Plying the Crystal Coast...

…under a Black Flag, of course.

The weather in Virginia Beach was warm and calm – unusually so for this time of year. So we decided to head south toward the Crystal Coast and the old town of Beaufort, North Carolina for an overnight trip.

We went in search of pirates. To be specific, we went in search of the most notorious pirate of them all – Edward Teach, AKA Blackbeard.

I had heard that his flagship, the Queen Anne’s Revenge, had been discovered lying on a sandbar just outside Beaufort Inlet, known in Blackbeard’s day as Topsail Inlet. Underwater archaeological recovery efforts had been going on for about ten years and I wanted to see some of the artifacts myself.

So we set out on a clear afternoon, down past the Great Dismal Swamp, where “black bear crossing” signs stood. I didn’t want to meet a black bear here. I had seen a bear skin not long ago – one of the biggest bear skins I had ever seen and was told that they grew that large in the Great Dismal. So I had no intention of making any stops along those sodden shores.

After a four hour journey and well into the sunset, we arrived in Beaufort. It is a town of very charming, very old houses and many, if not most, are B&Bs. But most of those are closed during winter months. So we settled into the nearly equally as charming and very friendly Inlet Inn, situated directly across from the harbor.There was a view of Carrot Island on the other side, with its population of wild horses. Rachel Carson did her pivotal environmental work on that very island years ago.

Our room was wonderful, complete with a long, old-fashioned window seat, into which my son settled with a book immediately.

The next day we visited the North Carolina Maritime Museum and saw the small collection of artifacts the museum currently holds from the shipwreck. It seems Blackbeard probably scuttled the Queen Anne’s Revenge deliberately, having blockaded the port of Charleston, South Carolina so recently with it and now it was too much a recognizable liability for him. He removed most of the valuables before leaving the ship and scattered his crew, probably so as not to have to share the treasure and in order to make an easier getaway. Because of his having cheated his crew, there was ready testimony against him when some of the men were caught.

The QAR was formerly a French slaver, La Concorde, refitted by Blackbeard after its capture by him into an incredibly effective pirate warship. Some of the artifacts recovered include a small amount of African gold, which helps to identify the vessel. The divers have also found a part of the ship which has since been raised – study of this part will also help to confirm the identity and will also be on exhibit when the museum completes its new annex. There is also a ship’s bell, pewter plates,

navigational and surveying tools, and lots and lots of cannon.

There is also this peculiar and very telling object.

It is a penile syringe, used to administer mercury into the urethra in hopes of securing a cure for venereal disease. During Blackbeard’s blockade of Charleston, one of his demands was for medical supplies and treatment for venereal disease was among the supplies requested. I think it is difficult to have a more intimate view of a man than to view his very own penile syringe – even at a distance in time of nearly 300 years.

Blackbeard had a favorite place to stay in Beaufort – an inn called the Hammock House, which is now the oldest house in Beaufort, having been built in 1709.

Today it is a private residence. Back in Blackbeard’s day it stood much closer to the creek – so close in fact that one could tie one’s boat up to the trees in the front yard. The course of the creek has changed since those days and now it sits at some distance from the water’s edge. It is said that he married young Mary Ormond here, but it is also said that he had 14 “wives” along with the wife and child he is supposed to have had back in England. Apparently Blackbeard was susceptible to Love and to women.

Blackbeard obtained a King’s pardon for his piratical activities – and needed it, too, after his attack on Charleston. He likely obtained the pardon through the Governor of North Carolina, Charles Eden, who was probably receiving payment and goods from the pirate as well. The Royal Navy eventually killed Blackbeard by order of Governor Alexander Spotswood of Virginia, who refused to tolerate Blackbeard’s operating so close to Virginia shores. After all, Blackbeard was in charge of a fleet of ships and several hundred men and could have easily destabilized the fledgling country, which depended on maritime trade so heavily. Although Blackbeard had received a pardon, he was settling into a new community of pirates rather more comfortably than the Governor liked just south of Virginia. The decision to attack Blackbeard was controversial, out of the Virginia Governor’s jurisdiction, and it is possible the Governor eventually lost his job over the action.

After viewing the exhibit, we toured the rest of Beaufort, and then headed back to our “headquarters” in Virginia. It had been a good raid.

Who the #$&% Is Norton?

Before we get too rude, I must tell you about my latest art acquisition. (Roll over Rockafella- artists always have the best art collections.)

My new “action painting”, pictured above, was purchased, not from a toney art gallery, amid the clink of champagne glasses and hushed conversation, but from the Virginia Aquarium and Marine Science Center, in Virginia Beach, amid the squeals of delighted children and the sound of water.

Come and meet the artist - Norton, the harbor seal:

Norton is part of the Virginia Aquarium's Harbor Seal training program, designed to stimulate the minds and emotions of the seals in the collection. One of the activities in which they engage the animals is a painting program and the results are sold in the gift shop in order to help raise money for future programs. I spoke to one of the animal care specialists, a young woman who also took Norton’s picture for me. She informed me that the seals do indeed enjoy the activities. She also told me that it was quite remarkable that Norton was even able to paint, because as you can see, Norton is blind in one eye from a marine accident. He is also nearly blind in his other eye because of advancing age:

Nevertheless, his small creations are regularly produced in the program and he does enjoy safety and comfort in his home at the museum.

The Virginia Aquarium and Marine Science Center offers a Harbor Seal Splash experience in which a visitor can go into the water with the seals and work with them and even have them paint a picture for the visitor to take home. It is offered only in the summer months and so I was not able to attend this time, but I will certainly plan it for future visits.

How Rudee!

Oysters, little oysters...! And the place to get them - and slurp them - is Rudee Inlet in Virginia Beach. Working fishing boats come right up to restaurant's edge and supply the freshest seafood. If that's not fresh enough for you, you can charter your own vessel and take to the high seas in search of something more adventuresome.

This bumper sticker is going on my truck. It will go perfectly with my "Well-behaved women rarely make history" slogan. It will embarrass my son, of course, but these things can't be helped. A lady's gotta do what a lady's gotta do...

In the meantime, stay tuned for more rude and piratical adventures brought to you right here in the comfort and safety of your own living room, or Internet café, whatever...

Sleeping Woman

The second in my series of four paintings for the woman who has a story to tell.

Hi, said I

“The big artist keeps an eye on nature and steals her tools.”
- Thomas Eakins

Terra Incognita

This "one-day" painting actually turned into a two-and-a-half-day painting, especially once I got into sewing on all those shells along with bottom.

This painting is about exploring new lands within oneself.

Acrylic on paper with velvet, silk, cotton, printed map, and shells.

An Issue of Lust

The "one-day" painting I had completed today was far too wet to transport. So I will have to bring it home to scan it for you tomorrow.

In the meantime, I have been informed that a local news and arts magazine, The Metro Times will be publishing one of my Cave of Desire paintings on its front cover for their "Lust" issue. Just in time for Valentine's Day. I think they said it will come out tomorrow. Or maybe next week. We'll find out... together.

Madame Pele, IF you please...

“Well, I stand up next to a mountain
And I chop it down with the edge of my hand
Well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island
Might even raise a little sand

'cause I'm a voodoo child voodoo child
Lord knows I'm a voodoo child…”

-Jimi Hendricks, from “VooDoo Child”

He might as well have been talking about Madame Pele. Yes, MADAME Pele. Be sure you address her with such respect. All indigenous Hawaiians consider Hawai’i to be the center point of creation and Kilauea as Madame Pele’s very abode.

They are correct.

Pele is creating the newest land on the planet, slowly, violently and beautifully – every day. Imagined as a strong and stunningly beautiful woman with long black hair and a hot temper, She destroys and creates at will. A true, temperamental Artist.

Once we got a taste of the land and the air and the energy which permeates everything in Hawai’I, and after having spent the morning walking land which had been created since my own birth, we felt the need to offer something to this creative goddess, this "First Artist". We rummaged around in our limited belongings for something to offer. I knew the park rangers had had some difficulties with some of the offerings people had left – some were distinctly non-environmentally friendly and either littered the grounds or left food around which simply encouraged wild pigs and other nuisance animals. So we didn’t want to leave anything with any real or negative impact. Some people said She (Madame Pele) was rather fond of gin.

I think the Lady likes perfume.

N. managed to scrounge up a couple of tiny vials of sampler perfume from the bottom of her luggage. The kind you get at the perfume counters for free and are good only for one or two applications. They come attached to a little card with the label and a descriptive mythology of the scents they hope you will eventually buy. One was a Versace perfume, for women. The other was a man’s cologne by Calvin Klein.

“But She has a boyfriend” I said.” The ranger said so.”

“That’s right. We’ll give Him the Calvin Klein. Then they can have a date.” said N.

Pele has an admirer, an ugly pig-god named Kamapua’a. They have fought violently over time, but he stays close to her in the form of a special fern which grows near Halema’uma’u Crater and actually gives it its name. He represents water and keeps the rainforest very lush.

Good enough. It was decided.

N. and I checked back at the station and were told that the air quality had improved to the “green” level, which meant that Kilauea Crater was safe enough to at least enter and walk a little bit, although we were not to approach Halema’uma’u which is home to Pele, which steams and is still giving off those noxious fumes. But Hawai'i's trade winds had blown off most of the worst vog.

“The smell of sulfur is strong, but not unpleasant to a sinner”
-Mark Twain, from “Roughing It” 1866

We decided we would walk only a short distance out – perhaps a half mile or so – before turning back, because we also did not want to be caught out on the lava or in the jungle after dark. Darkness falls pretty quickly near the Equator and distances can be misjudged. We both carried flashlights as a matter of course, but did not relish the idea of stumbling back through the rain forest and over uneven lava or roots at night.

We began at the top of the trail which led to the crater floor through a stunningly lush rain forest. At every turn it was more beautiful and filled with sweet bird song. As we descended we looked up at the cliff from which we had come.

Huge boulders were tumbled down the cliff face and strewn across our path.

The trail was very good. Excellent, in fact. A few places where one had to watch one's step over lava chunks and roots, but otherwise very lovely.

About 500 feet down we finally came out onto the crater floor. This crater was big – far bigger than Kilauea Iki – and imposing. Majestic. Very, very black and steaming everywhere. This was truly the home of a force to be reckoned with. Madame Pele Herself!

We walked out to a large cairn, about a half mile from the edge of the jungle. We were totally alone. Not a single soul was out on the crater floor. There was no temptation to walk out to Halema’uma’u – we were too scared to be tempted.

N. gently set her camcorder down on the cairn facing us and we began to describe the setting and our reasons for being there. We held up our tiny vials of perfume and told Madame Pele they were for her and for her boyfriend, whose name we could not remember or pronounce. We pried open the tops and sprinkled the few drops of fragrance onto the ground. So as not to litter, we placed the now-empty vials into our pockets, where they smelled strongly - almost overwhelmingly so. We turned off the camera. Glancing back toward the jungle’s edge and then at the sun, we knew it was time to be heading back. Another beautiful walk up through the forest and back to Volcano House.

In celebration of our little ritual we sat in Uncle George’s bar.

We drank Chardonnay and watched a gorgeous sunset before having dinner and then curling up next to the famous lava fireplace, with its carved image of Pele, for a couple of hours of warmth and conversation. Then to bed.

That night it rained prodigiously. We awoke to the most intense double rainbow I have ever seen – so deep that one could see beyond the purple to the hidden colors of the prism. The rainbow arched over the jungle and ended precisely on the very trail we had taken the night before in order to reach the crater floor. I took it as “mahalo” for the perfume - an unusual gift, perhaps. Certainly different from a bottle of gin. More Feminine. You know, treat Her like a Lady.

“I think She had a good night with Her boyfriend”, I told N.

She agreed.