SAHS Class of 1962 Guest Book
Tell us some of what you've been up to the last 45 years.
Saturday, February 11, 2006 at 23:10:45 (EST)
From: C. Richard "Dick" Cobb, Sr.
email: richardcobb@adelphia.net
Huntington, WV USA
Message:
Hi, all you Red Dragons! Dick Cobb, Class of 1960, here! I am retired after 22 years as the CEO of convention and trade centers and sports arenas. Managed the Charleston (WV)Civic Center and the Augusta (GA)Coliseum in the 1970's, along with stints at The Spectrum sports arena in Philadelphia (PA) and the Indiana Convention and Trade Center in Indianapolis; the Bangor (ME) Bass Park Complex and the Huntington (WV) Civic Center, the Columbus (GA)Convention and Trade Center and the Gatlinburg (TN)Convention Center in the 1980's and early 1990's. Life has been good to me. I remember many members of the class of 1962. If any of you recognize me, email me to say hello. I cherish the memories of our high school days together. God bless each of you.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005 at 22:41:40 (EST)
From: Nancy Perkins Dunn aka Perky
email: nanperk56@yahoo.com
Kingwood, TX USA
Message:
Our class 1956 is putting together for our 50th. Your web page is very interesting and we hope to do the same if we can find someone with the skills. Haven't been back since my 20th and not sure about next summer when our 50th is going to happen. If someone would furnish more information on those unfound members maybe I can help you to find them. Let me know and it's great!
Tuesday, April 12, 2005 at 17:59:54 (EDT)
From: Deborah Byron
email: dabyron@windermere.com
USA
Message:
I am trying to locate the family of Vanessa Terry Reggettz who was murdered, along with her children, on December 13, 1979 in St. Albans West Virginia. She had sisters - Nora Terry Cragg and Belinda Terry Bucklen, and brothers David, Charles, and Timothy Terry. I am pretty sure her husband Paul Reggettz graduated from St. Albans in the late 50s or early 60s. I’m sure he at least attended there during that time. He was living with his grandmother, Rosetta Kidd. Vanessa and her siblings may not have been from the immediate area but I’m hoping that someone may remember them. If anyone knows Paul’s whereabouts I would like to contact him as well. My e-mail address is: dabyron@yahoo.com
Thank you for any help you can give me.
Sincerely,
Deborah Byron
Saturday, March 26, 2005 at 18:00:27 (EST)
From: Bob (Bobby) Rogers
email: brogers@newbohemians.net
Web Page: www.newbohemians.net
Tucson, AZ USA
Message:
Claire and I leave April 5 to ride our tandem bicycle from Beijing, China to somewhere in Europe via one of the Silk Road routes. Follow the links to Silk Road '05 at our web site: www.newbohemians.net We have a Kyrgystan visa, but may have to divert due to the recent political upheaval. Should be interesting, or as our Aussie friends would say, "bit of a bash mate!" Come along for the ride.
bob rogers
All prayers and positives thoughts welcomed!
Thursday, March 10, 2005 at 09:14:23 (EST)
From: C. Frank Brown
email: cfrankbrown@earthlink.net
Alvaton, KY USA
Message:
I retired recently due to health. I was in the Class of 1961. It was great to read some of the names from long ago. Many thanks.
Thursday, July 29, 2004 at 08:31:57 (EDT)
From: Connie Thacker Blevins
email: haleybw@peoplepc.com
Chattanooga, TN USA
Message:
Hello, This is Connie Thacker Blevins
I live in Chattanooga, TN and have worked at U.S. Pipe & Foundry Co. for 25 years. I'm a Secretary in our Human Resource Dept. I'm married and I have one son and 3 beautiful grandchildren.
My e-mail address is haleybw@peoplepc.com
Saturday, June 26, 2004 at 16:43:49 (EDT)
From: David Shortt
USA
Message:
Doug LaRue and Marsha (Racer) Downing are in Hawaii,
just thought i would let you know that
....david
Saturday, June 12, 2004 at 09:00:08 (EDT)
From: Susie Smith-Mabon
email: dentalperson@email.com
Home, Pa USA
Message:
I went to St. Albans Jr. High and moved the end of 8th grade and moved back after graduation. Mom and Dad still live in St. Albans so I am home quite often. Would love to hear from some of the old gang....Nancy Farmer, Nancy Priddy, Roger McClure.....I am coming in for the parade but since I did not actually graduate from SAHS....I'll only be attending the parade. Hope to see you then!
Wednesday, May 26, 2004 at 20:56:47 (EDT)
From: Ann Moran McFadden
email: ann3220@earthlink.net
USA
Message:
Just wanted to tell everyone that my email address has changed. Hope everyone will make note and email me sometime- ann3220@earthlink.net
Wednesday, May 26, 2004 at 07:22:50 (EDT)
From: Ruthanne (Ruthie) Kidd
email: Ameech@aol.com
USA
Message:
Hi, Doug,
I have enjoyed looking at your website. I don't know if you will remember me, but I attended ST Albans High School in the 10th grade and ST Albans Jr High 1956 thru 1959. Before that, I went to Fairview Grade School so I have a lot of people I would like to see or hear from.
The summer before the 11th grade, we moved to Tampa, Florida. I would like to have my education and life profile listed somewhere so folks can reach me. I realize that it would not be appropriate to have my picture on the 1962 graduating class, so I will leave that up to you as to where to put my info.
College........Old Dominion School of Nursing BS....1962
Old Dominion University, Master's Program
in Hospital Administration........1981
Norfork, Virginia
work.............Lake Charles Hospital, Morgan City, LA
George Washington University Medical Ctr. Wash., DC
Virginia Beach General Hospital, VA BCH, VA
Portsmouth Naval Hospital, Portsmouth, VA
National Medical Care, Chesapeake, VA
Also I have a picture of me in the 10th grade.
It was so good to see your website. You have done a lot of work and it looks so professional. I am so proud to be from St Albans, WV. Looking forward to your response.
Sincerely,
Ruthanne (Ruthie) Kidd
Friday, January 30, 2004 at 17:28:45 (EST)
From: Larry Thomas
email: larrygtx@hotmail.com
Maysel, WV USA
Message:
I live on a mountain top in Clay County, WV with my wife Nancy of 5 years and stepdaughter Whitney, who is 11. I have two daughter from my first marriage, Stephanie, living in Colonial Heights VA. with her husband Shawn and 3 children and Dawna who lives in The Colony TX. with her husband Mike and 2 children. My wife owns a restaurant called the Crossroads Best in Maysel, so if anyone ever goes driving in the boondocks, stop in for some good country cookin'.
Monday, January 26, 2004 at 12:41:41 (EST)
From: Bob Brown
email: bobbrown01@comcast.net
Riva, Md USA
Message:
What you all are doing is great. Until last night I did not know I was
missing. I remember all that attended Marshall with me and it is here
that I started to miss everyone. Went into the service and then finished at Marshall. Tough for several years. Graduated at WVU with
an MBA and have been in Maryland eversince. Do very much want to keep
in touch. My cell phone which I carry with me is 410 991 6711. Hope
to hear from all of you soon. Thanks Bob
Sunday, January 11, 2004 at 20:31:10 (EST)
From: Larry T. Lacy
email: lacyusafretired@yahoo.com
Sapain, CNMI USA
Message:
Just wanted to say hello to the folks I grew up with and enjoyed many good times. I miss you all. I retired from the Air Force in 1985 after 23 years of service.
Tuesday, September 02, 2003 at 10:58:29 (EDT)
From: BRENDA DUNCAN
email: Alan1fan@cs.com
Cleveland, Ohio USA
Message:
Hi everyone. I'm married to Ernie Handy of ST.Albans and now living in Cleveland, Ohio for 38 years. Been married for 42 years. We have 2 married Sons, named Ernie jr. age 38yrs. and james age 34yrs. If you remember me and want to get in touch with me just e-mail me, sure would love to hear from old friends from school.Love & Prayers to all, Brenda...
Wednesday, July 23, 2003 at 22:35:03 (EDT)
From: Arvyl Hypes
email: orville.hypes@verizon.net
Scott Depot, WV USA
Message:
Married to Josephine (Jo)Cassis Hypes; 2 daughters, Kimberly Hypes-Robinette, who resides in Lexington, KY; and Stacey Everett, who resides in St. Albans, WV.
Friday, May 16, 2003 at 19:07:42 (EDT)
From: Cynthia Thomas Sanson
email: mywvmomma@yahoo.com
St. Albans, WV USA
Message:
For anyone trying to get ahold of me through e-mail just wanted to let you know my address has changed to mywvmomma@yahoo.com Had a ball at the reunion thanks to all of you who put in time planning it.
Thursday, March 13, 2003 at 08:02:12 (EST)
From: Darrell Brightwell
email: darrellb1@charter.net
St. Albans, WV USA
Message:
Hey gang,
We will be getting together the second sunday of every month just for an informal gathering just to fellowship and discuss the class of 62 and just to keep up with our classmates .
Place: Shoneys in St. Albans
Time: 8:30 am
Our first meeting will be April 13th
For those that are out of town this is just to let you know what we are doing.
If you happen to be in town at the time of our get together we would love to see you.
Please try to attend as many as possible, We had a great 40th and we would like to just keep the meetings going.
Dont forget 2004 all class, And then 2007 class of 62
Thanks
Darrell Brightwell
208 Beverly st.
St. Albans W.Va 25177
1-888-723-2585 toll free
304-421-0003 cell
304-722-5103
304-722-6662 fax
any ? call me
Sunday, March 02, 2003 at 20:18:36 (EST)
From: Mickie Clatworthy
email: mickcburrows@aol.com
WV USA
Message:
Hey-have changed my e-mail address to mickcburrows@aol.com.
Many thanks for the wonderful web site. I have never strayed from my roots in St. Albans. I have three wonderful children, all living in other states. No grandchildren thus far. I have been single for the last ten years and share my home with an 85# Weimaraner named Gregor who thinks he is human.
I have worked as an RN for 21 years so far, specializing in obstetrics/gynecology, delivering many babies. I have taken care of many of our classmates and their grandchildren. Recently, I decided to change gears, and am now the Outreach Co-ordinator for WV Health Right, a free clinic for underserved, uninsured people in the area, serving over 17,000 people.
Thanks for keeping in touch through the website.
Saturday, March 01, 2003 at 14:12:11 (EST)
From: Richard Milam
email: samayor@charterbn.com
Web Page: stalbanswv.com
St. Albans, WV USA
Message:
Doug,
Thanks for putting up this web site, I've checked it many times but never took the time to say thanks. I'll never pretend to understand how these things work but thank goodness they do.
The Readers Digest version of my life story would be as follows.
Married to Jane Preston (So Charleston Class of 62) for 38 years with 2 daughters Kelli Jo and Kristi Dawn, Kristi is married to Ritchie Williams and lives in Charleston. Jane is a Breast Cancer Survivor of 3 years, and thank God the reports continune come back clear.
I grew up on Elliot St. and now we live a block away on Summit Dr., not much of a trip by some standards but it took us almost a lifetime to make it, but then again the trips not over yet. Worked 36 years for the State of West Virginia, started with the State Road Commission and retired from the Division of Highways. It was the same place they just changed the name.
As I tell people now, part of my mispent youth was spent chasing a dream from dragstrip to dragstrip up and down the east coast. Our major accomplishment was that we didn't have to declare bankruptcy, or wind up divorced. All the time we were doing this I was still working for the state.
Jane and I have been active in various civic groups over the years, The Jaycees, Civitans, and now the Lions Club.
Retirement brought on what some of you may have experericenced , a mid-life crisis. A lot of guys by a Harley, I'm way too clumsy
for that so I ran for, and was elected, Mayor of St. Albans. There are days that I think you guys with Harleys may have made the best decision.
All in all, Life's been good and I can't wait to see what happens next!
Thursday, January 23, 2003 at 01:23:24 (EST)
From: Ruthanne (Ruthie) Kidd-Amici
email: ameech@aol.com
Suffolk, VA USA
Message:
Hi, everyone,
It was good to see this website. I remember so many of you & would love to see you again. My family moved to Florida after the 10th grade but I spent 10 yrs in St albans schools & those were the best school yrs for me & the school friends which I remeber the most. I live in Norfolk, Virginia. Would love to hear from you.
Thursday, January 02, 2003 at 06:50:33 (EST)
From: Carol Pauley
email: tackywildchild@yahoo.com
Web Page: None
Charleston, WV USA
Message:
I live in WV now after a couple of stints in California. Single, One son, Kelley and granddaughter Nikki and one daughter, Kim and son Cody. I loved CA but after grandchildren, WV is my home. Would love to talk to classmates and would love to see a 1960-61 year book
Friday, November 08, 2002 at 10:37:38 (EST)
From: Bob Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
USA
Message:
We are safely back in Bundaberg, Queensland, Australia after approximately 5,000 nautical
miles of South Pacific cruising on the catamaran Songlines. We left July 8 and returned October 31.
Sunday October 20, Port Vila, Vanuatu. There was a Port to Port Fun Ocean Passage meeting at the
Rossi, fancy restaurant who's owner is the organizer. We were interested to meet the other
yachties involved. However as the afternoon of beer drinking and BSing dragged on, Claire and I
lost interest and decided we wanted to spend more time with the locals downtown. We were looking
for a newspaper in the supermarket when we heard the unmistakable thump of drum, crash of cymbal
and blare of trumpet; a marching band! In Vanautu? Down the street marched the band, green
and yellow uniforms, playing a familiar hymn with vigor and marching with style. Behind them
followed at least a thousand waving smiling Melanesians, and a smattering of white folks,
carrying flags of many nations, including the USA. Some chanted Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, smiling
all the while. I could feel it in my chest, as it echoed off the buildings of the narrow street. I
felt something akin to a thrill of good will for their joy, a feeling having little to do with my
typical conflicted Westerner's relationship with religion. However, after listening to our
skipper, Neville's regular preachings of Atheism, his own religion, for four months, I am more
inclined to look with favor on these practitioners of Old Time Religion, full of life
and joy. We followed them down the street cheering them on, waving and smiling back at
them. We stopped an old woman hobbling along the sidewalk, too slow for the parade, what the
occasion was. She told us it was the opening of a two day prayer gathering on the hill above town
where they were marching. I was reminded that we heard the evening and morning devotionals given
over a loudspeaker at the market, from our anchorage nearby. Sometimes they would sing
before and after the prayers and preaching, and it was the most beautiful singing imaginable. It
drifted to us over the dark waters of the bay each evening wrapped in the mystery of their
language, Bislama and came again with morning's first light; a wonderful awakening.
October 24 Thursday. First Vila and then the mountains of the island of Efate fade slowly over
a horizon clean, flinty blue and hard edged. Easy winds fill the drifter/reacher, red orange and
yellow against the pale blue tropic sky. It appears this will be our first passage with
following winds, the southeast trades. We just ghost along at 5 to 7 nautical miles per hour;
very slow for Songlines, and I can feel the skipper's frustration at not being able to will
wind into the sails to get us up to the 10 knots or better he expects.
October 25 Friday. Still no wind. I took a noon sun shot with Neville's sextant. When I checked
it with the GPS it was about 7 miles off the correct latitude. Not terrible in the middle of
the ocean, but dangerously loose for coastal navigation! I still can't do the calculations for
longitude. Looks like a project.
October 26 Saturday. Wind is weakening. The drifter and spinnaker change places often, and
each time the mainsail has to go up or down. I'm getting a bit of exercise grinding the main
halyard winch. There is one very good thing about easy following winds; Claire is not seasick!
Moonrise on night watch was a brilliant orange ball rising through black lumpy clouds over a
royal blue metallic sea. It looked liked a crayon drawing I once did for Halloween, about age
eight.
October 28 Chesterfield Islets, New Caledonia. 600nm from Vila, 400 from Bundaberg, we are
illegally in French territory. The Gendarmes of the sea may descend on us during the night, take
us to Noumea to be locked away forever. It could happen. It has happened before. Worse, the
freezer is full of fish caught coming over the reef, and this is a marine reserve, according to
a sign on a small sand cay near our anchorage. I would not have fished there. I am not the
captain.
In the afternoon, while Neville and Greg (who came back from Australia for this passage) slept,
we rowed the skiff ashore. The small islet/cay was filled with pelagic birds nesting in the low
scrub and on the sand. Huge holes, practice egg nest holes, dug by sea turtles were everywhere,
the tracks up and down the beach looking as if made by some small lost piece of earth moving
equipment. We walked all around one islet, a half mile at best, watching the birds and an amazing
collection of shore crabs.
The lagoon is white sand bottom, with isolated coral patches, intensely turquoise. So intense is
the color of the sea that it colors turquoise the white undersides of all the flying sea birds. We
thought we had discovered some new form of sea birds, never discovered! We would be famous,
toast of all our Audubon Society friends... Oh well, it was magic anyway.
Where our islet met another across a narrow shallow inlet, the sea washed us from two sides.
We stood there, turned full circle and were awed. All this life in the middle of a very large sea,
solid ground, tiny but solid, and we were there, together, looking into the amazed eyes of boobies
sitting on piles of white fluff, their babies, smelling the sea and bird guano, feeling the
southing sun on our shoulders, hearing the clattering pebbles, the schusshing of sand around
our legs, the gurgle of everlasting water.
Humans visit here in limited numbers, probably only half of the year, only from private yachts,
it is too far for tourist boats to visit from anywhere. It was nice to be alone together, in
such a place, to marvel at our good fortune yet again, to be thankful. This would be our idea of
a place to anchor for a week, or more. This would be our idea of a cruising lifestyle; not
anchoring for weeks at a time with other yachties, comparing mechanical problems, and
cheap duty free booze, drinking too much, eating too much, talking too much. The sound of the sea
and bird calls is sweeter than all the rest.
Tuesday October 29. We got our wished for wind, 25knots, and some moderately big seas as soon as
we left the lagoon at Chesterfield. Of course it was on the nose, going to windward again. But all
day and all night we ran 9 to 10 knots, buckets of seawater dousing the cockpit. Back to normal.
Back to what we know best!
It didn't last. Winds eased and the next two days seemed slow. We were ready to be back to
Australia, ready to be land slugs again, ready to process what we learned about the sailing life,
and what we didn't. Several days of parties followed landfall in Bundaberg. Many boats come
here for cyclone season each year, and many of them come in with the Port to Port rally. The
local community welcomed us with traditional Aussie barbies, and of course beer and Bundaberg
rum, dances, contests (Songlines won the trivia contest; I knew that OJ Simson lived at 39 Canyon
Way, don't ask me how.),boat decoration contests... We enjoyed meeting with many of the
yachties we had only heard on the radio, and others we had met in Vila or elsewhere in the
Pacific. We particularly enjoyed two couples who were cruising with small children, and schooling
them along the way. The children will become very self sufficient adults.
We will travel for another month, visiting friends made during our cycle trip around
Australia. We will be enjoying spring into summer here, and dreading how cold it might be when we
return to Tucson in December. Considering it is an El Nino year, it might be wet too. Oh well,
maybe I'll finish that novel yet.
Fair winds and all the best,
Claire and Bob
Tuesday, October 22, 2002 at 08:06:20 (EDT)
From: Robert Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
USA
Message:
Hello from Vanuatu from Bob and Claire
Our passage from New Caledonia was a quick one, 31 hours at an average of nearly 10 knots per
hour. The sheets were stressed into ovals and the blocks creaked with each gust. Nev's idea of
cruising is like most sailors idea of racing. He expects the sails to be trimmed to perfection at
all times. When someone else is on watch and the
speed drops a knot, he's on deck wondering why;
he trims the sails and we're off again pushing
and creaking, banging into the seas throwing
spray; then he's off to bed with a shake of his
head and a grumble at the precious time lost.
Claire really would like a bit less speed, but
she has learned that is sailing blasphemy, and
tries to hold her tongue. I don't really mind a
bit of speed, but am not really very good at
keeping it up. Neville can see when the sail is
not performing and it looks fine to me, not
luffing or shaking, or shimmering at the peak. A
catameran is not like a keelboat, which tells you
what is going on by heeling to the wind shifts
and transmitting it through the rudder. The feel
is much more subtle on a cat, and difficult to
learn, at least for me. When the winds pass 25
knots and we feel like we are skipping across the
water at 12-16 knots, I'm not so sure a bit less
speed is not okay too, particularly when those
squalls smudge the night sky, hiding the odd 50
knot knock...
Vila is our kind of town. We felt that Noumea was
a bit too French, a bit too white for this part
of the world. The French (it is a territory of
France) have subdued the Melanesian population to
the point of being nearly invisible, seen mostly
lying under bushes in the parks, cowering from
the Gendarmes, avoiding the eyes of whites. The
same race of people here in Vanautu, where they
have their own country since the 80's (it used to
be New Hebrides, jointly adminstered by the
British and French). They have a vibrant economy
and, most importantly, deal with foriegners as
free people. They are very friendly and open,
just as the Fijian Melanesians were, and a joy to
be around. They look you in the eye, smile when
you smile, offer a hand of greeting and a wave
goodby.
The Vila market is a wonder, and the best we have
seen in the three Melanesian countries we have
visited. The produce comes in all day, fresh from
the countryside, offered by friendly faces. Most
of the vendors spend 3 to 5 days at the market,
24 hours a day, and go home for the week-end,
always for Sunday. They sleep at the bayside
market, on woven coconut palm frond mats, for the
entire time, taking turns selling, sleeping, and
caring for children. It is not unusual to see
mother and baby cuddled together on the thin mat
over concrete, while the aunt or granny takes
care of the produce. The men bring the produce in
from the countryside all day long, replenishing
the tables. It is a beautiful sight: many
coloured and strange root vegetables, fruits and
green vegetables, tomatoes (like you would grow
yourself, ripe and sweet) red bell peppers
(capsicum for our Aussie friends) small sweet
bananas, grapefruit, oranges, lemons, clusters of
several coconuts ($.70US) and many many things I
despair of trying to describe and have no way of
naming. One day Claire and I had lunch at the
market: dalo, a root vegetable paste/pudding with
a piece of "meat" (don't ask) on top, wrapped in
a bananna leaf. Then we bought a drinking coconut
each,a slightly sweet clear refreshing liquid.
After we finished the dalo and meat and drank the
coconut milk, we smashed the coconut on the
concrete and scooped the sweet gelatinous meat
out for the shell for dessert. Yummy lunch for
the equivalent of $2.64 US$. These are the kind
of experiences we treasure most from our travels.
After a few days in Vila we sailed to the NW side
of Efate Island to Havannah Harbour where we
anchored for the night off a small village hidden
in the coconut palms and behind the mangroves.
After sunset the wind calmed and the sea went
flat and quiet, dark with an inner blue glow.
Small phosphorescent sea bugs floated around
Songlines in the dark, replacing the stars lost
to cloud cover. They turned on and off slowly,
drifting in the gentle tidal current, looking for
love. The next morning Karlos and Esau paddled up
in Karlos's small dugout outrigger canoe. Karlos
asked Neville to take them around to the outer
reef where we could all find better fishing, as
their craft was not suitable for the trip or the
seas that might be encountered. The three of them
went out in our inflatable to anchor over the
reef ledge and fish with spear guns. Claire
decided to stay on board because salt water would
slow the healing of a cut on her finger, and she
wanted time to sketch from Songlines. I decided
to swim from Songlines to the reef next to a line
of cliffs nearby:
I don snorkel, mask and flippers and begin
swimming slowly toward the reef. I check the
condition of our anchor rode and anchor set on
the way out: anchor set in white sand at 10
metres, chain and rode clear of anything that
might hang us up when we try to raise it;
something I always do when snorkeling when the
water is clear enough. I follow a white sand lead
between the coral far below me, experiencing
again that strange feeling of flying very slowly.
Small electric blue fish flit from coral patch to
coral patch, ignoring me, so high above them. The
bottom comes up to meet me, now 5 metres, and
some of the larger fish flee the strange creature
with funny flippered legs, clumsy and slow. Large
coral heads mushroom up from the last of the
bleached coral sand, leaving dark ledges for big
things to hide under - a black tipped reef shark?
- a hammerhead shark? The tops of the coral heads
now are too shallow to swim over top of in the
swell that I notice steepening near them, so I
follow narrowing leads shorward. Some are
dead-ends and I have to be careful not to damage
the coral, or cut myself, when I turn to retrace
my route. I don't like the swell when I am close
to the hard sharp stuff. I am nearing the cliff
face and want to avoid getting too close where I
might come to grief. I look above the water to
get my bearings and I see a low cave not 30
metres away. Suddenly my curiosity overcomes my
tentativeness; I want to see what is in that
cave. I try a couple of shallowing leads,
following a brilliant yellow and blue striped
perch. He leads me to two mushrooms of coral the
size of buses, overhanging, nearly joining, too
narrow to swim through and rising above the
water. My fish swims under them and I follow,
diving a couple of metres below to clear the
coral. My guide abandons me halfway, and it looks
further than I thought, but I come up okay, and
very near the mouth of the, mostly underwater
cave. I surface and find I have wandered off
course a bit, and have to swim back under the
coral heads again. I see a beautiful yellow and
black and white parrot fish hanging head down,
floating with just a tentative fin flick now and
again. I float and watch him. Maybe he's lost
too? I follow a promising lead into very shallow
water covered with new corals I have never seen.
The light is weak, and I realize it is not a
cloud, but the cave overhang that fosters the
growth of the unusual coral. I look ahead and all
is dark. Do sharks like dark caves? The bottom
turns to bleached broken staghorn coral pieces,
shallows to a steep beach at the end of the cave,
a dozen metres into the cliff. I climb out and
sit. It is dark,and smells sweet. Just a sliver
of light comes through above water. The bleached
coral beach appears to glow from the light piped
in through the water. The small sliver of horizon
I see seems very empty, Songlines, and Claire far
away, out of sight. It is silent and dark, and
reminds me of special hidey-holes I found as a
small boy growing up in the country; places that
belonged to me alone for a short time, places to
be quiet and listen and smell, and think about
things I can't remember now, perhaps travel... I
want to stay longer in my limestone and coral
hidey-hole, but the realization that the rising
tide would make for a very long underwater swim
if I waited too long sent me slowly swimming back
out over the reef again, following the butterfly
fish, coral fish, angelfish, anemonefish,
damselfish, parrotfish through the undulating
blue tinted world of coral and light, slowly
following a sand lead back to Songlines.
We're back in Vila for a few days preparing for
the 1000 mile crossing to Australia in a couple
of days, weather depending. Wish is fair winds
(for once!) We will be traveling in radio contact
with several other yachts in the Port Vila to
Port Bundaberg sailing rally. Web site:
www.therossi.com/port2port.htm
We expect to be in Bundaberg November 1.
all the best,
Bob and Claire
Sunday, September 29, 2002 at 21:20:58 (EDT)
From: Robert Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
USA
Message:
Bob and Claire here.
We've been in New Caledonia for nearly a month
now. We had a bit of a thrill on passage from
Fiji when the mainsail blew out under stress.
Nevill likes to go fast, and so does Songlines,
but her 12 year old mainsail let go at a seam. It
took a long time for us to get it repaired here
and we were stranded in Noumea. As any of you
sailors know, it's hard to go to windward with
headsail only so we didn't want to get stuck far
away and not be able to get back.
But staying for two weeks in Noumea gave us lots
of time to search for a certain hospital that our
friend Ray Groendyke from Far Horizons Trailer
Village in Tucson helped build in 1942 while
serving in our armed forces.
The language barrier for us is considerable here.
The French don't like to learn English, my French
is almost nil, and Claire's is a bit better, but
misses the subtle things needed for such a
search. We began at the municipal museum which
proved to have one short paragraph about the U.S.
presence in WWII, and a few pictures, none of
them of hospitals. They only mentioned that New
Caledonia had been changed forever by the
American presence. Next we went to the public
library, our favorite place anywhere, and were
shown a large volume of the history of New
Caledonia during WWII, all in French of course.
However I can read French much better than I can
speak or understand spoken, so I read all I could
on the American presence. There were many
fascinating pictures which helped. There had been
an American hospital 16 kilometres north of town
on the Plains of Dumbea, but since Ray said they
could easily walk to town, I assumed it was not
the hospital he worked on. Several mentions were
made of Hospital 105 which appeared to be in
Noumea, so we concentrated on that. I discovered that General Patch's headquarters had been
located at a beach where we had walked to from
town just the day before, L'Anse Vata.
On the map of the city are two neighborhoods
named Motorpool and Receiving, obviously from
that period, but are now just residential areas.
We anchored off L'Anse Vata for a few days, just
for a different view from the commercial port,
and found a small group of WWII era buildings
housing a clinic. There Claire's French got that
it was indeed part of "the" American Hospital in
WWII, and that if we came back the next day there
would be an Australian gardener who knew more of
the history. We rowed in again the next day and
met John Clifford who had been in NC for 30
years. He told us the clinic was the remaining
buildings of the only big hospital in Noumea,
finished in September of 1942, and that these
final buildings would be torn down in the next
four years. The staff are all sad to be leaving
as they love the buildings. John also told us
that General Patch's headquarters had been torn
down a year before, just across the street. All
that was left of it was an octagonal concrete pad
and a flagpole base. What a beautiful view you
must have had Ray! It's still beautiful. We have
pictures.
There is also a lovely memorial in the central
city area memorializing the American presence
here and thanking us for coming here. It's a
quite lovely memorial and well taken care of it
appears. We have learned that there is a Friends
of America group here who want to preserve what
is left of the infrastructure left when the
military left here at the end of the war. Just a
week before we visited L'Anse Vata Clinic, the
city museum staff had come to collect operating
room lights that were still there, and still
working! We have been unable to contact the head
of Friends of America, but have given our email
address to two people who can get in touch with
him. We hope to eventually hear from him and
learn more.
It has been a fascinating search for Fleet
Hospital 105, and made our stay special, leading
us to stretch our French and meet nice people. We
hope to have more info for you Ray, when we get
back in December.
With our newly repaired mainsail, we headed south
to the island of Kuni, or Isle des Pins as
renamed by the French. It is the most beautiful
single spot we have visited. The pines are so
ancient that they were around at the same time as
the dinosaurs, and they look ancient. We spent a
week sailing and anchoring in beautiful
anchorages, visiting a village (more modern than
in Fiji) and exploring shallow bays in the
deflatable (that's what Nev calls it because it
deflates slowly and often)where only the local
sailing pirogues go. We fished a bit and Neville
caught one nice fish that fed the three of us. We
always cut up several small pieces, fry them in
butter and test for ciguatera, a very nasty reef
fish poison that can kill. If we don't feel any
ill effects from a small amount, we eat the lot
the next night.
We also got in quite a bit of sailing in the
skiff in the small bays where we anchored. I got
my first taste of sailing a small boat in a bit
of wind. While trying to do a jibe in 15 knots
from a beam reach (I can hear the sailors
laughing)the boat tried to corkscrew into the
water, with me inside, and succeeded. I ended up
underneath the overturned boat with a tangle of
lines, the mast pointing straight down. I managed
to swim out, grab the daggerboard, stand on the
underside of the hull, turn the whole thing
upright, climb in and begin bailing in less than
a minute, without knowing what I was doing at
all. Nev, who was fishing from the deflatable
roared up and said, "Well done!", a rarity,
believe me. I did learn what not to do and gained
some confidence that turning a skiff turtle is
not big deal. A few days later I even managed to
get my backside up on the gunnels and found it a
wonderful position for sailing. Claire is also
making progress in the skiff, but has yet to turn
it over. Soon.
Our last bay in Ile des Pins was the most
beautiful, Baie d Gadji. Coming into the bay we
had as little as one metre of water under the
hulls, weaving between mustard brown patches of
bommies even closer to the surface. When we are
goiing through shoal coral areas, Nev steers,
Claire stands on the cabin top, and I stand on
the port or starboard bow, both of us straining
to see the patch of coral that could rip the
bottom out of one of Songline's hulls, leaving us
to sail back to Noumea with several tonnes of
water and a bit of a lean. (multi-hulls don't
sink since they don't have pieces of lead on the
bottom to drag them down). When we see something
we have to tell him precisely where the danger
lies, "10 degrees off port bow, 50 metres" and
point to it for a guide so he can steer away
without actually seeing it himself. All this can
be exhausting.
Shallow coral seas have a wide range of colours
from brown through yellow, light green to
aquamarine, pale blue and deep blue. Songlines
can safely pass over aquamarine, which is 1 to 2
metres over white sand, and light green, the same
depth over coral.
We'll leave New Caledonia in a few days for
passage to Vanautu, 300 miles to the north and
east of here. We hope for good winds, but not too
good!
all the best,
Bob and Claire
Sunday, August 25, 2002 at 22:05:25 (EDT)
From: Robert Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
USA
Message:
Well, last time I was whingeing about minor
things like awful weather, uncharted reefs, bad
anchorages, a buggered finger, being scared of
losing Songlines... This is the good stuff. Fiji
people and their beautiful land and villages.
Monday July 29. Yalobi Village. Took the duck to
the village and made arrangements with John to
return in afternoon the present yaqona to the
chief. It is traditional for visitors in Fiji to
bring the herb as a gift. It is used to create a
drink called kava, the main social drink in Fiji.
With the presentation of the bundle of dried
sticks, the chief accepts it with a long speech
in Fijian punctuated by rhythmic claps by several
men and women invited to participate. Sometimes a
coconut shell of kava is presented to the
visitors. It is impolite to refuse the rather odd
tasting stuff. It looks like very used dish
water, and tastes a bit like a mild solution of
iodine. Then your tongue and lips go a bit numb,
and that's it, nothing more. Apparently if drunk
for hours, a sort of downer occurs. We were at a
village where the men drank and played guitar and
sang for hours, gradually slowing in both until I
thought they might fall over asleep in the middle
of a song. Apparently there is no hangover or ill
effects, and if a much preferred social drink to
alcohol which often makes people aggressive.
After the chief's long welcome speech, we were
told the village was now ours to enjoy; we could
fish the bay, swim the reef, walk through the
paths of the village or over the island. Pretty
good for a couple of bucks Fijian. It's a good
idea. It gives the villagers a chance to check
out the visitors, and makes the visitors feel
welcome and comfortable. We walked around the
village for awhile, stopping to visit with people
who acknowledged us and generally getting our
bearings. The houses are simple, either made of a
grass or reed material, or more recently concrete
block or brightly painted clapboard with tin
roofs. The villages are criss crossed with paths
lined with beautiful flowers and shaded by trees.
The women rake the paths and their own dirt
yards. Delightful. There is no glass in the
windows or doors on the houses, everything is
open to the delightful tropical temperatures and
their neighbors eyes. Living half the year as we
do in Far Horizons Trailer Village, similarly
tightly packed, we understand the positives of
close packed living. People are more civil,
because the consequences of not being civil are
too high, and it's just more fun! The villages
all have several conveniently located water
pipes, and a number of pit toilets. They are
quite clean and tidy, regardless of their
simplicity. Claire looked at one particularly
small, brightly painted house, as the woman
washed dishes in a dish pan inside and a man
lounged on the grass mat floor, "I could live
here!" And I knew she would. Small as it was,
it's bigger than our tent, but smaller than
Songlines.
We said we wanted to walk up the mountain and
were directed to a path that led past the
cemetery. It sounded interesting, and the three
of us, barefoot as always now, began padding up a
well worn dirt track into the jungle. We met a
cow, some pigs, a man was burning and chopping
with his long knife, nearby two women were raking
brush together and burning it. They were
preparing small patches under the cover of the
jungle for planting casava, one of the root
plants that makes up their staple diet. The
plants and trees all had large glossy leaves,
looking like nothing we are familiar with. Hi up
the trail we met three people. One of them spoke
English and we conversed for awhile. Before
leaving us she offered us a green paw paw she was
carrying. The view half way up the mountain was
over the bay where the red Songlines rode quietly
at anchor (finally) and high volcanic mountains
stretched down the island chain. We walked back
down the trail, visiting with a horse along the
way before making our way along the beach to the
local school. Claire was immediately surrounded
by a bunch of kids, as she almost always is here,
anywhere. It is a large residential school where
kids come to live for the week and small boats
come for them from their villages at the
week-end. There was a large football field in the
center where the teens played a vigorous game of
touch rugby. (Fiji recently beat Britain in this
year's Commonwealth Games.
August 6 Naviti Island.
We are sitting on the verandah of a small Fijian
resort (not like our western idea of a resort) on
the beach after sunset. The sea comes in like
fine silk snapped in the air into gentle waves,
pale blue with black faces and shush gently up
the sand. It doesn't matter that this is halfway
around the world from our home. It is the moment
that matters, the moment that becomes part of the
fabric of who we are. Another precious moment
suspended in time and space in the middle of
unnoticed exotica; the exotic becomes just
another element in the texture of this experience
we call life. Travel makes us so so thankful of
these moments, because life is just moments,
moments strung together over a life span. It is
not the span of life that matters, but the life
in the span of the moment you are experiencing
right now that matters. Appreciate it. Enough
preaching!
The chief cook showed us how to scrape the meat
out of a coconut quickly and cook fish over a 55
gallon drum with a small fire inside, and handed
us samples with his big black fingers. How sweet
it is, the sincerely offered gift. I notice that
these small backpacker resorts, staple of the
cash economy of these islands, we are attracted
to the Fijians working there and the young white
backpackers seem to only gravitate to each other
and have no contact with their servers. They are
missing so much. They were playing music, and as
usual, when it has a good beat, we can't resist
and did a six count swing to some Fijian music.
All cooking stopped! The kitchen door and window
swung open and smiling Fijian faces appeared
everywhere yelling and clapping! After dinner, a
different beat and we did our sexy little cha cha
to another Fijian song and got an ever stronger
response from the staff, and then tried to teach it to a few who asked. We've never had a better
audience. This was our anniversary treat, two
days late. Later the head cook and another staff
helped the three of us carry the rowing skiff
across low tide coral, barefoot, in the dark. We
laughed at the cuts we were getting and the good
time we'd all had during the evening. Just as we
were about to shove off, the head cook, a huge
man, grabbed me and gave me a big hug! They are
such wonderful people people, and love strangers
who respond to them just as much as their own.
Too bad about the young backpackers. They appear
to be trying so much to impress each other that
they are missing the experience of a lifetime. We
will never forget Naviti.
Twilight in the tropics. Pink and gray clouds
streaked, smoky, billowing high. Jade coconut
trees with gray trunks on white sand. Aquamarine
water over the reef, stippled and coloured with a
mix of pink and blue/green from the sky, changing
slowly, gently into night.
Saturday Aug. 10
A pounding tropic rain woke us at 4a.m. We closed
the hatches while Neville slept, and sat up
buckets to catch water. We were naked, as we are
always on deck at night, and when it rains. No
use wetting clothes that won't dry in the
humidity. We dried off a bit and returned to our
cabin to enjoy the fruits of marriage (was that
subtle enough?) and then returned to the deck
with soap for a second bracing wash up. Then we
returned to doze away the two hours until dawn,
the rain pattering above our heads, lulling us
deliciously. Another late anniversary.
Wednesday Aug. 14 Nabukera Village.
We bought a
green paw paw for stir-fry and walked the beach.
Claire collected shells, and later talked with a
young woman who was visiting her grandparents
during school holidays. Then the children saw us
and came out to play. As always everyone asks
your name, and gives theirs, with a solemn bulla
bulla (their hello) and then the fun begins:
Girls do cartwheels down the beach and sing out
to me, doing a play on my name, "ba ba see me!"
"ba ba see me!" all competing for my attentions;
six year old flirts! So cute. They laughed
because ba ba means baby in their dialect!Then a
croup of them sang some of their school songs for
us. As usual we hated to leave. Each village is
more friendly than the last. We could easily live
among these people.
Friday Aug. 16 So So Village.
Two boys in a canoe made of scrap wood and
corrugated tin roofing, paddled out to Songlines
and sold Claire a bunch of green bananas. Claire
and I rowed the skiff to the village and walked.
We met a woman peeling green plantians for
cooking for lunch who invited us to sit with us
and talk. Claire gave her children stickers and
showed her postcards of America and pictures of
us on our tandem and with our tent. Then we
walked the vegetable patch paths and met a man
and his small daughter having a break, eating a
coconut. The mountains are jade in colour and
have long thing wispy ribbons of blue smoke from
the burning of casaba, banana and sweet potato
patches. The people in these villages live simple
lives. Their diet consists of root vegetables and
fruit with a fish once in awhile. The
descriptions sounds poor, and yet... They have
the healthiest looking skin past middle age, I
have ever seen. Many of the chiefs are in their
eighties and still look good, with strong muscles
and bright eyes. They are relaxed. Everyone
works. Everyone shares. Human relationships are
the most important thing in their lives. They are
not poor. When they get television, then they
will become poor.
Monday Aug. 19. Nalawaki Bay on Waya I.
Beautiful bay. Steep volcanic mountains rising to
sharks tooth points, grass meadows, black rock
and soil, cream colour beaches and a live reef.
1000 hours. An old gaff rigged wood fishing boat
came in from So So Bay loaded to the gunnels with
young Fijians. Much yelling waving and laughing
from boat to shore. Several small boat transfers
over the reef and the gaffer motored past us back
toward So So. More laughing and yelling until,
suddenly the local kids started jumping into the
water to swim the 100 metres back to shore. Such
happy people. We later learned some of them were
going to Suva to a Christian camp where they
would sing.
1100 We rowed into beach and Joe, Jim and John
showed us the safe way through the low tide reef,
then took us to the chief. After the Yaqona
presentation we walked through the village and
were welcomed at a blue and green trim doll house
where three women were rolling dried palm fronds
in preparation for making the beautiful mats they
live on. We visited and they invited us back. We
walked to the mouth of the creek where we saw
women washing clothes. Three kids escorted us as
we attempted to climb the steep water fall,
boulder strewn creek. We sent the kids back after
awhile and continued climbing boulders until
jungle stopped us. After our return to the beach
we were walking toward the skiff when, "Come,
come." said a woman from the blue and green
house. "Come and have tea." We went, sat on the
matt with the family, had tea in huge mugs and
wonderful corn flour scones. Claire gave the
children stickers and we all talked. One woman
spoke very good English and the others looked at
us and smiled. How do you repay poor people who
have you for tea? Smiles. Smiles are valued here.
Photo:
A cool creek plunges through black volcanic
boulders through jungle thick with vines and dark
green, small lizards and spiders. At the mouth,
on the beach, the sun shines on a small pool in
gravel. A woman, deep black with a beautiful
welcoming smile washes clothes. Around her on the
rocks are piles of colorful clothes. She picks up
a red sulu (Fijian wrap dress. Claire has one)
and dashes it in the soapy water pool. She flings
it on the rock and flails at it, thwack, thwack,
thwack with a curved stick. Then she turns the
cloth and thwacks it again, and again. Then it
goes into a pile for rinsing in a clear pool. Her
children play in the water and climb the rocks
like spiders, gripping the slick rocks with their
big black toes, laughing, babbling in their
beautiful melodic native language., Later the
woman will spread her clean clothes on the beach
cobble to dry in the sun.
On the reef, a man throws a fine net in a wide
arc onto the water, begins to quickly draw it in.
The water dances with fish, and he gathers the
wriggling mass of silver flashes to his chest and
wades ashore to the exclamations of his
neighbors. He dumps it into a beached canoe and
begins sharing them.
Friday Aug. 22
We paused on a beach walk to talk with Jim and
Kelly. Jim goes to school in Suva and will stay
there to work and is visiting his grandmother for
school holiday. He touches on the recent troubles
between the native Fijians and the Indian
population, brought here by the British to work
the cane fields in colonial days. "Fiji people
hate Indian people." He says it matter of factly,
without apparent malice, just stated as a fact.
"Fijians are very good people. But, when Fijians
go bad, they go very bad." This refers to the
violence of the troubles. It is a difficult
problem, not easily solved as are most
racial/religious divisions.
When we were leaving the beach a beautiful young
girl smiled at me. "I see you at So So," she
said, all teeth and dancing eyes. Claire
remembered her too. Such wonderful people. Their
faces make me happy.
I wish I had many more hours to write, but time
is short. We are watching the weather for an
opening to make passage to New Caledonia. It will
be two or three more weeks before I write I
think.
all the best,
Bob and Claire
Sunday, August 25, 2002 at 19:55:30 (EDT)
From: Robert Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
USA
Message:
Bob and Claire here.
We're back in Lautoka after three weeks cruising
the central and northern Yasawas. We're both
doing well and enjoying the Fijian people.
El Nino has not been good to us, giving us many
cloudy days and high winds, both bad for
navigating in reef infested waters. But we were
able to spend a number of days ashore in small
villages, and the genuine hospitality of the
people made up for the weather. I'll try and give
you a taste for both the tramas of sailing shoal
reefy waters in poor weather, and the wonderful
villages and people we were privileged to
experience. First the blood and guts in this
edition, then the people and the land in another
in a few days.
I must apologize for not answering some of you.
You would not believe how slow the internet is
here. I just answered Lew Hatfield so he could
pass on our whereabouts, and it took 15 minutes!
So bear with me. If it's really important I'll
answer, somehow!
Saturday July 27.
Anchor drama number one: Navadra Island. A small
uninhabited island. We chose a north facing bay
with a reef at the entrance and ringing the
beach. Because of a steep drop off, we anchored
close to the shore reef in order to get enough
scope (the ratio between the depth of water and
the anchor rode-higher the better)Wind began
building from the north and before long her stern
was in 3 to 4 metres of water and two metre waves
were breaking under the stern. The hook (anchor)
was holding but should it fail, we would be on
the reef in less than a minute; no time to do
anything. We motored deeper into the bay and
dropped anchor again with all our rode. We set
anchor watches for all night. At 2000 hours (7pm)
a heavy rain squall blew directly into the bay
with winds to 40 knots and 10 metres of
visibility. I was on deck soaped up and having a
bracing shower when the full force hit. I felt
like I was going to be washed overboard by the
wind and rain, but got a squeaky clean rinse.
A lightning strike nearby knocked out our
instruments, including our wind speed and
direction indicator and depth finder. We were
blind except for our GPS and compass. We turned
on the lights so Neville could see the direction
the rode was stretching out in front of the boat
and motored against the wind to take some stress
out of the anchor. If the anchor had not held we
would have been on the reef in two or three
minutes. We were not too worried for our personal
safety, maybe a broken bone or two and lots or
coral cuts, but we would have made it ashore, and
the yacht Chelsea was nearby with a very skilled
American captain, Gary, capable of effecting a
rescue, or calling for help.
Sunday July 28.
Anchoring drama number two: We made a few
mistakes and almost lost Songlines. We sailed to
Waya Island and into the bay. We felt our way
around for an anchorage shown on our (ancient)
chart. We motored into a hole behind a visible
rock into the sun, and dropped anchor. Just as
the anchor chain was clattering down, Claire saw
them; bombies, coral heads sticking near the
surface where Songlines was about to swing over.
Crunching sounds followed, awful sounds, scary
sounds. Lots of yelling ensued and somehow the
anchor got raised, breaking or dislocating my
right index finger (somewhat recovering, I can
type, just not raise the anchor yet) in the
process. We found a more conservative anchorage
further out and Neville took a swim to inspect
the damage, which was limited to mostly lost
paint and a bit of epoxy in non essential
locations. The starboard rudder had to be
re-rigged to kick up again, before we could go
anywhere. We were lucky. Again, no personal
danger, the beach was nearby and friendly
villagers, who had tried to wave us off, too late
were nearby. Never sail into the sun in coral
waters! Never go into a place without plenty of
room to get out quickly, and never drop the
anchor until the swing is known. There is always
something to learn in these waters.
Thursday August 1.
We moved from one bad anchorage to a worse one.
When we tried to raise the anchor this morning,
it was fouled. I got into the skiff and, hanging
over the side with snorkel mask was able to tell
Neville how to manouver Songlines to untangle the
rode from around an anvil shaped coral bommie. I
was ready to dive to 8 metres if necessary, but
was glad I didn't have to; my ears hurt badly at
about 6 or 7 metres depth.
Saturday August 3.
Anatomy of an anchor watch:
We are anchored just off the reef at Nanuyabalavu
Island. I have the first anchor watch, 2000 hours
to 2300 hours. A strong SE wind gusts to 25 as it
rips through the pass. The hook is well set and
with a bridle set from both bows to the rode,
Songlines doesn't swing very much. Before dark I
took bearings on several points and checked the
regularly until darkness and clouds obscured
them. It's black as a well diggers armpit. All I
have to rely on is a vague fuzz of gray reef
breakers, their sound, and thank you U.S.
government, GPS coordinates taken as soon as the
anchor was set. The responsibility for this
yacht, valued at more than most peoples houses,
lies completely with me for the next three hours,
and Claire the following three. All of this hangs
on one 60 pound anchor, 18 metres of chain and 15
metres or so of nylon line. The wind roars in the
rigging, sheets (sail control lines) go airborne
and slam hard down on the saloon roof just over
my head. The wind changes pitch and timbre as it
goes from 25 knots to 5 knots and back again. The
waves grow and Songlines begins to roll and pitch
enough to make me consider using a hand for the
boat, unusual on anchorage. I go to the cockpit
and run the diesel for a few minutes to assure it
will start quickly in an emergency. After I turn
it off and there is relative silence again, I
take a few minutes to listen to and feel the boat
under me better, to check the bridle from the bow
and listen to the surf and wind. All these things
feed into my mental computer and are checked for
that funny feeling that tells me something is
wrong. All seems well. Nothing jogs my terror
button, this time. A check of the GPS shows the
coordinates spot on. The wind has picked up
again. It sounds as if a clumsy horse is grazing
on the saloon top and the Big Bad Wolf is trying
to blow my house down, onto the reef. 2300 hours
I went to the aft deck where we keep the dingy
tied by its painter (bow line), to answer the
call of nature, one of the unique pleasures of
wilderness travel. The Milky Way is specky
tonight, putting one a show of brightness,
anchored in the south by the Southern Cross. A
high pressure area to the south is bringing fresh
dry and cool winds from the southern ocean where
it really is winter. The mountains of surrounding
islands are becoming visible in the starlight.
The islands are charcoal, the sea slate blue and
the sky pale blue with shimmering stars. Oh yes.
I guess it is all worth it after all.
I heard Neville tell another yachtie a several
days, and a few more near dramas later, that in
25 years of cruising the South Pacific, he has
never had such difficulties with coral and
anchorages. We take regular compass bearings from
headlands, islands and even far away peaks, and
check them against GPS positions. They have
varried from 2 to 4 cables (tenths of nautical
mile) off to the west and a bit south. We are
comparing these, perfect earth spheroid readings,
with our 1973 charts, and they vary greatly. They
also don't show nearly all the reef. One day we
were motorsailing in 60 metres of water, in a
known channel, and within a few boat lengths,
went to 4 and 4 metres! Talk about freaking out.
Now we back all GPS positions up with coastal
navigation techniques.
Saturday August 17.
Another bad bad anchorage: During the night the
wind turned and hardened. By 0700 hours the winds
were gusting to 25 knots and the short steep seas
breaking not far behind Songlines. By 0730 the
two other boats in the anchorage motored out. by
the time winds reached 30 knots, Songlines was
pitching badly, coming up hard on the anchor
rode. The reef, as always just behind us,
waiting. We prepared the mainsail, tidied up the
decks and prepared the boat as winds continued to
climb and gust. I had to steer while Neville
brought up the anchor and Claire relayed
directions from him. It was a first for me and in
a very difficult situation: I motored toward the
anchor, then when the anchor came off the bottom,
Songlines began to fall off the wind and this was
the dangerous part; if she got sideways to the
wind, I would not be able to get her back into
the wind with all the power available. When the
anchor lifted off, I could feel the bows begin to
turn. I applied half power, and for several long
seconds it appeared she would continue to fall
off. I could feel the reef break in my back and
hear it calling Songlines! She continued to fall
away and I had to make a decision to apply full
power, which was all the cards I had to play, or
to put the engine in neutral, allowing Songlines
to drift back, while I turned the stern drive to
give the rudders help in turning, and then get
the power back on. I decided the latter, and
fortunately the Stern drive turned as it was
supposed to, I got it back in gear and we pulled
straight into the wind again with not quite full
power. Gulp. Claire said Neville was looking
white on the bow. I was glad to turn the helm
back to him to get us out of the bay.
We had to tack under power several times to get
out of the bay and into open water with ringing
reef all around. Once outside it was difficult
getting up the main to third reef in the steep
confused seas, but we managed and motorsailed
close hauled in winds to 40 knots a fallback
anchorage. Once outside, Neville let me take the
wheel, and the concern of escaping the bay
changed to elation as Songlines seemed to leap
off the crests of waves, but always somehow land
sweetly with a calm wheel. The skipper and I
might not always agree on some things, but I
think he has designed and built a work of art for
traveling the seas. She sails like a dream, and
takes good care of her human passengers.
Now we are back in Lautoka for a few days
provisioning for the 700 or so nautical mile
crossing to New Caledonia. I hope to get you
another one of these, this time about the people
of Fiji, and their remote villages before we
leave. Then the next one from New Caledonia will
be in French! Not likely.
Bob
Thursday, August 08, 2002 at 20:12:02 (EDT)
From: Charlotte Crouch Atkinson
email: charlottea@citynet.net
Web Page: sahs62.org
Ravenswood, WV USA
Message:
I have enjoyed reading the information on the web site about my 1962 classmates. Although I don't often see friends from the Class of 62, it's nice to know what they're up to these days through the web site. Thanks, Doug for suppling this for us. I have been married to Kenneth Atkinson since 1963. We lived in St. Albans until 1974 when we moved to Ravenswood. We have two children. Lisa is married to Joe Casto and they have two sons, Caleb, 7, and Jacob, 6. They live in Ripley and we see them quite often. Our son, Steven, is married to Leslie Mori and they live in Gaithersburg, MD. They have our only granddaughter, Megan, 3. They are expecting their second child in October. Kenneth opted for early retirement in December 2000. I worked until last November. I worked as bookkeeper for the Jackson Star News for 14 years. I'm looking forward to the reunion and seeing old friends.
Charlotte Crouch Atkinson
Thursday, August 08, 2002 at 13:06:54 (EDT)
From: Myra Cousins Woolwine
email: myluw@hotmail.com
So Chas, WV USA
Message:
Thanks for the memories, Doug. It's great. Just a little catch up, I have stayed right here in the valley and am currently (for nineteen years) a supervisor for the Loan Department at Consolidated Public Retirement Board. I am active in my church, St. Paul United Methodist is Spring Hill. I have one son, Erik, and one grandson. I'm looking forward to seeing lots of old (young) friends at our reunion.
Tuesday, August 06, 2002 at 11:35:49 (EDT)
From: Ann Moran McFadden
email: ann3220@aol.com
St. Charles, Mo. USA
Message:
Doug, Thanks so much for the great web site. This is such a great thing that you have done for your class members and I can tell you how much I have enjoyed looking at it frequently. Will be looking forward to seeing you and all of my class in just a few days. Again many, many thanks. Ann
Sunday, July 21, 2002 at 21:47:36 (EDT)
From: Bob Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
Fiji
Message:
Saturday 20.
After a few exciting days and a couple of dull
days, Songlines and crew arrived Fiji relatively
unscathed on Thursday 18, July. The approximate
1600 nautical mile passage took 9.5 days, several
quicker than first thought, due to mostly
favorable, and stronger winds than expected. We
are anchored at Lautoka satisfying Fiji paperwork
to visit outer islands, resting and provisioning
for another two to three weeks cruising here.
July 8, 1158 hours, we sailed past Burnette heads
near Bundaberg, Queensland, Australia, feeling
the first swells of the Pacific, bound for Fiji.
We busied ourselves with sails and navigation
tools, with an occasional glance toward a
diminishing Australia. At the 1600 hours log
posting, I noticed that Australia had sailed away
from us over the western horizon, leaving us
afloat on a darkening choppy sea, and a golden
light, as the sun followed. At 1800 hours we left
the last Great Barrier Reef light to starboard
and went on a port tack to keep us away from the
beaches of Musgrave Island. Once past the reef,
the seas picked up. Claire said Songlines was
making scary noises below as waves slapped hull
and bridgedeck with a resounding noise and
vibration. Everyone was a bit crook with
seasickness, Claire the worst.
July 10. Winds rising to force 5-6 from the SSW
by 8 bells, 1200 hours (noon). We took two reefs
in the main at 1400 hours and a third of the jib
(headsail) at 1600 hours in anticipation of a
rough night. A wise decision. Later Claire is
seasick and shaking from the constant pounding.
There is nothing I can do. I'm a bit crook too,
and trying to do my part by watching for ships in
the dark. I am confident in Songlines, but the
irregular splashing, pounding, banging of waves,
the lurching, tilting, sudden motions, the
constant hissing and slapping, the accelerating,
and decelerating and the whorling of the wind
generator and howling of the rigging, are
completely new to us, and a challenge. We know
how to face the unfamiliar, but it takes a bit of
time sometimes!
Thursday July 11. Four flying fish on board this
morning. Neville (skipper) filleted them and they
were the first course at brekky. Not Claire
though, she hasn't eaten in nearly two days now
and sleeps mostly.We had force 7 winds all night
with a rough sea state, very short steep breaking
waves of about 7 metres. Graveyard watch, triple
reefed both sails, Neville hit 18 knots. I was on
with him and it was indeed exciting and Songlines
even seemed to quiet at that speed. She showed no
tendency to broach or bury her hulls. One hour we
averaged 16 knots. Waves regularly splashed over
the 2.5 metre or better high bridge deck,
sometimes catching us in the face, since we have
to look around the windscreen to see ships
lights. All this time, Neville was in his
element, hand steering and loudly singing sea
chanties. I like this part.
After Claire had another bout of shaking the next
afternoon, Neville decided to hove-to (back the
jib and lash the rudder to ride the waves beam
on) for the night. He was knackered too, and with
only one on to a shift we all got an uninterupted
6 or 8 hours of sleep for the first time in five
days of doing watches of three on and three off.
We had a good breakky and set off for Fiji again,
having lost 12 hours and 16 miles. Claire is much
better and can eat a bit. She feels better after
seeing it is the speed more than the seas making
things so noisy and rough. The wind stayed high
for the third day.
July 13. Saturday. 0500 and the sea feels
friendly to me for the first time. The chaos of
waves seems to be more organized, but Neville
says it is just my getting accusomed to the sea.
A sea bird visits, perhaps a gannet or booby.
There are few it seems, and no dolphins, which
Neville remembers seeing almost daily in other
Pacific voyages. So far we have been able to hold
a course following Latitude 25 degrees south
which will get us past the reefs south of New
Caledonia, and allow us to make Fiji without
tacking south.
In the afternoon Neville gives me the wheel for
the second time, the first being in a calm spell
one day. After Neville goes to his bunk, the
winds rise to force 7 and the seas follow to 6-7
metres. With the wind aft, Songlines handles this
like a fresh breeze. We are hitting 12 knots in a
30 knot wind and the following seas at a 45
degree angle. She surfs in the gusts, but it
seems as easy to keep her pointed as it does our
16 foot kayak. The wheel goes from light to
heavy, and I learn to use this to feel the waves,
that and the wind on the back of my head and the
tilt of the deck under my feet. Three hours goes
with me smiling like an idiot and not wanting to
give up the wheel. My watch is late in the day.
Mountains of shattered blue obsidian flow off to
the horizon, turned a bit rose in the west by the
departed sun. Snow capped and forever moving,
these liquid mountains dance away to far horizons
of puffy trade wind clouds, pink and rose and
powder blue. Closer, the mountains overtake our
little island Songlines, tossing, hissing with
foam on the crests, wind streaming spume down the
face from time to time. It is a beautiful moment
felt in all my being, to be remembered for a long
time.
Neville tells me later that the wind coming from
astern at 12 knots equals well over 40 knots of
true wind. Glad I didn't understand that sooner.
The maximum wave height has been around 8 metres,
or 25 feet. It is sort of like standing beside a
two story building plus roof, with it weighing a
hundred times more than a house and being
absolutely sure it is going to fall on you. It
doesn't. But, the elevator goes up in three
seconds, pauses briefly on the roof where it
leaves your stomach, and where you can catch a
glimpse of the true horizon. Then the elevator
goes down and stops suddenly in the trough and
your stomach catches up in three seconds. No
wonder we have been seasick. Claire's seasickness
is gone after six days and she is beginning to
enjoy herself. I've been fine for a couple of
days, with only an extended stay in the galley
for cooking or washing dishes.
July 15. Monday. One week out. Calming during the
night and warming as we cross 22 degrees south,
now well and truly headed for Fiji. The seas have
flattened to a rippled gentle swell. We were all
able to get a shower for the first time, too busy
and the deck heaving too much. Claire and I even
got a bit of a nap together. Not being to snuggle
every 24 hours is worse for us than the sleep
deprivation. The clouds become more puffy at this
latitude, more tropical. Neville calls them
tradewind clouds. As the sun begins to sink
toward the western horizon the color of the
clouds are first cream, peach, biege and a middle
to dark bluish gray with a pale blue sky
overhead. The peach begins to turn orange at 1700
hours and the biege to pink, the gray also warms.
Gray cloud bottoms billow into orange cream ice
cream cone scoops. Later a thin line of brilliant
lenticular orange awaits the sun hidden behind a
cloud above. Then the sun suddenly drops into the
sea in one brilliant flash of the dying day. The
blue gray clouds are now washed in pink, growing
toward us to almost overhead. A final diminished
line of red silhouettes streams of rain showers
under the clouds and the long night watches
begins.
Night watch:
Seven bells, 3:30am. S21 degrees 24.19 minutes, E
171 degrees, 1.2 minutes; course 31 degrees true,
speed 10.2 knots; 1205 miles from Bundaberg and
approximately 450 from Fiji. Each hour I make a
log entry like the above. We mark our position on
the chart four times each 24 hours. This is the
graveyard watch, 0200-0500, black on black
strangest hour of our sleep deprived world. The
southern cross has fallen through the tropical
haze into the flat black sea. A metior burns in
and snuffs out at 30 degrees magnetic, just under
the Seven Sisters. Triangular sails and mast,
faintly lit from saloon windows invade the star
dome and accentuate it. I can see why the
ancients saw the night sky as a domed ceiling and
danced their gods, heros, heroines and fearful
beasts there. It still feels that way to my
emotions, even though my intellect knows about
pulsars, quasars and billions and billions of
light years. That dome, containing an itty bitty
bit of known stars still inspires. It is still,
at the somewhat ripened age of 58, a stage upon
which to dream. Earlier star dreamings brought me
to this exotic remote place, yet again, so why
stop star dreaming now. Another meteor slices in
at 0 degrees (north) leaves a faint trail of
luminous stardust. Just now the galley timer in
my pocket reminds me to lower my gaze and scan
the 360 degrees of the horizon for ships lights.
This is the reason we stay awake these hours when
the winds are mild, collision safety. The steady
tradewinds could fill the sails all night, and
the autopilot would keep Songlines happily on a
course for Fiji, but ships watches are suspect,
and their speed could have them upon us in
minutes. We keep the VHF radio tuned to Channel
16 which is universally monitored. If need be we
can call a ship, identify ourselves as a sailing
ship, give our coordinates and request a course
change. It has been seven days since we saw a
ship, so it gets hard to keep the discipline,
thus the egg timer.
July 18. Thursday. Fiji arrival day. The fat lady
had to sing one last time last night. We got 30
know winds on the nose, a very difficult sail
angle, causing much banging and necesitating hand
steering again. While we were well out of sight
of land, I sensed a change in the scent of the
air. The flat salt smell was modified in some
subtle way to something more neutral, with more
weight to it. Later I smelled a sweet spicy
smoke, probably the burning of cane fields.
Morning as we motored into the lagoon, I could
smell the scent of green growing things, and
later the unmistakable smell of wet earth. Back
to land again.
We are anchored off the port of Lautoka, spending
our days in the town, soaking up the cultures of
Fijians and the Indians brought here by the
British to work the cane fields. You probably
remember hearing in the news about the violence a
year or so ago. There is still tension between
the races, but it seems to have calmed down
considerably and there is no danger. We feel
safe. Wish I had time to share the wonderful
third world city that this is, but I am about out
of time, and stamina for this posting. We will be
lagoon sailing in the outer islands for a couple
of weeks at least. Don't know when you will hear
from us, but the hard part is over, until the
next passage!
all the best,
Bob Rogers
Saturday, July 13, 2002 at 22:19:54 (EDT)
From: Cynthia Thomas Sanson
email: cps421@aol.com
Web Page: sahs1962.org
St. Albans, WV USA
Message:
Doug, Thanks for the enjoyment we have had out of your web page.
I still live in St. Albans and I guess I always will. I am still married to Bill Sanson, 39 years, mercy I'm a good woman. Well it hasn't been all that bad I guess. I am looking forward to seeing a lot of you at the reunion. We have one daughter, living in Mo., her husband is a life long Air Force man. We have traveled everywhere to visit them. Italy was our longest trip, but enjoyable. Bill has had 6 bypass surgery but is doing great with the help of God. We have been blessed. Well as I say I hope to meet a few old friends in August. Cynthia
Saturday, July 06, 2002 at 07:14:50 (EDT)
From: Bob Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
Pacific Ocean
Message:
Casting off for Fiji
Hello all,
The good news is that Songlines is shipshape for
the big ocean. The bad news is that my computer
floppy drive went crook, and the two weeks of
description I was ready to send you is stuck on
the hard drive until we get home.
Here's a brief update:
Carol Sloan and Dan Williams picked us up at the
airport June 13. We stayed with them near
Brisbane for a few days and helped them turn over
the first hull of the catamaran they are
building. Then spent a few days doing the tourist
thing in beautiful Brisbane before taking the
high speed tilt train to Bundaberg where
Songlines skipper Neville picked us up. His 30
year partner, Cass and dog Ruby took us in as
family and we have all been working to ready
Songlines for ocean travel. We sailed her to a
beach on the Elliot river where we dried her out
to scrub the bottom and do heaps of other little
and not so little jobs for several days. We have
been living on Songlines for over a week now and
getting to know all her systems. Now we are at
the marina in Bundaberg finishing up final bits
and provisioning for up to four months most of it
at sea or remote anchorages. We set sail for
Fiji, winds permitting, on Monday July 9.
We have a fourth to Fiji, Greg who is Cass'
brother-in-law who helped Cass and Neville build
Songlines and has had several cruises on her.
I'd love to have the time to describe the
sunsets, the tropical birds, the work, Neville,
Greg, Cass..., but alas there is still work to do
and I don't have the time to spend in the local
internet cafe. You know, time and tide wait for
no man...
After two short sails, we feel Songlines to be as
sound as she is beautiful,and we are excited to
be heading offshore to Fiji, 1800 or so nautical
miles (1nm=1.15 statute miles) to the northeast.
Due to the south easterly tradewinds, we will be
bearing off towards New Zealand for a few days so
we won't be pounding close-hauled all the way to
Fiji. Having experienced a bit of windward
sailing, and a beam reach, we'd just as soon not
sail that far with the wind on the nose.
We will email you from Fiji in a fortnight, give
or take a few days.
We can hear you saying bon voyage from here!
all the best,
Bob and Claire
Saturday, June 29, 2002 at 04:25:40 (EDT)
From: Susan Dunn DeVoge
email: DSdevoge@aol.com
Reno, Nv. USA
Message:
Hey you all: Doug - thanks so much for the work that went into this.It is great! I have been here in Reno for 30 years now.I finished my Ph.D in psychology at U.N.C. Chapel Hill and moved here and taught at U.of Nevada, Reno for about 8 years.Then I went in to private practice where I have been for the past 22 years.My daughters are 24 and 22 and just about to graduate college, thank god.I am married to a psychiatrist who is from Hawaii (he is not native Hawaiian though) and he has 4 kids, so there are already 5 grandkids.We just got back from there to visit.My sister Debby lives in Paris,,France as she married a Frenchman, so I try to see her every few years but it is tough getting there.I have been lucky enough to get to travel a bit, and I brought my girls to W.Va. for the first time last summer.They thought it was so beautiful.Am really looking forward to seeing you all.Anybody ever hear anything from Jimmy Wilkerson? He never seems to call and has no address.See you soon! Susie
Monday, June 24, 2002 at 12:18:00 (EDT)
From: Larry Truman
email: hillbilly45@earthlink.net
Upland, CA USA
Message:
Larry is a Production Superintendent with Criterion Catalyst in Azusa, California.
This company manufactures multiple catalyst products which are used in the refining of crude oil.
Wednesday, June 19, 2002 at 07:31:53 (EDT)
From: Bob Rogers
email: brogers644@yahoo.com
Brisbane, Australia
Message:
Hello from Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.
We are enjoying this, perhaps most beautiful city
in Australia, and getting ready to go to
Bundaberg where we will help Neville provision
Songlines for our voyage.
We will try and write more before we leave in a
week or two.
all the best,
Bob and Claire
Monday, June 17, 2002 at 07:36:48 (EDT)
From: Debbie Moran Ketchum
email: dsmoran@bellsouth.net
FL USA
Message:
Doug,
I found this song when looking thru some of my old pictures. Thought you might like to have a copy. I remember singing this when I was in Chorus.
Moments to Remember - Words by Steve Jones & Pat McBrayer
The Winter Whirl, we did the town,
The day we broke the Field-house ground.
We will have these moments to remember.
The quiet walks, The noisy fun,
The championship we almost won,
We will have these moments to remember.
Though we are getting older and our childhood days are done,
The memories we all have will not perish but go on.
Though other nights and other days,
Will find us gone out separate ways,
We will have these moments to remember.
Second Verse
The day our Cage Team hit its peak,
The game when we broke East Banks streak.
We will have these moments to remember.
The OPUS nights with all their fun,
The night our school days will be done,
We will have these moments to remember.
Though summer turns to winter and the present disappears.
The laughter we were glad to share will echo through the years.
Though other nights and other days,
Will find us gone out separate ways,
We will have these moments to remember.
Saturday, June 15, 2002 at 13:09:44 (EDT)
From: Carol Knight
email: carolfrog_1999@yahoo.com
Middletown, Oh USA
Message:
Doug, this is a great gift to the Class of 1962. I have really enjoyed looking at all the pictures. I look forward to seeing everyone at the 40 year class reunion. I am wondering if anyone has the class picture from the 10 year reunion? I am alive and well in Middletown, Ohio. By the way I graduated from the University of Cincinnati in Criminal Justice and Corrections, not Nursing although that major I was first enrolled.
Thursday, May 30, 2002 at 14:44:23 (EDT)
From: Cheryl Humphreys Emich
email: cheryl.emich@charter.net
TX USA
Message:
40 years???
I moved to Texas 2 years ago when my youngest son, Matt, needed my husband, Randy's, help with his business, which was growing so rapidly he needed people he could trust in key positions. At least that's why I thought we were coming here, God knew a better reason- Maddy. People have often remarked that it seemed odd, we moved here just when my son was going to need me the most. I have learned there are very few "accidents" in life. God has a plan. We just need to let him do his work. My daughters, living in Florida, were not really pleased with our decision to move but are glad I'm where I'm needed most . Jeana, 40, sent me a picture of her with her daughter Lindsay Jeanne, 17, who is graduating from high school today. That picture is a great example of what has transpired in the last 40 years, a whole new generation! Lindsay is going to college on a full scholarship for playing softball {she has the highest batting average in FL}. Jeana also has a son, Jacob,13. Jenny, who also lives in FL has 5 children. Jeness, her oldest daughter just finished her first year of college on a cheerleading scholarship. Her second daughter is Jami, then Jesse -her only son is 14, Jacklyn is 12 and Jillian is 9. My youngest daughter Melinda is 31 and has 3 children. Jerrica is 14, Sydney is 12 and Lucas is 10. They all live in Maryland . John , my oldest son, 36, has two daughters, Casey 14 and Willie 12. who live here in Texas too and of course Matt my youngest son has two children, Cole 7 and Madison 5. These are my greatest accomplishments, they are all good, responsible, caring and compassionate loving people, despite being raised by a single parent. We kind of grew up together, I tell them our problem was that we didn't have any adult supervision growing up. I retired from working for 20 years in dentistry. And now I enjoy being a homemaker. My time is filled with quilting, sewing, gardening and my grandchildren [all 14 of them]. I try to go home to St. Albans every summer and I would love to hear from any of my classmates. Thanks to all of you who continue to pray for our little Maddy.
Cheryl
Wednesday, May 29, 2002 at 12:47:55 (EDT)
From: Mitch
email: Jmitch8065@aol.com
USA
Message:
Doug, your website is great.
I have been working on our reunions for forty years, sometimes with the help of only one or two people, trying to make enough money to pay for expenses by selling tshirts, running tipboards, and asking for donations. We somehow pulled them off and everyone had a great time.
Now, after forty years, it does my heart good to see people getting on board and keeping the tradition going like yourself. This has always been a dream of mine but I had never had the time or computer knowledge to do it.
Just wanted to say thanks for your time and effort.
Mitch
Wednesday, May 29, 2002 at 07:34:20 (EDT)
From: Sue Hager Thompson
email: Thompsonsuee@aol.com
USA
Message:
Thank you Doug,
Enjoyed your website very much.
What a great idea...thanks for sharing the memories with me!
I was in the class of '63. Lived across the road from Marsha Racer and next door to Gary McConihay.
Where has the time gone...I have no clue.
I truly appreciate your website. Thanks again...will put this in favorites & keep forever.
Sue Hager (Thompson)
Saturday, May 04, 2002 at 13:21:21 (EDT)
From: Kathryn Miller Coughlin
email: kathryncoughlin@aol.com
Houston, TX USA
Message:
Doesn't seem like 40 years. I have not seen but 2 or 3 in those 40
years, even though I worked in Charleston for The Associated Press,
and the Huntington Police Department, until 1972; moved to Roanoke, VA
married and then Myrtle Beach, then Palm Beach FL and raised two(now
24 and 22 girls). God blessed me many times over. Divorced Dec 31,87.
and moved to Houston TX and remarried Feb 14, 2000. Many things
between 87 and 99, such as being a Fugitive wanted for extradition
to FL for being a Mother. Won that with both FL and TX governors.
Met and married a wonderful man, Tom Coughlin, and am very happy.
Can't wait to see everyone. Am, above all, a believer in Jesus
Christ, since childhood, and am anxiously awaiting the Second
Advent. God bless all and God bless America.
Kathryn Miller Coughlin
Sunday, April 21, 2002 at 23:12:10 (EDT)
From: Jim Sypolt
email: jsypolt@bellsouth.net
Web Page: members.tripod.com/jimsypolt/index.html
Port St. Lucie, FL USA
Message:
Hi guys! I'm not of your 1962 graduating class, but I was supposed to be. So, I stuck around for another year. Shuck! You don't think, I wanted to graduate, and have to leave all those pretty girls, do ya? That's about as good an excuse as I can give. But, it was really English Lit. that did me in.
But, I remember you guys and wanted to put my two cents worth in, since it was you that I spent most of my class times with. I was too busy catching up with 3 English Lit. classes to get to know the folks in the 63 class.
Tuesday, April 02, 2002 at 19:09:54 (EST)
From: Nancy Perkins
email: dunnnancyj@earthlink.net
Texas USA
Message:
Class of 1956 Touch Base
Good idea of setting up this web page...wish we had more interest in general. Those of us who have lived away from our school friends would like to see more. Can you imagine - out of school for 46 years. WOW and I heard my mom say she was going to her 50th I thought I'd never see me doing that!!
Hope to hear from some of our classmates. I live in Texas
Thursday, March 28, 2002 at 09:18:23 (EST)
From: David H.Shortt
email: davidshortt@cnpapers.com
Scott Depot, WV USA
Message:
Looking forward to the reunion and seeing all my friends, I am the Supervisor of the Creative Services Department (Art Department) for Charleston Newspapers, Gazette, Daily Mail, Sunday Gazette-Mail. Yes I still draw but mostly with computers now, still do pen and ink, watercolors. I am a Commercial Hot Air Balloon Pilot and have competed Nationally and Inter-Nationally in Balloon events. I am Married to Caroleigh who is the News director for WQBE radio in Charleston, I have 4 sons aged 28, 26, 18, 16.. with the youngest still at home, We live in Scott Depot. Drop me an E-mail sometime either at work at davidshortt@cnpapers.com or at home at hotballon@aol.com. I had a bad accident 2 years ago when I fell down my basement steps and hit my head, was in a coma for almost 2 months and have had 6 brain operations and one more scheduled sometime this fall..doing fine now still get a little confused about things but who knows if it was the fall or the wild 60 & 70's LOL...
Wednesday, March 27, 2002 at 18:23:17 (EST)
From: Rick Norris
email: ricjan@earth1.net
Web Page: www.earth1.net/~ricjan/
Hurricane, WV USA
Message:
HOLY CRAP Batman! Has it been 40 freakin years since a 15 year old zit faced kid moved from Clarksburg to St. Albans and walked into that huge gym not knowing a soul and sat down beside Gene Strother with whom I had attended grade school in Clarksburg? I have enough fingers to do the math and damned if it hasn't been that long.
Also on that same day I met two more people who became my friends. Bruce Pauley and Leo Ryder. Leo passed away and I have lost contact with Bruce. Anyone know where he is?
At this stage in my life I am very satisfied with myself and my life. I'm reasonably healthy, have a great wife and four grandkids with the potential for more. I am still a car nut. There are a few of us old hot rodders out there that never lost the bug. Bill Fortune and Richard Milam come to mind.
If you look in your 62 year book under my picture it says, "wants to be a draftsman". Well, It's been a long time but I are one still. No more paper as we draw on a computer but I still love doing it. I am employed by Augusta Engineering in So. Chas. and live in Teays Valley with my wife Janet and my Corvairs.
See ya at the reunion.
Wednesday, March 27, 2002 at 16:24:00 (EST)
From: Tom Hurley
email: uncledonald@att.net
Parkersburg, WV USA
Message:
I've been in Parkersburg ever since graduating from Cincinnati in 1968. I married charlotte Stoops, from Aliquippa, PA in 1969, and we have 2 kids. Patrick graduates from WVU medical school in May and will be at Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh next year as an intern, then on to Indiana University in Indianapolis for several years of residency in Radiology. Our daughter Katy is in the 7th grade at Parkersburg Catholic High School.
I've worked at the same plant, in Sistersville, for 26 years. It was first Union Carbide Silicones, then OSI Specialties, then Witco, now Cromptom.
I've spent some time at our plant in Italy. For a year in 1985, then 2 months in 1997. I've been over a couple of time since, for shorter periods.
I had a heart attck at Cedar Point Amusement Park last Father's Day, which left me with a triple by-pass, courtesy of the Cleveland Clinic.
I haven't decided whether to come to the 40 year reunion yet. Most of my pals never come.
Tom
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