Hilton Head Island: a polligator; aground; oiled; sea sick; after the cremation

 

The local newspaper recently ran its annual pollen season article and illustrated it with this pollen crusted sun bathing alligator.  Gators being cold blooded go into brumation, an inactive state, during winter and we seldom see them.  Now that it is warmer, they often come out to warm themselves beside their home ponds during the day.

I thank David for sending me this except from MOSQUITOS, a novel by William Faulkner which I have not read.

I biked down to GANNET this morning and officially marked ‘wood’ off my to do list.  Applying Deks Olje to her wood is, of course, a recurring process and will  be on the list again.

An email from a friend caused me to reread the first few pages of STORM PASSAGE for the first time in many years.  I have claimed that I don’t get sea sick, but there I am on the second day out of San Diego being seasick.  I have always said that if something I say now differs from what is in any of my books, believe the books.  I do not deliberately misstate, but a lot of what is in the books happened a long time ago and my memory is not flawless.

That episode was caused by my spending too much time below staring at numbers, trying to work out a sun sight, and perhaps from being overly excited by the beginning of the ‘being’ part of my life.

I now remember that I was seasick a second time.  That was in or near the Southern Ocean when the mainsail ripped all the way across and I took it below to make repairs.  Back then I did so hand stitching.  Later I learned to use contact cement.  It was necessary to stitch the length of the tear three times.  Once to close it.  The next two to attach a piece of sailcloth over the tear for strength. Without the mainsail being set EGREGIOUS was thrown about violently and I had to go on deck to feed the fish.  Those were as far as I can remember the only two occasions when I was seasick.

By the time I staggered into Auckland several months later, the mainsail had torn and been repaired so many times, it was unusable below the first or maybe even second reef.

Those sails were made by Hood who was then being exceeded as the best sailmaker by North who made a science of what had been a craft.  I have no criticism of Hood.  Not only was I the first American to sail alone around Cape Horn, I was as far as I know the first to even try, so no one in this country knew what conditions were like down there and how strong sails had to be.  I went and brought back reports.  

With the exception of CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE, which had a very small and simple rig and rigging, I have always had the standing rigging on my boats increased by one size, and since that first voyage, my jibs have gotten increasingly smaller and I have always specified to sailmakers to make my sails for heavy winds even though that means sacrificing performance in light air.

A poem from 8th Century Japan.

Hilton Head Island: three leopards; sweat and pollen

The three leopards are the novel, THE LEOPARD, written by Giuseppe Tomasi, the 11th Prince of Lampedusa, the 12th Duke of Parma; the 1963 film adaption starring Burt Lancaster and Claudia Cardinale; and the current six part Netflix series.

The story of the publication of Tomasi’s only novel is a sad one.  He began writing it in his fifties and had it rejected by two of Italy’s prominent publishers before he died of lung cancer in 1957 at age 60.  He died knowing only of those rejections, not that the novel would be published the following year to great critical and commercial success.  As a writer I find that sad indeed.

The main character in THE LEOPARD, Prince Fabrizio, is based on Tomasi’s great-grandfather who lived during the Risorgimento when Garibaldi was unifying what would become Italy.  It begins in 1860 and ends in 1910.  The tone is elegiac and restrained.  Prince Fabrizio knows he is the last Leopard.  He does not mourn that, but he also does not respect the kind of men who will come to power.

I read the novel when it was first published and, though young, admired it greatly.  I read it a second time about twenty years ago and bought a Kindle edition a few years ago intending to read it again.  I saw the movie version when it came out in 1963 and liked that too, especially Burt Lancaster’s performance.  Then a month ago I learned of the new Netflix series and was curious to watch it.  I considered rereading the novel first, but thought it fairer to watch the Netflix and judge it on its own internal merits.  So Carol and I did, one episode an evening two weeks ago.

The Netflix LEOPARD is visually sumptuous:  the palaces, the clothes, the people, all dominated by the harsh Sicilian landscape beneath a blazing sun.  I enjoyed the series until the last episode in which the writers under whose direction I do not know had Concetta, one of the Duke’s daughters, perform an act that was totally inconsistent with the intelligent character she had until then evinced.  I suspect that the intent was to leave open the possibility of a second season, but for me it was so egregious that if there is a second season, I will not watch.

I then reread the novel and admired it as much as I remembered.

And then Carol and I watched the 1963 movie which we both enjoyed.  It closely follows the book, but ends short of the Prince’s death and the final portrayal of Concetta as an old woman in 1910.  I like the movie, but believe it would be much better had it included those scenes, but running over three hours as it does perhaps that is asking too much.

For me the order is clear.  The novel is best.  The movie second. The Netflix watchable until the final episode but third.

The sweat and pollen seasons have returned to the marsh.  They are both produced by the sun.  Trees ‘know’ when to produce pollen by increasing temperatures and longer hours of daylight.  So does sweat.

The most obvious pollen in the marsh is a fine yellow powder from pine trees.  The trees just outside our windows and deck are live oaks and palmetto palms, but there is a line of tall pines not far away and for the past week or so everything outside has been coated yellow.  We do not leave cushions out except when we are using them.  I have to dust the seat of my bicycle each morning.  Fortunately neither Carol nor I are allergic to pollen.  And as I was sweeping leaves and pollen from the deck two afternoons ago the sweat season returned.  The temperature was only 77F/25C but with high humidity sweat began pouring down my face.  I finished and came inside and turned on the air conditioning for the first time this year.