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Why

I watched as the big white gull hopped frantically around in the sandy beige rocks of the beachside jetty that runs along Coast Highway 1. Slowly I approached the obviously injured bird, not wanting to create any additional panic for it. As I peered at the damage, it tried to sequester itself deeper into the jetty shadows which grew blacker as the sun rapidly disappeared. Both it’s wings hung askew, broken at the shoulder hinge. Having raised birds, I knew what this meant. The animal was in shock. Maybe a car hit it. Not sure. But it was looking at

Hazardous Materials Basics

As everybody runs to pitch in at ground zero in the Gulf, I want you all to be aware that there are manifold issues related to working in and around high VOC environments. VOC is an acronym for Volatile Organic Compound. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volatile_organic_compound Levels of VOC’s vary greatly depending on atmospheric conditions and combinations of additional toxins, both natural and man made, which can have potentially serious long term effects. One thing people may not be aware of, is that your skin and your eyes are actually also very effective systems whereby toxics can enter the blood stream. If you get

Elephant Hunting

The last time I passed through customs, I was on my way home from Bali. No matter how wonderful the travel destination and experience, I always relish the return to American soil. There is something very comforting in speaking with a Customs Officer who I know is not going to charge me a tout (bribe paid as a form of tax, on something that should be free anyway) and who appreciates the price paid for the soil on which he stands, and protects. As I said my hellos and thank yous to the same guy whose line I had been

Fear Anger Hope

Fear, anger, hope. These three things are very inter-related and part of the process of progress. I find myself falling into fear, that entities which we have entrusted, like Government, Industry, and aspects of modern culture, such as certain Environmental PACS, have totally failed the Earth, as evidenced in the recent potential Global killer, that is the Platform Horizon Wellhead Blowout. The fear generated by this realization leads to an intense burning anger. That anger causes a hell of a lot of introspection of myself, what I stand for, and a VERY close look at the things I am able

Father

The word evokes a plethora of meanings. But as I sit at the monitor this Father’s Day, and ponder the men in my life, the one arch thought that precedes all, in the jumble of rapid fire synaptic responses that flash through my ADHD mind, is that “Father” is a verb, and denotes an ongoing actionable process. I am surrounded by a deep cadre of males in my life. Being a male is a fairly simple and basal thing. We pretty much chase females. That is our deal. The males in my life are there by choice. I have embraced

A Linchpin Sonnet

As my little ocean flavored world, rocked with continued news that only seemed to worsen, I watched and listened, as response from Government and Environmental groups created what amounted to an untenable clamor. Finger pointing, conflict, polarization, but no success, occurred in fixing the massive calamity of the Horizon well head blowout. Enviro groups squared off and did what they do: point fingers. Oil Execs circled wagons. Everyone calling for Justice. There was a hole in the Gulf seabed. The Ocean was dying. Then Seth’s note popped up, about creating a meeting of our peers. A Linchpin meeting. It was

ID Please

In marketing, one of the principal rules, is to identify the product in the eyes of the market. I am often introduced as a surf photographer. It is not that I eschew the title, which truly makes me die inside at the proffering of that description. Someone inevitably must endeavor to communicate what indeed it is, that one shoots. I do shoot surfing. I love the ocean. Surfing professionally was something that I was proud to have done for a substantial portion of my life, as it kept me IN the sea daily. But that is not what I am.

Jay Moriarty

Some people live in such a manner, that their exploits and attitudes define themselves, and become a part of History. It is fortunate to be around that type of person. You learn a lot. My fondest recollection of Jay Moriarty, is of him kick stalling in the barrel at Maverick’s, and smiling at me. A peculiar and unsettling memory, was getting a phone call informing me that he had died by drowning. I was driving South through Half Moon Bay, and looked up to see the Radar Tower at Pillar Point. The feeling of confusion I had felt when the

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