Wahoo!

Ah, what a Labor Day Weekend so far. Went out of the Makaira Mojo out of Port Isabel and fished up a nice wahoo of perhaps 50 pounds - and thanks to the captain and crew for the teamwork that made it possible. It was fairly slow fishing out there, another chicken dolphin and a few blow-ups, but we did well considering the slow season we're having.

Right under the Causeway pass we met and passed the pirate ship and in the excitement I forget to snap a picture, but there was Christy and April yelling "Sam I yam" and I gave 'em a big "Argghh" in return.

It was one of those idyllic days that makes it all worth it, living on the sandbar. Now when was that surfing supposed to get good for the Gustav waves?

I Want One of These

How did Sandy Feet do it?

Bird Mon

I'm still waiting for the sun to get some of those requested pictures, but in the meantime, here is a part of our morning ritual, which involves feeding the birds. This time of year it is mostly pigeons. They simply must be fed at 8:30 in the morning.

In the winter it was the redwing blackbirds, a rather aggressive breed, although the occasional grossbeak could run them off. In the spring it was quite a crop of frisky common sparrows. We've always had a few pigeons and doves, perhaps eight or so. Now there are about 50!

The neighbor across the street complained about the pooh-pooh situation and I confessed that it was me, as the poor birds acted ravenous. Being a kindly soul from old Mexico, he changed course and offered me respect. "I think those birds were blown over here in that hurricane. The downtown courtyards of Brownsville and Harlingen no longer have any pigeons. I will get you some stale bread for tomorrow morning."

Of course, the nice man wouldn't let me off the hook without telling me that when he grew up in Mexico, every town had an old man who would beg for bird food and then feed them every morning in the town square, often thought to be slightly crazy but treated honorably - others came along to sweep and wash the streets and to my storyteller it was fond memories. There were racing pigeons, regular rock pigeons, and fancy ones that were thought to come over from Spain. "See that one there with the beautiful colors? He is their leader, and his markings are considered very special in my country."

I had, err, no idea! But before leaving he asked how close I could get to the pigeons. "Only a few feet, especially if I have their food. They will sometimes hover over my head."

"Then they have chosen YOU, amigo. Adios."

Sublime SPI Beach Art

I don't think I could improve on what Dolly did to this old Wal-Mart cabana tent, and boy it is a piece of work. The dog took a big ole dump there but I cleaned it up into the trash can before snapping this picture, so it must be special. The white sticks do have a certain wacky balance, don't they?



Yes, I suppose my view of art is maybe more organic, like these awesome railroad vines that seemed to go berserk after Dolly and today's thundershower. In the early morning, this dune will be blooming with purple railroad flowers everywhere. Hey I wonder, isn't there a white variety too? I seem to recall seeing some on the wild end of the beach.

But these are the things that make me happy - aside from the cabana trash but you get my drift. The beach is very clean and flat but the submerged part is heavily rutted between the first and second bars now, a good place to fish at dawn.

I also saw an elderly Oriental man with his family feeding seagulls popcorn by hand today. I am serious, he'd point one out and hold out the single popcorn and make the seagull eat it right out of his hand. Malia the dog thought that was cool but wanted a piece of the seagull. OK honey, time to take you home for dinner.

The days grow shorter. I shot these pictures a little after seven o'clock. I am reminded to enjoy the simple things. And yes, I was watching the sandbars for jumping tarpon, too. Maybe they'll be there at first light tomorrow.

Attempting to give a damn

Lord knows what came over me, but I think I let off a stink bomb in Jason's South Padre Attack Forum. Looks like one with permanent results! If they accuse me for needing to repaint the town because of may caustic blast, see if I give a damn.

I didn't move here to become a political hack and it's time to focus on real things, anyway. Business, surfing, fishing, new hobbies, writing a book, more music, more money, more fun. Hey add less trash to that list while we're at it: Unlitter. I'll eat my hat if the "government" can help me with much of that. And I'll be double-damned if some silly Attack Forum will do any good - certainly it can't clear the stink out of the air. Not after that one, whew ... As a lyric by BR-549 reads, "he could cut a stink pickle that would bring tears to your eyes."

Ah, freedom at last.

I was one of the last hold-outs among my circle of friends that actually liked the Attack Forum, and valued it for the updated during Hurricane Dolly especially, as if the Forum had a cathartic Kumbaya Moment. Then, it reverted to its old ways, the tired expressions like "you don't have a clue if you don't go to the Board meetings." Gosh, after being told a hundred times I was getting dumber and dumber by the minute, this Wells Boy let 'em have it. I think I wrote "Tim you ignorant slut ..." Priceless. And stinky-roo. S-o-r-r-y!

For all the angst and high drama, it was all a silly game anyway. It was addictive and few recognized my humor, satire, and tongue-in-cheek moments. But it's like giving up cigarettes: no more. Hey that's a swell idea, I could give those suckers up permanent, too.

In the big scope of things, I happen to notice that the date had slipped by August 16, which is the magic day the tourism falls off by about half here on the island. Now that's some serious stuff, and yes I do give a darn about that. Somehow, I was hoping for a resurgence after Hurricane Dolly, perhaps an unrealistic wish. Fittingly, on that day that day I saw the Bongo Dogs at the Wanna-Wanna, which resembled a bombed-out WWII ruins because of the storm - a truly existential experience.

But in a typical island way, band members all said they preferred the steadier, smaller crowds and more relaxed atmosphere. And I finally relaxed too, and smiled.

Epitaph: "More Bass"

Jerry Wexler died on Friday, a true genius for the music scene dating back to the late 40's. He was 91. The NY Times has a nice obit here. Strange dude but he promoted many artists you will know. Scroll down to the bottom of the obit and somebody said his tombstone would read "More Bass."

Being an old tuba and sousaphone player I rather liked that, and was always into black rhythms that back then was so controversial. As I migrated to electric bass and then the finger-picking the guitar, I was always a bass man. And it's about time to set the record straight!

Leo Fender invented the rock 'n' roll guitar as we know it, but it was always the singing and the bass that matters. That "wall of sound" was perfected in later years, but it always required a big booming bass. It is no coincidence that one of the most famous artists alive is a bass player named Paul McCartney.

It is sad that so many of the true instigators are leaving us, but what was cool was that Jerry Wexler didn't even like beatniks or hippies, and could barely stand bands like Led Zeppelin. But he was part of the Grand Experiment on the leading edge, and brought a works of what they used to call "race music" to our attention. Over 60 years later, the vision still works.

More bass, man.

Back to Gardening on SPI

Well I finally rescued the lawn mower and weed whacker from the "maws of heck." Both were frozen up from the effects of a flooded garage but somehow - and with some STP gas treatment - I got them both working in top order.

Assessing the landscaping, it was fairly dire, with plants either dead or leaning at 45 degrees, the poor beloved plumerias stripped of most all their leaves. The native stuff lived, such as the Coral Bean plant I rescued. The sea grape also did very well, with some missing parts here and there. The natal plum, a beach plum also known as the Monterrey plum, was toasty dead - and spiky as heck. The trunk on the beach plum was so hard I had to use a chain saw.

Dang, I was just starting to get the upper hand, after messing with getting rid of a century plant and a palmetto that died. Bam, instant mess after that hurricane. The salt killed a bunch of the good grass and then this field grass filled in, growing two to three feet high within a week. It's not against my religion to mow more than once a week, but that was a stunner. I feel set back about two years.

So I took stock and looked at my gardening tools and took inventory. Anything that was metal seemed horribly rusted. The planting pots I had organized so well had moved all around the garage - the water must have been fairly high - and some had sprouted mysterious plants that died. I'm lucky to have the lawnmower and weed whacker working, I guess.

Then I remembered what Paul Johnson said about what happened after hurricane Emily, which burned the plants so bad: you have to dilute and get rid of all that salt. Hurricane Dolly was interesting in that the strong wind came from the west, meaning Laguna Madre water twice as salty as the ocean. So we'll we watering except in those shady spots where the mosquitoes lurk. Gosh I hate gardening with a bunch of skeeters.

The question is whether to hit the plants with a dose of fertilizer and iron. I haven't figured that out yet. In theory, the plants would be very hungry for some food, something aside from nasty sand and salt. On the other hand, all the fertilizers I have are ... salts. Maybe I need some fish emulsion or something? Mulch when I can get a truckload?

So many people lost good stuff, although some made it through just fine like my wild lantana, which decided that life was very good and is blooming all over like an blooming idiot. And the Norfolk pine did great. although listing about 6 degrees to the east; the salt pines seemed to be gone, MIA. My nemesis, the Brazilian pepper wood bush, is happily making leaves after being stripped by the hurricane winds. The birds and hummers love that bush but that's where the possums and raccoons live. That's one tree I have no problem if you want to drive a bulldozer at it. Plus, about 200 red-wing blackbirds wouldn't camp out there all winter because they know I have bird feed.

But that's next door and I'm lucky to have several empty lots abutting my property. But there's little protection and the bananas look dinky because they don't have any. Dang, I planted those bananas because I wantred something different, and did it all right. By now I should be eating Ice Cream bananas, a varietal I got that weren't anything like what you get in the store (yup, mash them up and freeze them and eat them just like ice cream). Oh well, I'll give them another year to see if they can get bigger than ... 16 inches.

You know, I had much better luck up in Austin, with a fine set of plum, pear, and peach trees and a raised garden along the edges of the cedar fence with tomatoes, peppers flowers, and herbs. I did onions one year and planted some mint and they all came back every year like big dogs. My problem was too much darn vegetation. My rosemary bush was a freaking tree about four feet tall. The passion flowers took over the fences - all of them - and tried to grow in grass. The plum tree put out at least 25 pounds of fruit, excluding what the birds and bugs got. Nope, I haven't seen that kind of action here, and the recent hurricane didn't help matters. Bayview sounds like you can grow some serious stuff over there.

But all is not lost and no way I'm leaving the island right now. The landscaping is always "work in progress" anyway.

Oh Really?

Every day I read many bloopers and I suppose that I should start collecting them. Here's one from none other than the respected (and despised liberal) New York Times, talking about about a referendum vote in Colorado that would define when human life begins:

"The proposal is the first in nation to put the question of when life begins before voters."

This is impossible, since life could never begin before the voters, who were presumably already born in order to vote. We hope. Lyndon Johnson had some issues there in Webb County, mainly dead ones coming back to life - but I don't think they reproduced very much. That begs the question about how many voters really have a life, a shocking prospect.

I'll keep hunting!

Island Politics

What politics? That's for upstate people and presidential elections and stuff. I moved down here to get away from people trying to push their politics on me. Now there are a bunch of characters on the island who run for office, I will say that. There is some electioneering. But it's so different from "politics" as I saw in Austin that it's hard to call it that here.

The red aviation light came back on the top of the water tower tonight, a welcome sight. I had reported outages over the last few years and found they had a system, so I let it go. If that's "politics" I'll eat my hat.

And the skeeter spraying truck just came by our house, Wednesday at 10:38. Yay. If that's political I'll go ride my bike behind him for a solid hour, just like I was a kid.

It's so apolitical I actually joined a town committee. Talk about more characters. Well they got me! Hey we got some stuff done on the bayside, great to see at least some results. Most of what I learned about was history and how bureaucracy works. Not political.

Heck I even vote regularly now, something I rarely did before. But that's not political - it's called my right.

Goodbye Dolly

I'll do one more post about Dolly because there's some great new stuff happening, like Willie Nelson coming down in November for the music fest (starting October 31). Looks a little scruffy but the island still works. I took some pictures "downtown" on the bayside today and the bayside still looks a little rough, to say the least. The picture just above is of what used to be Tequila Frogs, of spring break fame. The rest are from Fisherman's Wharf to Palm Street Pier.

I guess a little "urban renewal" along the old Tompkins Channel and the old entertainment district will be a good thing. It could take a years or two to get back to a nice bayside, given all the permits and expenses. But much of the damage I saw was from docks that were built in the 70's and 80's. Even concrete pilings were rotting, the rust hanging off them, due to the high salinity of the Laguna Madre. You could obviously see that giant bolts and nails were just orange rust spots.

Once we get those three or four boats off the shore and the wreckage cleared out it will look much better. Charlie was down at Palm Street saying they had pulled a lot of trash out of the water, but his jet-ski business is back open and things are doing better already. I think Dolly showed us how important the bayside is to our economy - and why we need to maintain it better in the future.

Watch Those Roofers!

Not a good photo here but this is a roofing re-do across the field from us. They seem OK but I started to notice a few things that irritated me. First, I was taught to hand-nail all my shingles, since those air-gun staples are worthless in a storm. Don't believe folks who say they have new "space age" staples that work just as good, because that's a lie. I've been in the business and have heard all the stories.

Second, the drip edge should be replaced if it is metal; I like the heavy-duty ones that won't rust as fast or even plastic. This house didn't have drip edge molding but cheap wood so I guess they didn't need it.

Third, valley metal should be at least 2 feet wide if not more - these are the troughs where two gables meet and water must flow along the roof pitch. Um, there's no valley metal in this picture, just a strip of tar paper.

Fourth, once the tar paper (asphalt felt) is applied, the first row of shingles is turned upside down, allowing the glue strip to hold the outer edge of the shingles down. This is definitely worth a few shingles. This row is nailed quite close to the drip edge.

Fifth, where's a bucket of roofing cement for the penetrations like the plumbing vents and difficult areas? We always had a gallon or two of Bulldog for those situations.

Frankly, I'm shocked that the town building code allows the use of staple guns and such shoddy business practices - roof staples are illegal in Florida and have been ever since Hurricane Andrew. Oh, the "heffe" just showed up in his dually crew truck. His crew is smashing down a case of empty beer cans with a cinder block while the "vatos" work on the roof. Nice work if you can get it, I suppose.

Home

Miraculously, the house was fine and after we arrived the power came on. Gosh, that was a far more potent hurricane than I thought ... but was grateful to give Lori a vacation before going back to work with the school system. And it was a nice vacation in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, like art city with a much more funky attitude than here. We kinda forgot to tour the Jefferson Davis House but got a comp buffet at the Beaux Rivage casino, which was top shelf.

Coming back to town was both a sense of disbelief and let-down. Sleeping in my own bed is going to be really good. Tomorrow I'll do all these chores but will be sure to hit the surf, either with a boogie board or a 7-foot fishing pole. It is good to back.

Probably a Ho-Hum Storm

Tropical storm Dolly looks ragged and disorganized for getting into the hot waters of the Gulf, and is moving at an impressive speed of 16 knots toward the SPI-Corpus area. So I went into "half hurricane mode" with the plywood, making sure the north and northeast sides were boarded and clean of potential flying objects. So we did some preparations and are now ready for the party! Hopefully Dolly will hit 80 miles one way or the other, so our beaches don't get too tore up (yikes, Sand Feet, how did I end a sentence like THAT?). Take care, y'all.

Surf Fishing Has Been Fun

Once or twice a day I head down to the beach and cast a few lines and with the puny waves and blue-green water it sure has been a pleasure. As many friends know, I'm not a "producer" and I like to let everything go unless it is a big trout - I actually bend down the barbs on my hooks so they can get off easier. Thanks to Fred Mallet, former SPI Alderman, I learned a lot.

Yesterday I nailed a nice ladyfish, which of course flopped off the line about 5 feet in front of me. Then I got smacked by a Spanish Mackerel and on the next cast I guess it busted my line because of his or her sharp teeth. So only having one pole and one lure now gone, I went home to rig again.

Everyday is different and today I hit is a little late, about 6:30, so dinner was over but I still had some blow-ups from the diminutive whiting, which although is considered a trashy fish is fun on very light line - at least a jerk on one end of the line and a jerk on the other!

The surf might increase over the next week as some tropical waves come in, but I know the "dog days" are yet to come. The surf crabs will hunt for tourist toes while magnificent tarpon jump the waters just out of casting reach.

I keep asking people if they see birds and jumping fish out off the beach, since that would be a sign of schooling bait with predators feeding on them - predators from trout to sharks. So far, I haven't seen any of such pods of fish coming down the beach on the tide and current but I know it is still early, and they will come.

The Zen of fishing is not the catching, but the perfect cast, or the imperfect one that briefly hooks a fish for reasons I can't fathom. Or just being happy and not thinking. Often little kids speaking Spanish will come out to "help" me fish and I am not cross; I smile and try to be careful about casting the lure so I won't git one. They had not invaded any more space than I did with the fish, anyway.

Plus I get to walk the the beach, which is good exercise ... and wash my dirty Crocs!

Sunstroke

It's that time of year when heat exhaustion and its serious calamity, sunstroke can happen. Well it happened to me and that was not pleasant. It was a shocker and even a day later I still feel the effects.

All I did was decide to mow the lawn, which had grown very high after all the rain, especially that nasty two-foot tall grass I hate that resembles Johnson grass. So after about an hour of slow going, lots of restarting the engine, I get tunnel vision. Silly me, trying to mow the grass in the middle of the Texas heat. So I left the mower and wandered like a drunk up the stairs to the porch, totally incapacitated, on the floor, shaking, hyperventilating, and nauseous.

According to the experts I was one step away from the hospital or even the grave.

After about 15 long minutes of down time I seemed fine, and being manly shook it off like "wow that was a trip, I'll never do that again!" But I was still dizzy, confused as heck, irritable, and couldn't eat dinner. My muscles were cramped and burning. The air conditioner which blows like ice cubes felt hot. I had been had.

Thanks to some locals and the Internet, I learned this is a very dangerous thing. It is not only dehydration, but rather lack of electrolytes and salt in your system that causes the real shock. So now I know that stuff like salt and Gatorade are what you need - and to not get so over-heated.

So all you neighbors, I'll be mowing the grass at eight o'clock in the morning or at night, and that's just my bad.

Editor - I fixed this up a little and wanted to mention that the best cure for heat exhaustion is to jump into the surf, and chill-out.

Eight Days of Rain

Wow, no tropical storms in the Gulf and we get 8 days of rain in July, truly strange. Rainfall totals of almost an inch per day - wish I had my rain gauge working but totals should be close to 6 inches. Cabin fever is starting to get bad, especially since my daughter came down from Austin and really wants to surf and fish. We see a break in the weather and run to the beach and KABOOM goes the thunder so we run back home. Then is drizzles. We wait on the drizzle to end like one dog waits on another.

Updated SPI Web Cams

Over the last five years the web cams on SPI have changed, so if you need a dose of "real-time" SPI there are some new ones. I've got a short list for starters, and let me know if you have more:

JW’s special event cam / Earth-Cam

This is brand new to the Island, covering the beach, Louie's and the Friday fireworks, and even Pirate's Landing - the Black Dragon pirate ship should be here today, hopefully. Java controls allow users to pan the camera itself, although at a Top Ten rated site by Earth-Cam, with thousands of viewers at once, it's hard to take it over. Sandy Feet says the beach cam controls are so good you can spot good cleavage on the beach!

http://www.southpadrecam.com/black_dragon.htm

Gene Gore’s spadre.com

This has been the "main cams" for many because it is well done and has an excellent surfing page as well - this one is for the sports minded for sure. Gene does a ton of advertising, so bear with the extra graphics. Also contains articles for local notables such as naturalist Scarlett Colley and boater safety tips from Captain Alan Stewart - two great folks to meet.

http://www.spadre.com/

Sandbox Inn Cam

This is Sandy Feet's latest morphing of the old "mobile web cam" which for a while had excellent beach views. It is now used as a security camera for the backyard and for folks to see her latest sand castle carvings. An island original. Sometimes loaded with butterflies.

http://www.spi-cam.com/

Turtle Cam

Gene Gore donated an old web cam to Sea Turtle Inc, which is now positioned over one of their holding tanks. It is pretty cool, and anything to do with Sea Turtle Rescue is way cool. Don't forget their fundraiser scheduled for September 6th.

http://www.seaturtleinc.com/turtlecam.html

SPI Beach Houses and Condos

Not sure what this one is about, other than a marketing tool, although it does seem to have high resolution pictures of the beach from a nice angle.

http://www.texasbeachhouse.com/

The status of many old-timer web-cams is not known. The Radisson used to have a "causeway cam" but I can't find it. Sandy Feet used to run the "Dad cam" during Spring Break - man that fellow could work a crowd of girls like nobody's business (English lit, right!). Of note is that several at Isla Blanca Park no longer seem to be functioning, especially after Gene Gore was asked to take his stuff elsewhere (long story).

Disappearing Ghost Crabs

I'd like to wish everyone a safe and happy 4th of July. It's a little rainy today with a good chance on Friday but then a drier weekend. So far on SPI there are no mobs of people, and it is nice and cool outside - an open door day!

Several times lately I watched the kids chasing ghost crabs at night, which is very fun with flashlights on the beach. The crabs are quite speedy and will disappear in a crab hole in a second. I saw plastic buckets with many of them, and had to wonder what the heck they were going to do to those poor crabs, but paid it no mind.

But then an observant friend noted how small they were compared to many years ago, when a respectable "sand crab" was at least two inches across the shell. They sure seem to be getting small these days, don't they?

Maybe that says something about our beach, and maybe all those kids as well (I have to admit, the new LED lights are cool). The little I know about ghost crabs is fascinating, such as they hide all day from the sun and predators but have to feed and drink at night; their burrows may be up to four feet long and are usually at a 45-degree angle such as into a dune. As part of the dune ecosystem, they reflect the overall health of the beach including its nutrient load, maintenance that can disturb their burrows, and predation from ... I think it's mostly the kids.

It is only befitting that "crabby the anti-litter mascot" could well be a ghost crab. Surely it is not a nasty land crab from the bayside!

Croc Thieves!

Beware of a recent rash of minor thievery on the beach - people stealing Croc sandals. We've lost a few pair, since we always leave them on the beach to go swimming.

To top it off, Lori walked the dog on the beach today, and some jerk stole the bling off her Crocs! Boy howdy she was hot about that, just steaming. "My mermaid," she forlornly cried.

So I now wear my oldest ones that I used to paint the house last year - they look and smell and heck, with a mysterious, black "x" factor growing inside the soles. I keep trying to tell Lori not to wear nice new ones to the beach, like the Camo ones she recently lost (way cool colors). Maybe a beach bag or back pack with a zipper is the may to go, to keep the kiddies half honest.

Otherwise, the beach report is really good, little weed, no jellyfish, very clean water today. Grandma waves, we call 'em.

Three Finger Salute

Bill Gates resigned from Microsoft Corporation today, in a weepy-eyed meeting with a bunch of his employees, leaving to concentrate his efforts on what is the largest charity in the world, the Gates Foundation. It makes me wonder is about a billion Microsoft personal computers will get "the blue screen of death" without his leadership, and we'll all have to do the three finger salute at once (CTRL+ALT+DEL).

Over two decades ago my friend Andy up in Austin said two words to me: "the Internet." Boy howdy was he right. To be honest, I started out on mainframes and the Apple - or was it a MacIntosh? That's almost a Biblical question by now, but you have to hand it to Bill Gates for exploiting computers and the Internet as a new frontier to be conquered.

You know, there really aren't any new frontiers to fill our imaginations anymore. Even nano-tubes are bio-tech are ho-hum. No more cheap labor in the world, although last I heard President Bush was looking for signs of life on Mars so maybe they could make sneakers, T-shirts, and underwear on the cheap for us American consumers.

It was equivalent to the Gold Rush of 1848 to 1855, something that captivated the spirit. I think that's what is wrong with the economy right now, that we don't have any new frontier of knowledge and experience that can be exploited. Maybe somebody will start a new rage going, but when Bill Gates leaves the company he started, you know that party is pretty much over.

I salute ya, bruddah.