Fishing the High Seas – June 13, 2009

Once again awakened by our expensive flying alarm clocks, we stirred our coffee and made plans to fish. We backed out of the slip at the crack of 10 o'clock, filled our bait tank with what looked to me to be fair sized fish and headed for open water. Captain Jeff took over tactical control of the helm with Admiral Marc calling the shots on when and where to drop lines.

Neither Dave nor I were fishing. Dave served as official photographer and documentarian of our voyage and I, well, I hate fishing. In fact, I am by far the least seaworthy of the whole crew. It's not like I don't have the experience. After all I did serve in the United States Navy and spent an entire fourteen days aboard ship off the coast of Vietnam, North Korea and the sea of Japan. That however, is an entirely different story. We never fished during my entire naval career. I get seasick. The constant pitch and roll of a fishing boat does not sit well with my inner ear. However, I didn't want to miss this time with my brothers, brother-in-law and nephew. My brothers love to fish. I hung on and did my best to be somewhat useful and at least do no harm. Despite the best efforts of both the crew and wildlife to distract me and the deployment of the staysail, one of the unique aspects of the Grand Banks, to counteract the roll of the boat, I managed to deplete the contents of my stomach at an inopportune time.

On our way out to the kelp beds we rendezvoused with a group of dolphins that were driving up a school of bait fish. Circling round and round they drove the fish tighter and higher so their mates could feed. Not only the dolphins fed but dozens of gulls, terns and pelicans also shared the feast. It was actually the birds that drew our attention to the dolphins. As we drew nearer one of the dolphins came over and rode the bow wave of the Grand Banks. This is a sight that is always thrilling. Unfortunately, we were unable to capture it and share with you.

Since the rising bait fish attract not only the attention of aerial predators but larger fish in the sea as well, the Admiral passed orders to heave to and drop lines. Richard immediately hooked a twenty two inch barracuda but not for long. A sea lion rocketed in and expertly separated fish from hook. He then surfaced with the fish, tossed it into the air and shook it mockingly in our direction as if to say, “See who is king here!” Over the next few hours we fed bait fish to the sea lions, gulls, terns and even a few catch fish. The three fisherman landed five good calico bass. This was after waiting for a half hour with no lines in the water for the sea lions to give up and harass a different boat. With some difficulty, we hauled up the anchor and drove home.

Jeff again cooked up a great dinner from the fruits de mer and we all slept soundly that night.

Next: Sailboats don't roll!

Brothers on Boats – June 11-12, 2009

Since my younger brother wasn't going to get into San Diego until about 4:30 in the afternoon, we spent a leisurely morning in the hotel in Las Vegas. Writing some more of our blog and processing pictures, we left for San Diego at 11:30 in the morning. Not much to say about this trip across the desert. It was pretty much uneventful travelling south on I-15 and I-215. We stopped for gas after entering California which was a big mistake. Gas was a dollar more a gallon in California than it was in Nevada. We had an elegant lunch of pita bread and bologna in the parking lot of a closed bar next to the gas station. Once again Dave drove all the way until he became very tired about 80 miles north of San Diego. We switched drivers on the side of the highway and he immediately fell sound asleep. After sweeping up gorgeous vistas over the coastal mountains we dropped down into Mission Bay and pulled up at the marina. Good timing, my brother Marc had just arrived and escorted us onto his boat. Marc owns a 36 foot Grand Banks. It is a wooden boat that takes a great deal of care with twin Chrysler diesel engines. My nephew, Jeff, has a sailboat which is docked next to my brother's boat. It is a cutter, three sails, also wood, the same make as the sailboat that held a central place in the book “A Perfect Storm”. Jeff cooked us up a perfect storm of roasted chicken, corn and carrots. As the sun set in the Pacific, Dave and I completely shifted gears from America's neon playground to a mellow California mood. Helped along by pleasant conversation, good smokes and better bourbon, we rocked to sleep.

The next morning we were awakened by the world's most expensive alarm clock. Flight operations at San Diego airport, only a few miles from the marina, begin promptly at 6:30 A.M. Directly in the flight path, no one in the marina sleeps past 6:30. My older brother, Richard, flew down from northern California and Marc and I picked him up mid-morning. After laying in appropriate supplies, both liquid and solid, we embarked on a cruise around the bay in the afternoon. With Jeff at the helm, Marc in the Admiral's chair and Richard, Dave and I serving as auxiliary swabbies, we sampled the best of Southern California's sun, sea and sand.

Pulling back into the slip what happened next was surely an anomaly considering our location if not our home town. The seventh and final game of the Stanley cup was being played that evening between the Detroit Red Wings and the Pittsburgh Penquins. Since the game was on the Red Wings home ice in Detroit where they had previously frozen out the Penquins 5-0 in the fifth game, we were confident that the Wings would prevail. There are no televideo devices of any sort on my brother or nephew's boats but two slips down, John, a native of Toronto and an avid hockey and soccer fan, had a brand new 27 inch flat screen TV. John brought his screen up on deck and we gathered on the aft deck of his sailboat and watched the game in the middle of Mission Bay in San Diego. Unlike the sixth game which we watched in Las Vegas, all the cheering was in favor of the Red Wings. Despite the cheers, the weather and the company the Wings fell in a well played game that was in doubt until the final seconds.

We returned to Jeff's boat where I set up my computer to show family pictures to Jeff, Marc and Richard. These were no ordinary family pictures. After my mother passed away, I was cleaning out her condominium and came across several albums of old family pictures. My father was an avid and talented photographer so this did not surprise me. However, when I opened one of the albums, it was filled with hundreds of pictures that were taken by my grandfather. These snapshots were more than a hundred years old. Never having known either my grandfather or grandmother on my father's side of the family, they died before I was born, I was now in possession of many pictures of both my grandfather and grandmother at a young age both before and after they were married as well as their families and friends. That evening, I shared the result of scanning these pictures with my brothers. We spent the evening speculating on the identities of the subjects and the surroundings. A shared past brings the present closer.

Next: Fishing the High Seas.

It's Vegas Baby! - June 10, 2009

The Vegas hotel New York New York has a down to earth American theme. Breakfast was at the America restaurant the centerpiece of which is a huge curved map of the United States. The giant curved steel plates which hold the map are so large that they were fabricated in a shipyard on the east coast. Hundreds of artists worked on the the three dimensional decorations that populate the map. It hangs suspended across the middle of the eatery. We spent the morning catching up on writing and picture processing for the blog. Dave caught up on his sleep.

In the afternoon we set out to explore America's adult playground. If this was a normal Las Vegas vacation my description would end here as what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. But it won't. Taking a taxi we headed for what I consider to be the most beautiful hotel on the strip, the Bellagio. From the art glass roofed lobby to the expansive swimming pools they have spared no expense to make this a class act. Passing through the conservatory whose flower exhibition was circus themed, we had lunch in the modest cafe overlooking the pools.

As much as I enjoy the ambiance of the Bellagio, it is no place for amateurs to gamble. After lunch, we took a taxi down to Steve Wynn's newest creation, the Encore. On the way we talked with the driver about the economy in Las Vegas. We had noticed that there was a lot of major construction going on around the strip. However, none of it is active. No cranes are moving, no construction work is going on. The driver said that business had dropped off about 30% from 2006 to 2007 and another 8% from 2007 to 2008. We were enjoying some of the fruits of this as we got a really good rate and extra perks at our hotel. Our driver was a former loan officer for a major financial institution. When the housing market in Vegas went bust, he was laid off. Making a tough decision as to whether to stay and wait for a recovery in Nevada or return to his home in the Northwest, he decided to stay. Since he had to feed his family he started driving a cab.

Arriving at the Encore, we were astonished to find no other cabs waiting outside the hotel nor any other people waiting for transport. Every other hotel on the strip was crowded with people ready to check-in, check-out or move to their next stop on the strip. At the extreme north end of the strip, the Encore is the newest of the “new” hotels which populate Las Vegas Boulevard from Tropicana avenue to Sands avenue. Since it is so far north, the folks who walk up and down the strip haven't made it a stop as of yet. That seemed fine for the upscale clientel of the Encore who occupied the tables and slots inside the Encore. Unruffled by the riff-raff from outside they were happy to drop some of their euchre in the richly elegant surroundings designed by the original creator of the Bellagio. Both of Steve Wynn's hotels at the north end of the strip, the Wynn and Encore, have the same look and feel as the Bellagio. Beautiful, over the top, oversize decorations and calm elegance.

I won't dwell on each of our stops as we played tourist photographing and gambling in the Mediterranean elegance of the Pallazo, listened to the operatic overtures of the gondoliers at the Venetian and enjoyed the sweet, gritty sophistication of Paris. With the afternoon gone we returned to New York New York to catch the sixth game of the Stanley cup.

I had in mind watching the Cup on a room sized screen with screaming fans from both sides exchanging jibes and bets. ESPN was SRO so Dave and I wandered down to the quiet little Bar on Times Square where there were a few small screen TVs, one of which was showing the game. Unsuspecting, we sat down next to Tom and his friend from Western Pennsylvania who politely but firmly rooted for the Penguins Sitting between us was a sportswriter from Vancouver. Who would have thought that we could travel 2000 miles to a bar in Las Vegas and watch the Stanley Cup with a man who had played hockey most of his life in Pennsylvania and an expert scribe from Vancouver. Dave, Tom and the sportswriter exchanged hockey stories. We had a good time but the Wings were never in the the game.

After the game, we fueled up for a Las Vegas evening with a steak dinner at Gallagher's. Refreshed and refueled, we strolled across the street to the largest casino on the strip, the MGM. It was disappointing. Other than size, I feel the MGM has little to recommend it. We got lost, twice, inside. They run their blackjack tables like a Indian casino, always full. I don't care for that. We left shortly and returned to New York New York and decided to visit the storied Coyote Ugly bar. After paying the cover charge we found ourselves in the middle of a European nerd convention. Yes, there were girls dancing on the bar but somehow it missed, by a very large margin, the gritty coolness portrayed in the movie. We left there in short order after Dave scored a T-shirt from the gift shop. Yes, a gift shop in a bar.

We spent the rest of the night at a blackjack table with one of the sourest dealers I have ever had the played with. However, it was very profitable and we ended our night in Vegas on an upbeat note.

Next: Brothers on the boats.

Zion National Park – June 9, 2009

Dave was really blown away by Zion National Park. Last evening, after setting up camp we took the shuttle bus into the canyon that surrounds north fork of the Virgin River at the extreme south end of the park. Because of the small area and potential for heavy traffic, private cars are prohibited from the Zion Canyon Scenic Drive. As the sun set, we were treated to magnificent views of the many peaks along the drive. The Court of the Patriarchs, Angels Landing, with Watchman behind us. Dave shot 130 pictures in the 45 minutes that we were on the shuttle last evening.

Zion is a bit more upscale than El Morro or even the Grand Canyon. Because of the limited camping available, most visitors stay in one of the many hotels and motels in nearby Springdale. Filled with souvenier shops, rock and gem stores, restaurants and spas, Springdale is a classic western resort town. It's even upscale in the campground. “Camped” next to us was a fifth wheel complete with satellite dish. Now that's the way to rough it. Compared to our two person backpacking tent, Coleman stove and mid-size car, they were living in luxury.

With only three hours drive to our next stop in Las Vegas, we spent the entire morning driving the Zion-Mount Carmel Highway to the east entrance of Zion and back. Dave shot another 200 pictures of the sandstone canyons that changed along every turn. We were surprised to see a weather balloon tethered high above the canyon. After reaching Checkerboard Mesa, we headed back west and south for Las Vegas. Appropriately enough, it rained hard as we passed through Hurricane, UT. Leaving Utah, cutting across a corner of Arizona and passing through the Virgin River Canyon we dropped down onto the desert of Nevada.

Next: It's Vegas Baby!

Navajo Nation – June 8, 2009

We took a leisurely drive along the east rim of the Grand Canyon stopping at every lookout point. At Moran point, we spotted a group of six rafts floating in the Colorado river. We watched as they rounded a bend in the river and passed through whitewater rapids. They all made it through.

Shortly after leaving the park at Desert View, we also left the US and entered the Navajo reservation. We drove for a hundred miles along the west wall of the Echo Cliffs that guard the land of the People of the four Sacred Mountains. It is a vast, beautiful and desolate country.

At Bitter Springs, we branched off AZ 89 for alternate AZ 89 along the Vermilion Cliffs. We stopped and ate lunch along the roadside in the desert. Dave was very intent on keeping possession of the car keys as we were a good 20 mile hike from anywhere. I was scouting this area for the layered multicolored sandstone that I have seen in pictures. We didn't find it.
We left the res and entered the Kaibab National Forest climbing quickly from 2500 feet to about 5000 feet. The environment changed drastically from desert to forest and the temperature dropped from 90 to 70. At the north end of this section of the forest, we looked backed down into the desert and the rock walls of Zion and Bryce National Parks.

Next: Zion

Camping in the Canyon - June 7, 2009

It was another cold morning when the sun came up in El Morro National Monument. We ate a hot breakfast, packed quickly and headed out from El Morro up to Gallup along NM 602 through the Zuni Mountains. We spent time in the car writing the blog and moving pictures from cameras to computers. Unfortunately, we were so involved with the blog that we drove right by the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest national parks west of Gallup. The distance to the Grand Canyon was twice what I had estimated. We passed up a gas stop and arrived in Williams, AZ with only about a gallon left in the tank. Still, the G6 pulled us through. Heading north on AZ 64 we arrived at the Grand Canyon in mid-afternoon. After setting up camp, we made our first stop for groceries. I'd like to stop here and thank my sister for provisioning us in St. Louis which lasted until today.

We took the shuttle east to the visitor center and walked out to Mather Point. The walk along the south rim was crowded with folks from all over the world. We took pictures of them, they took pictures of us and we all took pictures of the Canyon.

Hopping back on the shuttle we went to Grand Canyon Village and walked along the rim outside the lodge. On a ledge below the artist studio, three condors treated us to a display of wings. By the way, condors are delicious when cooked over an open fire. They serve about four people. Thanks to Mr. Cheney for his good shooting. Our condolences to the families of the park rangers who were in his line of fire.

Next: The Navajo Nation