Accepted the Life-Long Challenge of Change.

         I can now just Be. The woman who observers. The woman who is a team player. The woman who loves to be in nature alone and to share it with other at times. The woman who loves her kids. The woman who wants to keep learning. The woman who wants to keep challenging the story she tells herself and to make it full of a grit with grace that flows and sings. That is how I want to face my current and future transitions, knowing that nothing is permanent except change and our choices in each moment. Observe, Hold, Release. That is all we can ever really Do. And that is the way of Being I chose now.