Driver, T. C. (17 page)
Our job at Easter Island and two other islands in the vast blue Pacific Ocean was to build, or place, wilderness habitat living quarters for research scientists at remote locations. These habitats were steel cargo container boxes fixed up with power, lights, water and air conditioning. They used a lot of spray-on insulation. A large, tracked landing craft, of military type, was stored in the ship's big bay door at the stern. The two cabin cruisers were left behind in Australia. For Sarah and Haley, I presumed. These habitat containers had to be taken to shore one at a time. A dozen would be put on each island. Some containers were water plants, some storage. Most often two were power plants with batteries, wind and solar. We had two D9 size Cat bulldozers, two large farm tractors and four large winches for pulling trailers into position.
Building these 'camps' was hard work, much more than most of us were used to. Often dirt roads had to be cut. It was hot, time consuming and heavy work. To make things worse, Captain Joe Coe had three different groups of experts, each trying their best to run the show. Conflicts, bickering, loud arguments, strikes and Joe's temper were all daily rituals.
The first group was called the “Young Guardians of Mother Earth'. These young men were mostly worthless 'Momma's boys'. A no more pitiful excuse for afterbirth than I'd ever had seen one in my long life. They were truly unbelievable and disgusting. Just as Mel had warned me, they fancied themselves as scientists but were, in reality, a cult. An Earth witch religion in disguise. Most wore the image of Al Gorey, Castro, Osoma Mao or Islam. Not one of these pale, wimpy boys could hold a shovel or push a broom, much less drive a farm tractor or bulldozer. They were often worried sick about scraping the soil to make our access roads.
“It's dirt, Son” I would say. “Scraping it into a pile does not hurt it! Now stop crying and get back to work!”
The total lack of manhood in this bunch worried me. I asked one of the older young Guardians, a professor nick-named Cupcake, if this was a special 'short bus, retard or queer' group. Cupcake told me his campus at Berkley had a zero tolerance policy on masculine behavior. That my old school, backward, out-dated way of life was
unacceptable in today's modern world. That I should get in touch with my feminine side. His young men were the 'hand-picked, cream of the crop'. All were ready to give back to Mother Earth. They were all ready to sacrifice themselves to slow down over production and pollution. They would all help Osoma change the world after this one year on the Great Ark. This older professor sat very close to me often putting his hand on my thigh. As we stood up in the hangar to disembark, I accidentally knocked professor Cupcake into the surf. Two of his boys jumped in and helped him to shore. We never spoke much after that.
Joe's second group of experts, were the 'pig tails'. They are Rabbis and 'Holy men'. Twelve were young and active workers. Another twelve were senior teachers and not allowed to work, but were still very much in charge. At a certain age, fifty I believe, one moved from the young group to the older 'has been' group. One group wore hearts, the other wore diamonds. I called them the Geezer Club and the Spades, just to piss them off (ha-ha).
These men were stern and they were often mysterious, always sticking to themselves. I would later learn that they could `see' my giant as they reacted whenever he came near. This was often in a negative, praying him away manner. I was not sure if they liked my giant or not. Mostly, my giant just stayed in the distance.
The third group was twelve working crew members, some of whom knew how to put up and wire the habitat camps. Two of these, Lou and Tommy, became close friends, often joining me at the ship's Gospel Cafe. These two were 'eggheads, but they were still old-school, like me. The fourth group was us dumb workers, drafted in to fill the gaps.
When we pulled up close to Easter Island, the natural beauty was overwhelming; even life changing. Here at the ends of the Earth, the great South Seas, the grandeur of God's creation cried out for attention. The other two islands were simply called islands number two and three. Most of our ship-bound mates living on this floating city called the Great Ark paid the islands little mind. For the small groups of us who worked on the island construction projects, we saw everything different. It was very life altering.
The first habitat camp built on Easter Island would be our easiest and fastest. It still took us over six weeks to complete. The camp had the ability to make fresh water from sea water and produced both wind and solar power. Two boxes, or trailers, were placed close to the sea ten others were in the main camp. Of these, two were power stations, four were for storage and four were for living and work space. We cut a short road. All of our trailers rolled into position on wheels. All of this work was hot and dangerous. We were working on uneven ground and coming ashore through rough surf.
About a week before we finished up at Easter Island, I got a chance to spend three days working side by side with Captain Joe Coe and the pigtail group. We worked on a special assignment on Easter Island planting trees. This was my first time of 'getting to know' Joe as a Coe-worker (ha-ha). Captain Joe would argue with the Pigtails and complain about their many requests, but he respected them and tried his best to please them. It was an honor to work with this group; if you could call it work. The Pigtails had rules. Joe and I could not do most of the work. We were too old; over fifty. Tommy Mute could work. So could young student Travis Jones, who came along to help. The leader of the pigtails was named Jehuiakim and he had no helper. Jehuiakim called Joe Coe by the name Coniah, or Sonny Boy. The other Pigtails would grin. Joe and I rode on the front of the trailer to add 'dead weight' to the trailer hitch. Tommy Mute drove the farm tractor that pulled our long, low, flat-bed trailer around the rocky grass of Easter Island. Joe and I both carried long barrel 22 pistols for shooting rabbits. We had a blast shooting Easter bunnies (ha-ha). The Young Guardians group was not allowed to help or even come with us. When they found out we were planting trees, there was a riot. Joe got so mad that he put four of them in the brig and confined the rest to their quarters under armed guard. I laughed so hard I hurt myself and I gained more respect for old 'cold as ice' Captain Coe.
The weather on Easter Island was perfect with a mild sea breeze; a day in paradise. We four and the 'Pigtails' started planting trees in a uniform pattern all across the Island. We made our own way. No road, no path; our course got very bumpy. Tommy often had to 'go slow' to keep us from falling off. Each time we stopped, twelve 'Pigtails, including Travis, would jump out and dig holes with a 'two man' turning screw. Joe and I would shoot rabbits without ever leaving the trailer. Rabbits were running all over the place. It was really very funny. I thought we might start looking for Easter eggs any minute. Each time we stopped, the Pigtails planted a different type of tree in some known order. Bashem oaks, Shitem trees, olive trees and almond trees were only some. A rabbit or a dove was placed in the hole under each tree, depending on the species of tree. A large cage of doves was on the end of our trailer. Doves were held by the Jehuiakim man, two in his left hand, and painted by bunches of leaves. Then pulling a knife, he would kill one dove and the other one would get away. Always one would escape and fly away. I told Joe that he should use both hands. Joe just shook his head.
The older Pigtails were very happy, singing loud and praising God. They danced as much as possible without falling off our crowded low-boy trailer. This day reminded me of an old-fashioned hay ride only without the hay.
Our hayride ventured onto the beach sand only a few times. We stayed mostly on the grass. The first time we drew near to the beach, the Pigtail men started pointing, praying and chanting. I was sure I had seen a glimpse of my giant in that direction right before all the commotion and unison chanting started. A large wave soon hit the beach and traveled all the way to us, washing the wheels of our trailer a few inches. I laughed and said softly “Get 'em, Giant”.
Joe scolded me with a stern stare and a quiet, quick shaking of no of his frowned brow.
The statues of Easter Island were each prayed against, never to, as we passed by them while working on our tree pattern. The chanting would begin just as we approached each stone. Some were shown 'special' attention. During this three day work project, I noticed that into each hole a purple bag was emptied just after the rabbit or dove and just before the tree and prayer. Joe would not speak of this in front of the Pigtails. Later I learned it was priceless jewels, some of which were very old, having been found fifty years ago. They were 'unclean' for some reason; not to be sold or used ever again. Different jewels were put under different trees. Diamonds, for example, were put under almond trees, emeralds under olive trees. Frankincense and Myrrh trees were also planted. The fortune in jewels planted at Easter Island was as the riches of Solomon, never to be seen again. Each tree was protected from the rabbits by a small fence. Most were large enough to survive, anyway. These rabbits were a big problem. They were very much over-populated. People stopped Joe from putting rabbit poison out, but Joe did it anyway that last day. The Pigtails always got what they needed or wanted. This group was polite about God talk, but would not suffer me talking about being Holiness or teaching about Jesus. Really, I didn't know much and these rabbis knew this. They were a closed bunch and always dressed the same.
When the Great Ark pulled up beside island number two, six of us got into ultra-light crafts to scout out the rugged, rocky terrain. A couple of our sea planes joined us and we all circled the island together. This island was an impressive couple of large mountains with no apparent flat spot for our habitats.
There was one small cove on the opposite side of the island from our ship. Of course Joe's experts chose the steepest, rockiest side. I saw no obvious spot to build a camp on island number two. We started out by drilling holes in the side of a steep mountain by the sea and blasting like road builders do, dropping the rocks onto the beach forming a spot to build on. After the rocks were made flat and level by our bulldozers, there was a really nice looking habitat camp. We were proud of ourselves. The explosives worked pretty well. Cables were used to pull our trailers in place. This was one very expensive trailer park. It seemed strange to be building something up instead of bombing and destroying, but at least we still got to play with explosives (ha-ha). The Pigtail group was in total control of island number two from the very beginning and they had strict, crazy rules. Only a small group of us, twelve in all not counting Joe, and the Pigtails worked on this project. We begged Joe for more help, but to no avail. Some of the students Joe picked for this detail were of little help. One of the best workers was young Travis Jones who had helped on the hay ride. I should not complain much about these youth. I could at least tell they were men, not like those weird Guardians. Our same small group put in long hours each day on island number two. No rotation; no help from the rest of the ship's crew. These many long hours working cut back on my time at the ship's Gospel Cafe, but not out completely. I loved to sing, sip and sermon at my big, round, corner table. One thing I do know for sure, all college age kids are one hundred percent ass backward stupid about everything. These students base their lives on what they have seen on TV. They think it is all true. A lifetime of government programming is often impossible to break. Talking to or teaching them was like trying to explain to a fish that it's wet. By not watching TV and very few movies or TV news, I found that I had escaped programming and still had a clear, rational mind. There seemed to be no hope for this world and its drugged masses of brainwashed youth.
On ship, we worked twelve hours on, twelve hours off for three straight days with the fourth day off. In the morning of my fourth day off, I was determined to take at least a few hours off from island number two no matter how much Captain Joe hollered. I had worked straight through my last three days off. This night I stayed late at the Gospel Cafe. Talk at my table was about the old VPI shooting massacre and now the law suits. A little student named Ali Hamill talked about VPI's failure to stop guns on campus and the lack of a warning system. Of course, the anti-professor had to weigh in. I first, as always, bought a round of drinks (coffee), to bribe my group's attention. I get a fifty percent discount off my tab at the Gospel Cafe, but don't tell anyone. It's our little secret!
“One thing for sure, kids. Anything you have heard on the national news or have been taught in class is 180% from the truth and God's word. You have been taught a deliberate deception from your anti-God professors and their masters. Don't fall for the official line. Use your own eyes, your own mind and rational thought to evaluate the facts for yourselves. Always ask yourself, what does the Holy Bible say? What does God say? Just like 9/11 and the Columbine High School massacre, the VPI shootings were caused by evil men's reaction to silly, girly-man, anti-defense, gun control laws. These anti-gun laws and campus rules are in direct rebellion against God's natural laws and the teachings of his Holy Bible. A ruling class of socialist, humanist, ungodly, wicked men are attempting to use man's way (a police state), instead of God's way of faith, freedom and family. God's way, the Holy Bible works every time it's tried. Man's silly ways always lead to destruction. Man's ways have never worked throughout all of history. I have a question for you. Norris Hall, that is the first building on the drill field coming down from the 'upper quad', or the old cadet part of the campus, am I not correct?”
