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May 2006
1st-Solidarity March
(Britt)Today, migrant workers and supporters across the nation gathered in their respective cities to march peacefully through the streets. The intention of the migrant worker’s rights march was to bring awareness to the work they do in the United States and to be recognized with rights afforded to those working to make a better life for all people living in the U.S.
Eric and I awoke at dawn to catch a ride into downtown New Orleans, where the march commenced. We arrived early and mingled with the smallish crowd of people carrying homemade banners saying “Si Se Puede!” (Yes, We Can), and “In New Orleans, it isn’t just chocolate and vanilla, there’s some caramel here too!” Many people carried American flags and the New Orleans insignia, fleur de lis. I walked around, talking with the people gathered to defend their human rights and met some of the most friendly people with whom I have come into contact here. One man came to the states in the 60’s from Honduras with his family. He worked as a merchant marine for nearly 4 decades until he retired a couple of years ago. He talked to me about how much he loves New Orleans, its people, the celebrations, and the opportunities here. He was here to support others from elsewhere in the world who were working as he did to contribute to life in the US and support his family. Several women approached us and thanked us for coming to support their efforts. One woman said that our presence at the march gave her inspiration in knowing that not all Americans wanted them to leave.
Eventually, the crowd grew to around 3,000 people and Congo Square aka Armstrong Park was filled with gaiety, inspiration, and promise. There was a portable central stage which supported some of the musicians that played as people gathered and later, the speakers who came to deliver messages to the marchers. A pastor from Vietnam talked of the work his people have done in the wake of the hurricane. A civil rights activist came and delivered an eloquent speech about the similarities between the rights the migrant workers were asking for and what black people had fought for in the 60’s. A Peruvian man shook visibly with emotion as he talked of work he and his family and friends have done here and how people can gain rights as equal citizens if they unify and continue to pursue them. Another person talked of the effort migrant workers have put in to helping to rebuild this great city, especially the work that most other people wouldn’t or didn’t want to do. He made the plea that it seems fair to expect rights for those working side by side with American citizens to restore the homes and industry from ruination here.
Common Ground had been working in solidarity with the march’s organizers to provide support through distributing fliers, organizing a brigade of peace marshals and some EMC technicians for the march, and providing some equipment. Eric and I donned Peace Marshal armbands and volunteered to keep the peace between police and any marchers as well as look out for the safety people as they walked. There was no need for intervention, however, as the march was a successful demonstration from start to finish. Many people came out of hotels and businesses to cheer on the marchers. I could see the silhouettes of fellow workers hailing from outside the US borders at work behind windows of high-rise buildings, their faces pressed against the glass to see the thousands of marchers walking for their collective rights. People came out of hotels and either watched in detached fascination or offered their unerring support to the throngs of positive marchers.
The march spanned a short distance, threading through some main thoroughfares, eventually culminating at Lafayette Park where some of the organizers spoke inspiring words through their bullhorns, camera flashes clicked here and there, and cheers enveloped the green space. Chills flanked my spine even in the near 90 degree heat to see so many people gathered together from all over the world in support of the common goal of equal human rights. It seems to be nonsensical to hire people from outside the country to do work that many people will not do (doing jobs that sustain our economy), for hardly any pay and sometimes without respect, and then refuse to compensate them with the rights that other humans are given for the same job due to the fact that these people belong to territories outside the US political boundaries.
This issue is beyond the question of the strength of US borders and illegal “alienship;” this issue concerns people who have been hired to do a job in the US but are not being supported to do so. In an ideal world, governments in the home countries would offer jobs wherein people could make a fair wage and family members would not have to travel outside their countries to put food on the tables and roofs over the heads of their families. It is not just in our country that people work in less than fair conditions for little pay, nor is it only our country where people are not afforded the basic human necessities (like health care that others are offered without question for the same job) through their place of employment. In many ways, it is our responsibility as consumers to be aware of what we support through our purchases and buy products that are made under fair and humane conditions (like products with the fair trade logo).
We’ve experienced the gamut of rights activism, relief projects, environmental awareness or lack of it, and so much more that hasn’t even sunk in yet since arriving in New Orleans. We plan on leaving tomorrow, having topped off our involvement with Louisiana through this march.
10th-Back on the water
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Feels good to be "back in the saddle" |
(Katie)We have finally done it! We have left New Orleans. Not only have we left N.O., we have left the salt water and are heading up the Tombigbee River. On May 2nd at 2:30 pm, with thunderstorms bearing down on us (they only started to form once we were out on the water), we set sail from N.O. It was suggested that maybe we should go back to the safe harbor where we spent the last 2 ½ months and try leaving the next day; I firmly objected. Who knows what might have happened had we gone back. We might still be there!
Over the next two days we spent some nice time in the Mississippi Sound. We planned on spending more time out on the barrier islands and decompress a little more, but the weather was not looking good. NOAA was telling us to expect severe thunderstorms all week! The morning of May 5th, we decide that it would be wise to get to the protection of Mobile Bay as soon as possible. With some dismay we committed to getting to Dog River that night. We had great wind in our favor and manged to move through the water under full sail. A nice sail, but none of us were ready to leave the blue waters of the sound. When you are living on the water, you have to respect the power of nature, and when you don’t is when you put yourself (and your boat) in compromised positions. On our way in, we heard a distress call from a cruiser who got caught in the storms that were happening east of Mobile Bay. They had been jostled quite a bit and had lost their rudder. The Coast Guard was sending a boat to them. Luckily we did not run into any of the thunderstorms, but we could see them on shore. By the time we got into Mobile bay, it was getting dark and two hours later the wind switched to our nose. For the first time all day, we started the motor and eventually had to drop all of our sails. It was a marathon day taking us 19.5 hours. We dropped the anchor in Dog River at 3:26 am.
While at the Dog River, we got ready for our journey upriver. Again the weather was looking bad, but we just had to go for it. Also at Dog River, we picked up two more travel companions. Luckily they had their own boat, because they would not have fit on ours! Johni and Brian are their names and through various connections they found out about us and wanted to caravan up river. Their final destination is Chattanooga, TN. It is fun having new travel friends and they share a lot of the same values as we do, so we have a lot of ideas to share.
The wet and thunderous weather NOAA had been predicting motivated us to get a move on. In two days we made it 113 miles. However on that second day the weather finally hit and it hit hard! T- storms had been threatening us all day, but somehow never actually hit us. Then just after dark, the lightning started just off to starboard and it kept getting closer. I was keeping watch on the bow, so the lightning helped me see things in the water, but as it got closer it was more blinding than anything. Then the storm went right overhead, the skies opened up, and neither Eric nor myself could see anything because of the buckets of water falling from the sky. The lighting and thunder kept on striking and sounding closer and closer until it was right on top of us. What an experience!! I've been through a lot of intense storms, but have never been so completely exposed to the forces of nature. A half an hour after the storm had passed, the sky was as clear as anything and the nearly full moon guided us safely into our anchorage for the night. That anchorage is where we are right now. The forecast was predicting more severe T-storms all day, so we have hdecided to sit the day out and wait to see what tomorrow will bring. Unfortunately, even if the weather is nice, after all that rain the current is going to be something fierce. We will just do the best we can.
22st-Our last Log!
May 21st to June 3rd- The Way Home
We sail out of Bay Springs and toward the ditch that connects the Tombigbee River to the Tennessee River. It is a warm Sunday and the ditch is just crazy with boat traffic, complete with a wakeboarder who attempts a jump and falls in the water right in front of Attorante! Luckily sailboats do not go very fast and we have ample time to avoid running him over. By the end of the day, we have reached the Tennessee River, wide, majestic, and more familiar. We head to the waterfall cove, one of our favorite coves in which to drop anchor. This spot is one that we stayed in on the way downstream, and had dreamed of retuning to on our way home. When we get there it is full of about 25 party boats blaring loud music with lots of drunk people! We continue on, anchoring shortly thereafter in another nice (quiet) cove.
Compared to the floods at the beginning of the Tombigbee, the trip up the Tennessee is fairly easy and uneventful. We make steady progress, visiting friends along the way and sharing stories. The weather and season are so different than the way down that the river seems like a completely changed place. There are so many boats buzzing around compared to the solitude of the winter. There are many more birds and animals about this time of year; in one creek, we even get charged by snakes! At Huntsville, Alabama, Katie departs to visit her family. It is very different with just Britt and Eric on board, the 3 amigos down to just two. When we pull out of Ditto Landing, it feels as if we have forgotten something. For a full 30 minutes, the remaining amigos sail on in silence as if observing the loss of a trusty friend. That is, until the wind comes up! Although we’ll miss her greatly (especially when we need to pull the anchor out of the sticky mud in the morning), we know we’ll see Katie again when we reach our stopping point in two weeks time. For now, we’ve set the sails in order to milk our chances of sailing upstream. Eric clambers into lil’ dink in order to get another great shot of the Mother Ship under full sail. We are sailing so fast that he barely has a chance to snap a picture before having to row madly to catch up with the Broadened Horizons. We hole up in a cove with Attorante to wait out the Memorial Day weekend, a notoriously busy and drunken time on the water. The bass fishing boats wake us at 5:30am, and it continues all day. It is a stifling hot weekend, with no wind and 95° temperatures. The water is around 80 degrees and doesn’t do much to quell the repressive air. All we can do is lie down below, covered with wet towels, fans on full-bore. This arrangement serves as our “air conditioning” from here on out. When the weekend is over, it is Britt’s Birthday! We stop over at friends in the town of South Pittsburgh and prepare a birthday feast. A joyous celebration with a triple chocolate brownie extravaganza dessert to send us off into a deliriously sweet reverie as night sets in.
At this point, we part ways with Attorante, our traveling companions of the last month. It has been fun greeting each day’s new journey with Brian and Johni. We’ve shared a novel’s worth of adventures, some incredible meals, and have learned a thing or two from one another. Farewell traveling companions. It’s just Eric and Britt now for the last stretch.
As the last few days of our epic journey draw closer, we find ourselves in the midst of one last, grande thunderstorm. In these parts, thunderstorms aren’t always just short, little events where a few strikes of lightening streak across the darkened sky, a rumble of thunder accompanies the lightworks, and it moves on. No, these thunderstorms can last for a few days with brief spells of clearing, and leave a heaviness in the air that precedes and marks another thunder and lightening show. We stopped over at Sail Creek Marina for the evening, said “Hello” to our friend, Andre, and wait out a monstrous rainstorm. We got so soaked running from the boat to the showers that we elected to just b-line it back to the boat wearing only our swimsuits post-“shower”. We could have just stood outside and lathered up then and there! With two nights to go, we holed up to anchor for the night in an obscure, unoccupied cove, with a partially submerged vessel near the rear for our exploratory pleasure. We were right next-door to a marina where those that apparently weren’t “in-the-know” or “self-sustained” had to pay for their evening’s lodging. We enjoyed another night’s display of thunder and lightening with popcorn in the cockpit.
The next day, as we inched along up-stream, we passed a hill-top perch occupied by two very large golden eagles. There used to be an eagle sanctuary here to help beef up their numbers and provide a safe haven for the weary, feathered travelers. Just as we rounded the corner, and the eagles were out of view, the sky clouded over and we knew the storm was about to unleash another downpour. We ducked into a too-small cove, barely able to nudge ourselves out of the way of the main thoroughfare of the river. “Kerplunk!” Within seconds of dropping the anchor, the first drops begin to fall.
A few minutes later, as we discuss what culinary creation we can summon up from the depths of our quickly diminishing food lockers, a sweet voice calls out from somewhere in the bushes. “Hey, is anyone aboard?” A friendly head and a brown, wiry dog emerge from the lush greenery that abuts the shoreline. Our new and instant friend, Andrew invites us up to the house that we can barely see through the trees and vines. We gladly accept and grab a Sustainability Project t-shirt with which to express our gratitude.
We enjoyed a scrumptious meal prepared by our new friend, Merymac, and beer from Andrew in Merymac’s comfortable, warm home. Over a smorgasboard of ice cream, we learn of their recently carried out hair-brained scheme to float a handmade raft downstream with only a sheet (as a sail) and an intermittent pedal-powered water wheel. They originally intended to go for 2 weeks….they lasted 4 days! It was a great idea and they now have substantial fodder for their next attempt. After a couple more hours of stories exchanged, we head back to the boat with bellies full and laughter upon our lips.
One last day. As we near the last mile of our trip, Eric and Britt contemplate whether we should turn the boat around and sail back to the Gulf of Mexico. We rack our brains, trying to think of something essential we may have left behind so we could go back and retrieve it. Perhaps we should just head for Cuba and continue the project there. Anything to prolong the inevitable end to this journey of a lifetime.
But as we round the last couple of bends in the river, sails full, it’s as if the universe intends to bring us to our destination place within the day, and we keep our course. We take the long way ‘round and soon, the familiar cove is within sight. It’s been an unbelievable trip, incredible project, and it’s so full of experience that it will take a winter to process all of it. Eric and Britt drop the anchor one last time, climb overboard into the dinghy and begin to row ashore to the same land from which we set out almost 6 months ago to the day.
As our legs find ground and our minds attempt to grasp the meaning of land-lubberliness once again, we look back at our floating home one last time. The Broadened Horizons swings languidly from her tether, as if she didn’t once feel a strain as our hostess in floods, hurricane zones, storms, and home again.