Liam had a lot on his mind, but the soothing gift of nature was filling some voids. In Seal Rock as Liam and I were surf fishing one morning, I realized the depth of his thinking. We were the only people visible for miles of this wide, flat beach. It was about 10 am; the sun was poking through misty clouds lighting up waves and shore grasses with color. To our left, steep slopes of fir trees met the ocean forming a far-off cove near Waldport. Nearly three miles of beach on our right met majestic rock formations occasionally being slammed by large, rolling waves. My “heaver” surf rod had bait thrown well beyond the break where I was just waiting for the bite. Liam was repeatedly casting his “Gulp” bait over and over again secretly measuring his increasing distance with each throw.

 

I was alone with my grandson, reflecting on the moment, thanking God for the gift, and wondering if Liam was sensing anything similar. I said, “Liam, you know, many rich men never appreciate time with nature like this. And it’s free. Money can’t buy this kind of happiness.”

 

And my soon-to-be-eight-year-old grandson Liam said, “Sometimes money can buy sadness.” ….. WOW!

 

During our two-week stay in Seal Rock, we crabbed or fished nearly every day. When crabbing from a rented boat with three rings each baited with a skinned mink carcass, I manned the outboard motor and edged up close to each crab-ring float. Liam’s job was to hook the floats and begin to pull up the rings as fast as he could. The three of us, Val, Liam, and myself, then brought the ring into the boat and culled the trapped crabs for keepers which had to be males measuring at least 5 ¾ inches across the back shell. It was the excitement in that boy’s face, catching his first batch of fighting, clawing crabs that reminded me how special the process of childhood discoveries is.

 

Two of our other sons, Joe and Luke, also drove their families up from Southern California to join us for three days. They stayed in a nearby motel on the Waldport harbor with a perfect view of the 4 ^th of July fireworks which were fired off, per local custom, on the 3 ^rd at 10 p.m. We were thrilled that three generations of Hudsons went crabbing together and celebrated with a feast of “Old Bay” steamed crabs.

 

For me, the highlight of each Oregon trip is an early-morning visit to the docks of Newport where I talk with crew members of commercial fishing vessels while snapping hundreds of reference photographs. Liam came with me one morning and met Jerry, a 75-year-old fisherman from Morro Bay who built, owns, and operates his own 40-foot wooden boat. Jerry, who also owns a machine shop, said he could build anything, but his buddy who only had a 6 ^th-grade education did the boat design for him in 1981. “The man has a gift,” Jerry said. Jerry is an albacore fisherman who started in San Diego but had to move north with the fish to Morro Bay. Now, he says, the fish left Morro years ago, and I come up here (Newport). “But this year the water temp is a perfect 61◦F and there are no fish within my range (about 160 miles).”

 

I asked why and Jerry was glad to vent. In his opinion, Asian countries are using 25-mile-long drift nets to illegally take everything. In 1992, even though the UN banned the use of drift nets longer than 2.5 km long in international waters (or the high seas), punishment is assigned to the home country. As a result, there are no enforcers.

 

Jerry’s views were supported by many others, all having informed opinions and explanations. Climate change and nuclear waste from the failed Japanese power plant were specifically identified. As one professorial beachcomber told me: “The biggest threats to biodiversity can be remembered by using the acronym H.I.P.P.O. : H abitat Loss, I nvasive Species, P ollution, Human P opulation, and O verharvesting.”

 

As we drove home from Oregon I thought how wonderful and exceptional this vacation had been. I had been to the same places and done the same things as I had in Oregon for the last 20 years. But this year had new excitement. I looked at my reference photographs last night and they look fresh, better than any in the past. I had just experienced discovery as seen through the eyes of my grandchildren. Now, I can’t wait to paint!

 

*******

 

One Last Thought ….

 

Whenever my foot hits the sand of a 300-yard-wide desolate Oregon beach, I’m hopelessly reminded of the statement, “There are more stars in the sky than grains of sand on all the beaches.” Until 2012, this was an optimistic speculation fueled by Carl Sagan to further interest in astronomy. But the Hubble Deep Field Photographs taken from 1996-2012 have confirmed the existence of millions before-unknown galaxies and millions of billions more stars which do indeed total far more than the grains of sand.

 

I was so intrigued with the star/sand analogy that I made my own calculation and reported it in my September 2016 Newsletter, “The Most Important Photograph Ever Taken!” I finally accepted Sagan’s speculation as substantiated fact, but I will never be able to comprehend the enormity of the universe. For example, if our own sun was reduced to the size of a grain of sand, the next closest star within our own galaxy, represented by another grain of sand, would be seven miles away! Think about it.