No Backpack, just Bags

Dragging two 49.9 lb. pieces of luggage (50 lbs. is the limit) plus a
25+ lb. carry on and a stuffed full hand bag on the sidewalks, on the
bus, on the ferry, back on the bus and up the sidewalk, gives one
respect for those who must always move this slowly and painfully.
Ramps good. My one bag almost crushed a few bus passengers' feet when
tumbling over on a surprise sharp corner turn. I have got to get
these bags safely to Moorea, this is not a backpacking trip.

On the long omnibus bus ride through south Seattle a friendly big
black lady and I had a long discussion on the various things you could
do with old jet planes, i.e. put them high up on big tall poles with
hydraulics controlled by the steering wheel to simulate actual
movement through the air (for Dick Cheney), flip them over put up
masts and sails and call them boats, cut off the wings and use for
windmill generators. All of our billionaire friends will probably
have some sort of old jet as a guest house or Wyoming getaway,
restaurants, schools, oh all sorts of things, get in line.

Seatac is big and well car cultured, although I found a great little
hole in the wall Japanese restaurant just north of the Hilton hotel on
Aurora, inexpensive, wooden interior, mostly Japanese customers.
Plane leave later this morning, over water and more water, oh, I'd say
about half way between South America and Australia and Hawaii and
Antarctica. During this time my family will probably be the most
split up it has ever been, Sweden, San Diego, L.A., P.T., and Papeete,
one each, yet at the same time in pretty good cyber contact.

The Travelling Energy

Dang it, I can't figure out why this photo keeps coming in sideways, oh well, it looks right on my photo viewer. Atop Waynapicchu, why in the heck did the Incas build such a big place that is so hard to reach? The guys doing the heavy stone work eventually let the Spanish "free" them. So many mysteries to uncover!!! (If anyone can help me with this photo rotating one please do, I have tried all of the regular tricks.)












Jet airplanes and human bodies both need light, a.m.a.p. (as much as possible). One finds it in the strangest places, usually simpler to find than expected, don't look too hard.

Seattle Bus Day

Bill and Mindys new non-habitat behind, or now in front, of their property on 22nd Street in Port Townsend. This is our local version of the coral reefs being inundated. Well, I guess the cliffs falling down up at North Beach would be some of that too. Our property on 53rd Street is soon to be view property (in more ways than one), will there still be islands to look at up north of us?

Notice the stack of trees, the developers grab these as quick as possible with their big log trucks, before the owners realize they were even theirs. The real experts rip the root stumps out too right away to remove all memory as quickly as possible.








Dana taking care of his 6 meter, putting his bundle of energy to work on another boat. I think he plans on sailing his whole fleet, including river houseboats, down to Moorea as soon as I find a good anchorage.

Testing the system: Email entries by me

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Bilito

--
William H. Dentzel
843 53rd Street
Port Townsend WA 98368
email: bilito@gmail.com
website: http://www.dentzel.com

Day Before (leaving PT for Seattle)

Skys are gray but warm, precipitation was evident the past couple of days, here at headquarters in Port Townsend.

My friends Bill and Mindy are drying off from the cold cold shower the bulldozer guys just gave them in their back yard, in the name of Habitat for Humanity. Unfortunately that doesn't include birds and deer, they are all wandering around looking for their nests as the diesel engines roar in the background. My friends Doug and Nancy are hosting a meeting at their home to up date local citizens on the Navy's latest efforts to candycoat their weapons handling and nuclear safety issues at Indian Island Navel Ordinance Depot just across the little bay from our town.

My oldest child is simultaniously selling his interest in one internet company while creating interest in another (social network, yeah!) all down in little old LA. My daughter Sophia is riding her bike, riding the train, or riding a magic carpet somewhere in Southern California on her work/vacation before moving to NYC. Bad/Good Boy Noah is off educating himself in Sweden and elsewhere as a continuation of his unfinished romp of 2004. Wife Penny is nursing our dear dog Francis with his swollen head (kitty Lucy is fine).

Sister Barbara is working on her house in Mexico, Brother David is working on his house in Spain, Brother Chris is working on other people's houses in SB and elsewhere. The grand mom of us all is perched on the beautiful ridge of SB overlooking the safe spot we all keep in our minds.

It is in the midst of all of this that I find myself helping out cher amis Barbara and Claude who have recently bought a place on the island of Moorea. I am an itinerant artist and carpenter, occasionally specializing in carousels and small sustainable hybrid housing. Saturday morning I fly to Honolulu, change planes and on to Papeete, Tahiti for one month.

Here is a photo from the website of the little hotel next to Barbara and Claude's land. http://www.lestipaniers.com/cadres21.htm