Whittoons

Survival of the Fittest meant only one thing to this intrepid explorer — RUN!

Creatures from the Ocean Depths were certain to find me a tasty morsel. I could be Sweet Meat. I would not be subject to the whims of fate. Natural Selection would not happen if I had anything to say about it!

I was nobody’s fool. If the tide was rising, why stay a minute longer at the water’s edge. Time to find the Tsunami evacuation route and head for the hills!

There were times on the trip when other travelers must have viewed us as a traveling road show. What with the packed boat on a trailer, three out-of-control kids, the two parakeets, two turtles and Suzette, the neurotic wonder dog. When we pulled up to a camp site, the locals thought the circus had arrived. Unfortunately the birds couldn’t talk, the turtles lacked the Unique Features of the Mock Turtle from Alice in Wonderland, and the dog was not endowed with the wisdom of Lassie. So the crowds soon dwindled.

Our expedition seemed to be replicating the task of Peruvian rubber baron Carlos Fitzcarrald as we attempted to cross mountains ranges with our boat. Every pass was a struggle, steam pumping out of the car radiator, yet the boat was not to be abandoned. Dad had made that boat and it was going to the Pacific no matter what! Werner Herzog would have appreciated the monumental undertaking. And I would come to appreciate the insane endeavors to film Fitzcarraldo.

Reaching the coast was the culmination of a grueling trek across America. They had suffered untold hardships and deprivations – sitting in a wagon for hours on end, sweating bucketloads in the western heat, setting up camp in dreadful conditions and forced to use putrid outhouses. And No TV. It was a route full of sacrifices. We had survived.

The team of explorers took the coast route while the adults chose the path through the woods to a rendezvous point at the water’s edge. I was the youngest taking up the rear position in our line, checking out the trail as we “bushwhacked” along the beach. Our footsteps caused hidden mollusks to squirt in fright, as they burrowed deeper into the ooze. Startled ravens swooped from their perches in the ancient firs, their wings flapped ominously over our heads. We were not deterred. We moved forward.