This morning I called Larry to offer my services as chauffer because Gordon is in Saipan at the Flame Tree Festival. We drove to the canoe for the regular classes.

I don't know if I mentioned the classes and my connection is super slow today so I don't want to go looking for any earlier mention. Since I joined the Traditional Seafarer's Society we have been trying to get out into the community with our message about keeping the tradition alive. Part of that effort has been applying for grants to fund an education process. That was successful in January and the first classes started at the beginning of April. As with all things related to time and me, I have been unable to attend the classes until this morning.

We arrived and unloaded the truck. Larry brought several coils of rope and twine, life jackets and life rings, two boxes of files and photographs, a jug for mixing five gallons of iced tea, a canoe paddle, and a few miscellaneous items. We met Manny and his son Clarence/Bruce/Mikey (yes, one son, more on that later) and others began arriving soon after. The boonie stomp group was meeting at the same time so the place was full of people talking.

The class had to take a test on the subjects learned so far, the parts of the canoe in Manny's native tongue, Carolinian. The idea is that Manny has to give commands on the boat and he cannot stop to explain which line a crew member should haul on or where someone should sit. Manny got the boat rigged with the mast and sail standing. Then the canoe swarmed with people doing a last minute cram of the parts and lines. Manny reviewed the important parts with the people calling out the answers as part of a review. Then they were ready for the test. Everyone had a piece of paper with 37 answer lines. manny stood on the canoe with a pointer and called out a number and pointed to a part of the boat. Peole were very intent, scribbling furiously.

I sat on the sidelines. I didn't bother trying to take the test. I knew I could always make up the work with him later. It helps being vice president of the club. So I sat and studied the crowd and thought of the months that led up to this day. We had about 25 people there of both genders and all ages. They were very serious. I felt a bit of pride in what the society was doing. I looked at them and at Manny standing on the canoe and I knew that we were doing the right thing.

When I joined the group we had a broken canoe and no real goal. We were squatting on borrowed property under a ratty canopy and any rain cancelled all work for the day. We had no wood and only Manny knew what trees would provide the right supplies.

Now we have a small paddling canoe under construction, we have acquired the logs for a larger two man sailing canoe, classes in sailing and navigation, and we expect the poles for our canoe house to arrive soon. There is movement and it is good. It certainly feels good.

Tomorrow Wakana leaves me for a month or so. She is going back to Japan to prepare for her immigration visa. She is packing as I speak. By this time tomorrow I will be footloose and fancy free, i.e., lonely. I hope it doesn't take too long.

Someone came by and took my pickup out for a test drive. It would be nice to get it sold though I will miss it. For aabout a month before I advertised it we watched the paper looking for a similar pickup so I could gauge my price. None were for sale. Now that I have it listed someone else is selling the exact same truck and asking $1000 less than I am. Sigh. It's that old argument with the Goddess of Time.

As for Manny's son, Clarence/Bruce/Mikey, we have never agreed on his name. Some of our members call him Clarence, others Bruce. Today when he had to introduce himself to the rest of the class he said his name was Mikey. Manny called him Mikey. Yet, in the past I have heard him call the kid Clarence. If you ask him to clear up the confusion he only grins. The mystery will remain.