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Abandon Ship!

Yes, it’s been a while. Yes, I’ve been avoiding doing my homework on a subject I’d like to cover. Yes, I’ve been madly prepping for NaNoWriMo at the last minute. Sue me, I’m an artist. ‘Nough said.

I do, however, want to bring something to attention. There’s a little fisherman’s pier a little north of the Port of Everett and the Naval station and that’s where I’ve been going to learn the clutch on my 66 Mustang. I was there for the first time a couple of weeks ago, thinking it was just another empty parking lot. Boy was I wrong. When driving into the lot you will see a derelict blue shed to your left half hidden by a giant sign advertising a new marina. Coming back at it, however, you can see the wooden hull of a ship peeking out under the roof of that shed.

Picture taken by Joe Follansbee when the Equator was put on the National Register of Historic Places

It turned out when I pulled over that the rotted-out hull was the schooner Equator, built in 1888 in San Francisco as a copra (dried coconut meat) trader. She was converted to steam in 1897, then eventually diesel and gasoline before being abandoned in Everett harbor in 1957. But that’s just her work history.

Take a look at the central image on the banner over at the Robert Louis Stevenson website (also seen at the bottom here). Recognize the ship? RLS and his wife Fanny sailed on the Equator in 1889 so the famous author of Kidnapped, Treasure Island and Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde could study life and work on the South Seas for a number of upcoming novels. The RLS website has a page dedicated to his journey, and it is definitely worth a read.

She was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1972 and the Equator Foundation started to restore her, but every attempt has fallen through. And now the Equator sits in a falling-down shed off some little-used fishing jetty, forgotten. But let me tell you, it is quite something to stand a few feet away from its wooden hull, separated only by a falling-down chain link fence, and be able to count every nail working its way out of the rot; to stand under the prow that Robert Louis Stevenson had stood on to spear fish. I am unabashedly in awe of this ship, more than a century old, and all it has lived through. Even after being discarded, left to drift on the wind like a used hanky, left under a roof that is falling in as we speak (or type, whatever), it’s holding on just waiting for someone to care enough to bring it back to its former glory: the ship that inspired one of literature’s greatest storytellers. Go pay homage, it’s worth it.

See the photos I took here.

Robert Louis Stevenson (with cap in hand) and his crew as the Equator departs for the South Seas
 
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Grand Prize!

Grand Prize to the highest total sponsor!

Okay, now that I have your attention, I am taking a moment for some shameless fundraising. You can read my cause if you like or just scroll down the prize bit.

Ahem. Every year I participate in the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), and this year I have decided to take part in their annual fundraiser, the Night Of Writing Dangerously. On November 20th, writers from around the world converge on San Francisco to write novels and raise money for supporting creative writing education in public schools. Even five dollars helps, so please help bring the arts to our youth.

To show my appreciation, I spent several hours one weekend in my workshop to create something for the highest total philanthropist.

As of the 19th of November I will total everyone’s donations and my most generous sponsor will receive a leather-bound book hand made by me. Yes, that’s hand bound, hand painted, hand sewn, and all the pages hand torn by me. The center ‘eye’ is a fused glass cabochon from Sea Air Arts.

So please, donate anything you can, if not for the children (you should be hearing moans and weeping in the background about now), then for this uber-awesome handmade book I slaved over just for you. And thank you!

 
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Coffee and Mythology (since I don’t smoke cigarettes)

Ah, Starbucks. Named for Captain Ahab’s faithful first mate in Herman Meville’s Moby Dick; cult obsession of my hometown, Seattle; worldwide coffee sensation; provider of my daily happy juice. But I’m not here to talk about my obsession with my Caramel Macciato or my Earl Grey Tea Latté (seriously, guys, “London Fog” was a lot easier to shout over the din of 7am commuters).

"Odysseus and the Sirens" Athenian red figure stamnos, circa 5th century BC

A lot of people are under the impression that the woman on the Starbucks logo is a mermaid (two tales? Okay, I can kind of the go with that), or a Siren (see right). Unfortunately the bit about the Siren is tragically wrong. Pop culture has shifted our recollection of the Greek myths. A prime example of this is Perseus riding Pegasus. The only mortal to ever ride Pegasus was Bellerophon, son of Poseidon and master of horses. Perseus had the winged sandals given to him by Mercury and therefore didn’t need a winged horse. The only connection the two have is that Pegasus was born of Medusa’s blood when Perseus beheaded her (a result of having trysted with Poseidon back in the day). But I digress. Ahem. Sorry, touched a bit of a nerve there.

A Siren, like a Harpy, had the head of a woman and the body, or at least body parts, of a bird (see right). So no go there, Starbucks. The woman seen gracing our cups and the top tower of the Starbucks headquarters is taken from German heraldry and is representative of the Melusine (left).

There are several stories about the Melusine, but the most famous is from poet Jean D’Arras in the 14th century. He tells us of a king, Elynas, who met and wooed a beautiful lady in the forests, the fey woman Pressyne. Upon their marriage, she made him swear never to spy on her in childbirth or when bathing her children. Like all heroes of myth, however, he completely disregarded her entreaty. Enraged, Pressyne fled with their three daughters back to the Otherworld.

The triplets—Melusine, Palatyne and Melior—took revenge upon their father for betraying their mother by locking him in a mountain. Pressyne, upon hearing what her daughters had done, punished them. Melusine was cursed to take the form of a serpent every Sabbath and thrown into exile.

She was wandering the woods of France when she met Raymond of Poitou, prince of Antioch (and supposed ancestor of Eleanor at Aquitaine ). She, too, married under the condition that her husband promise never to spy on her in the bath. Raymond loved her so much that he built a special part of the castle for her so she would have privacy on every Sabbath. She bore him many children, but each was in some way deformed and taken away from her.

Here the story diverts a little. One version says that Raymond became suspicious and went to spy on her through a hole in the door while she took her bath and, seeing her with the lower portions of a serpent, gave out a cry of astonishment. Melusine, alerted to his betrayal, flew out the window.

The second (and I do believe older) version states that one of Raymond’s clergymen whispered poison into his ear, making him suspect Melusine’s demand for independence to be infidelity. So he and a few of his priests went to her baths on a Sabbath night and burst in on her. The clergymen, seeing her true form, proclaimed her to be a demon and took her up to throw her out the window to her death. I think this second version much more likely, from a storytelling standpoint (flew out the window? And in what part of the myth did it mention did the serpent woman sprout wings), but also as an allegory in the shift between faith. Not only does it represent the change of epoch from matriarchal culture to patriarchal, but also the fading of the Goddess religions and the efforts on behalf of the church to demonize its symbols.

On a more trivial note, other myths claim that the Melusine became a banshee that haunted the castle for centuries after, foretelling the deaths of each member of the royal family—her descendents—with her moans. Also worth noting: the Czech word meluzina means ‘wailing wind.’

Just so y’all know what I’m thinking about when I drink my coffee.

 
 
© copyright 2011- 2012 Ashland Elizabeth-McFarland Pym
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