Tuesday, June 22, 2010

... But San Diego is a great place to live, right?

Wrong. It's a fine place to visit. We have lived in our lovely saiboat "Columbine" (more on the name later) in San Diego Bay since 2002. On the whole, I am entirely unimpressed with "America's Finest City." Honestly, how full of yourself can you get? Desert-clime San Diego leaches its water from... well, anywhere that will give it water for cheap. The plants are almost entirely non-native and require enormous amounts of the also non-native water resource. I really have thought "I'll die on the freeway today" from all the truly insane San Diego drivers on the freeways. I hate to admit that I may have become one of them. San Diego and its culture of self-absorbed materialism has a way of permeating your very soul.

Okay. I'll admit I'm in a foul mood, and in the throes of some serious PMS. A combination of red wine and some really loud Nine Inch Nails has shredded any of the filters I would normally impose on my public writing. This blog has had the same pictures and no words for the last 9 months because I have been intimidated by the blank screen. How do we introduce ourselves to our audience? Who is our audience? What if we have no audience? Whatever. It's time to write!

What has inspired me to start sharing my thoughts with my audience??? The U.S. Navy. Yup. Basically, I'm pissed off with the navy. It is just the latest reason in a litany of reasons to get the H*** out of San Diego. Do I sound like a "left-handed do-gooder nutjob" yet? I apologize. I grew up in Seattle and spent my formative college years in the predominantly Green Party San Juan County in northern Washington State. I can't help it.

I grew up in northeast Seattle, just a few minutes from the University of Washington, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, and an old naval air station now turned community garden and recreation center. The loudest noises in the area were from the late-night summertime skinny-dippers in the lake across the street. I have a particular fondness for sunrises through fog over water, snow-capped mountains reflected in still pools of water, and... um... water. I guess that's why I fell in love with a sailor / scuba diver /all-around-water-guy and we sailed to San Diego so that I could get my PhD in Marine Biology.

So, what does this have to do with the U.S Navy? Nothing, really, I guess. Except that every day I come home to our boat, the U.S. Navy gives me an extra shove, inspiring me to untie that mooring line. "Let's get out of here," I say. It's as though they know we've overstayed our plans, and they're reminding us that we don't belong here anymore. I finished my PhD in winter 2008. We were supposed to head to the Marquesas Islands in the tropical south Pacific that winter, but we stayed so that I could get some "real-world-job-experience." For sure, that was a great undertaking. I got an ideal post-doctoral position which expanded on the knowledge I gained in grad school. Even better, I think that my post-doc work enhanced our understanding of the population dynamics of an endangered marine species, and will further help us understand the future recovery potential of the local populations. But, now, it's been a year and half. We delayed our trip again because Glenn got a promotion. I don't mean to gloat, but in this economy, that's unheard of. I'm really proud of him. His company knows that they'll be losing a gem of an employee soon. We'll be leaving San Diego in late October / early November.

The latest plans are to head to Baja California, the Sea of Cortez, and maybe Costa Rica in the fall. Then, we'll continue with our original plans of heading to French Polynesia and the tropical South Pacific next winter. The U.S. Navy sends us a nightly reminder of our delayed plans by way of shrill underwater chirps reminiscent of an amplified smoke alarm that's low on batteries. This "smoke alarm" has been going off intermittently for the last 6 months. This noise is loud. I mean, really LOUD! Tonight's noise has persisted for the last 5 hours and has yet to let up.

I finally called the Harbor Police, who connected me through to some unpublished phone number for public complaints against the U.S. Navy. Honestly! They would not give me the phone number they were connecting me to! I explained to the Navy Phone Operators that there were frequent, but intermittent, very loud noises that were likely emanating from a naval base or ship that were giving me very bad headaches. I wanted them to stop. What on earth could they really be accomplishing by sending out terribly loud acoustic signals for hours within San Diego Bay??? Even if I'm not federally protected from this acoustic attack as a US citizen, surely the sea lions in San Diego Bay would be protected under the Marine Mammal Act. They wanted to know if I could tell them which naval ship was sending the noise. Really?? Just how am I supposed to know that? That conversation was two hours ago. In the meantime, I'm killing my high-pitch sensitivity with too-loud-Nine-Inch-Nails and a bottle of really good California red Zinfandel.

2 comments:

  1. Sorry the Navy is so inconsiderate. Nowing how I was as a bored radio operator on Okinawa, it may just be a bored sonar operator playing around while in port who has no idea what havoc he is creating for you and other boat dwellers.

    I enjoyed feeling your personality come through your words. I love you.
    Dad

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  2. It is clear to me that the Navy's training does not include a segment on appropriate behavior while in port. During a training exercise this morning, my neighbors and I felt a series of shockwaves pass through the mooring area. I thought somebody had hit the bottom of the keel. Two other neighbors had told me that they have found objects placed on the hull of their boat, presumably by the Navy. These actions display a level of arrogance and disrespect for private property that I think is fueled by the Navy's general lack of accountability for its underwater activities.

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