USS Turner Joy

The USS Turner Joy naval destroyer was launched in 1958. She spent a lengthy career on the Pacific seas and was awarded a total of nine battle stars. She was named after Vice Admiral Charles Turner Joy, a heavy player in the Korean War. Her motto: Esse Quam Videri ("To be rather than to seem").

During what became known as the Gulf of Tonkin Incident, the Turner Joy and another ship called the USS Maddox fired upon what they thought was an attack by North Vietnamese ships but was later suggested to be false blips caused by weather conditions. This phantom attack led to severe US retaliation which shifted the Vietnam War into high gear.

During combat off the coast of South Vietnam a gun mount experienced a "hang fire," the condition when a shell is fired but fails to leave the chamber. The shell eventually detonated, killing three men and wounding several others. The ship was damaged again during Operation Sea Dragon. Designed to be quick and light, naval destroyers like this one were known as "tin cans" by their crew due to the unarmored hull being a mere 3/8 of an inch thick. As a result damage when sustained tended to be heavy.

Eventually rendered obsolete by computer-guided technology, the Turner Joy was retired in 1982 and is now permanently docked along a pier in Bremerton, WA, beside a well-stocked gift shop.

Glacier Bay

The bulk of the day was devoted to navigating the Alaskan Inside Passage. Eveningtime we chugged into Glacier Bay, deep into John Muir territory. The foredeck, usually closed to the public to prevent Titanic-inspired "I'm flying!" imitations, was opened to provide a front row view of the passing fjords. The winds picked up as we steered into Tarr Inlet towards the sprawling Margerie Glacier and onlookers zipped up their jackets. Backtracking, we passed Gloomy Knob, rounded Jaw Point, and entered Johns Hopkins Inlet, the cobalt waters dotted with floating ice. Honestly, the only real way to take a lousy photo here was to forget to remove your lens cap.

Underground Seattle

Downtown Seattle of the nineteenth century was built on tidelands, which wreaked havoc with its primitive sewer system. Toilet geysers of raw sewage were a frequent occurrence. When the city was devastated by fire in 1889, officials decided to rebuild at a higher grade to insure what was flushed down would stay down. Trouble was, the process of regrading would take much longer than the local business owners felt like waiting. What eventually happened is the businesses were rebuilt at the original level, then the streets were later raised, making the second floors the new first floors and the original first floors the cellars. For a time shoppers had to climb ladders in order to cross the streets until I-beams were installed across the gaps and sidewalks laid down at the new street level. The original first floors were used for storage and nefarious activity until vermin infestation grew out of hand in the 1900s and the subterranean spaces were closed off. Half a century later these dingy catacombs reopened as a tourist attraction. Unfortunately it turns out underground Seattle is not in fact plagued with sulfurous demons as depicted in the classic Scooby Doo episode, "A Frightened Hound Meets Demons Underground."

Sxip Shirey at the Cooper Square Hotel

On a rainslick Wednesday evening aural alchemist Sxip Shirey plied his trade in a post-modern penthouse twenty-one stories above the Bowery, the azure glow of the Manhattan skyline serving as an ideal backdrop. While Joe's Pub undergoes renovation, the Cooper Square Hotel kindly lent their upper reaches to the occasional musical outing. On a wooden deck high above the city only a flimsy glass panel prevented guests from being swept overboard by the tempest to the concrete far below. The acrophobes stayed safely indoors.

Revving up the evening was the Raya Brass Band, their jumping brand of Old World Balkan dance music in stark contrast to the ultra-modern space. This hardly concerned the gathering crowd, who encircled the troupe as the percussionist drubbed his tupan and the trumpeter shook his instrument to dislodge more notes out of it.

When Sxip took the stage he hauled aboard various members of the Raya Brass Band and guest vocalist Xavier ("he's like Michael Jackson meets Lionel Richie, only taller.") to compliment his unique bag of bells, whistles and conjurer's tricks. To get the audience in the right frame of mind, he repulsed them with a gratuitous description of blood pudding, a taste for which had acquired on a recent trip to Scotland. He then launched into his usual fare of careening funhouse melody welded to a streetwise stomp. Midway through the show he unveiled the "Sxipenspiel," a conundrum of bicycle bells constructed especially for him by an appreciative Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer. Sardined in the small space, the crowd raised wine glasses and cameraphones in celebration and good cheer. A neophyte within earshot attempting to describe Sxip's music to his companion eventually gave up in defeat, surmising "the English language doesn't contain the words for it."

The Chelsea Hotel soon may die a gruesome death. CBGB was dismantled and chucked in the dustbin. New York City had better cling to Sxip Shirey's pleated trouserleg while it can before he is lured away by the dubious temptations of European cuisine.































The Raya Brass Band:
Greg Squared: Reeds
Ben Syversen: Trumpet
Don Godwin: Tuba
EJ Fry: Tupan
Matthew Fass: Accordion

Xavier: Vocals
Sxip Shirey: A chest full of toys