Sunday, April 16, 2023

The Hero Rats of Cambodia


African Pouch Rat at the Apopo Center - Siem Reap, Cambodia

The Hero Rats of Cambodia

travel memoir

by Gregory E. Larson

          What does Lady Diana have in common with a young Belgian named Bart Weetjens, and African Pouch Rats? All have raised awareness of the death and destruction caused around the world by landmines that remain from previous wars and conflicts.

The mountains of Cambodia

          On a recent overseas trip, I spent five days in Cambodia with my youngest daughter and her family. We toured the Angkor Wat temples and additional holy sites in the Cambodian mountains, but one free day remained at the end of the trip. My daughter gave Cici, the five-year-old granddaughter, some optional activities to pick from. She said, “We can go to a lotus flower farm and see how they grow flowers, or we can go to the market to shop and eat, or we can go to a center that gives demonstrations on how rats are trained to detect land mines. It says we get to hold a rat at the end of the visit.

          Cici wasted no time in saying, “I want to go see the rats!”

          We hopped into a taxi and were driven to the Apopo Center on the north side of Siem Reap, Cambodia. The center is there to promote awareness of the landmine problem and to provide demonstrations on the effectiveness of the rat program. They keep about a dozen of the retired African Pouch Rats there for the demonstrations and allow those on the tour to hold a rat.

          At the beginning of the tour, we were told the history of Bart Weetjens, the Belgian who raised rats as pets. Bart teamed up with some professors in 1996 and developed a training method for rats to detect small amounts (less than a millionth of an ounce) of TNT. They also developed search methods and tested the effectiveness. The African Pouch Rat was selected as the best type of rat to train, partly because they have an average life span of eight years. It takes one year to train the rats, so that allows them to be productive in searches for several years.

          By 2003 the research team completed field research methods in Mozambique that were 100% effective. The Apopo main center was established in Tanzania, and over the years the search teams have successfully worked around the world in places like Mozambique, Angola, the Gaza Strip, and numerous sites in Southeast Asia, including Cambodia.

          Our guide shared with us that approximately six million landmines remain buried around Cambodia, most from the civil war with the Khmer Rouge. Every year there are people who are maimed, injured or killed when they step on a landmine or drive over an anti-tank landmine. During the demonstration, the guide explained that a trained rat can search an area the size of a tennis court in 30 minutes. That compares to the four days that are required for a person with a metal detector to search the same area.

The Hero Rat searches for the TNT sample

          One of the rats was brought out on a leash, and the search demonstration began. Two “handlers” had a cable looped on their ankles which allowed them to keep it tight, while the rat, which was connected to the cable and the leash, was allowed to search from one side of the plot to the other side. The men moved one step at a time for each crossing of the plot by the rat. When the TNT was detected under the surface, the rat began to dig (for the safe demonstration, a small amount of TNT was in a little metal cannister). The guide explained that in a real situation, the handlers move the rat away from the detected spot and a flag is posted for experts to come and neutralize the landmine and safely remove it.

The Hero Rat discovers the TNT sample and begins to dig

          We were told the rats are given physical examinations every two weeks. Since the rats are nocturnal, they work mainly in the early morning hours and in early daylight. For us to hold a rat, we were required to thoroughly wash our hands and arms to remove any sunscreen to prevent the rats from getting sick.

          The guide brought a chair for Cici to sit down to hold a rat named Sylvia, but she wanted to be like the adults and she kept standing with a big smile on her face when they placed Sylvia in her arms.

Cici holds Sylvia, one of the Hero Rats

          The tour was very educational, and it gave me a better awareness of the land mine problem that continues to exist around the world. At the gift shop, I bought Cici a Hero Rat t-shirt, which she proudly wears. Her mom asked her what she learned and she said, “the rats go find things so they won’t explode.” Well said.

          Each of the rats has a name, and a majority of the best search rats are female. They made us aware that one of the top female rats was named Lady Diana. I’m sure Lady Diana is smiling somewhere up in heaven.

Cici proudly wears her Hero Rat t-shirt





Sunday, March 5, 2023

The Dark of Antarctica

 

The Belgica trapped in sea ice in Antarctica - 1898
(internet image - coolantarctica.com)

The Dark of Antarctica

historical essay and book recommendation

by Gregory E. Larson

 Preface:

          How well would you survive if trapped on a sailing ship in the ice off Antarctica, knowing that a sunless winter was about to begin? The book, Madhouse at the End of the Earth, unveils the story of the Belgian expedition to Antarctica, where the ship and crew were trapped in the ice for the first “wintering” in Antarctic history in 1898. The story continues to be researched as a study in how man is affected by isolation, confinement, and darkness. NASA uses this century-old mission as a resource for understanding physical, mental, and social issues that can impact long-term space missions.

          I found the book at the library while browsing at random. Knowing that my brother-in-law, Michael Farley, and his wife, Linda Anneberg, had just returned from an Overseas Adventure Travel cruise to Antarctica (December 2022), I was eager to learn something more. (Thanks to Michael for allowing me to use his photo images taken in December 2022 in the same area in the Gerlache Strait which was discovered on the journey described in the book.)

          Madhouse at the End of the Earth (by Julian Sancton) resonated with me on several levels. Having previously read about the race for the south pole (1911) between Englishman Robert Scott, and Norwegian Roald Amundsen, and another book about the Ernest Shackleton Adventure in 1914, I concluded this early expedition by Belgian explorer Adrien de Gerlache in 1897 is “the story before the stories of Antarctica,” and it provides historical context to the Amundsen and Shackleton adventures. As I began reading, I was pulled into a drama that played out at the bottom of the earth 125 years ago.

          The initial motivation for Belgian seaman Adrien de Gerlache to explore Antarctica was to gain glory for Belgium and to establish his fame in the annals of navigation and science. He quickly learned that fundraising and selecting crew members were monumental tasks. Even King Leopold of Belgium was lukewarm to the idea, and provided very little financial and moral support.

          Once he had a reasonable amount of funding, De Gerlache purchased a used whaler ship, refurbished it, and christened it The Belgica. His goal was to have Belgian seamen and scientists for the entire crew, but he could not find all of the navigational and scientific expertise there, so he cast his net far and wide. International expeditions were rare in those times.

Antarctica
(photo image courtesy of Michael Farley)

          De Gerlache selected a Polish chemist and geologist (Henrik Arctowski), a Romanian zoologist (Emile Racovitza), and a 24-year-old Norwegian First Mate, (Roald Amundsen). This was to be Amundsen’s first trip to Antarctica. It was a time in Amundsen’s life when he was eager to amass all the skills necessary to become an explorer in his own right. His mind was like a sponge in learning by trial and error, and he was physically fearless in his desire to be a successful explorer. He was an expert cross-country skier having spent several treks in northern Norway.

          De Gerlache had difficulty finding a physician who wanted to make the trip but was able to hire an American physician/surgeon, Dr. Frederick Cook of New York. At the last moment he joined the crew in Rio de Janeiro. The navigator and the bulk of the rest of the crew were a rag-tag bunch of French, Norwegians and Belgians that were willing to join the expedition, which seemed sketchy at best. Communication became a mixture of languages and hand signals.

          As they neared the southern tip of South America, numerous delays and fiascos almost doomed their plans. Several crew members were kicked off the crew for fighting and drunkenness. The scientists begged for extra time to research indigenous people. The clock kept ticking. Finally, as they neared Tierra del Fuego in a storm, they became stuck in a shallow passageway and made several attempts to pull off the rock. De Gerlache could see his glory fading away, believing the voyage was doomed and their lives hung in the balance before they had even set sail across the Drake Passage towards the Shetland Islands and the Antarctica peninsula. Finally, the ship broke free of the rock. They were delayed further by having to take on new fresh water to replace what they had emptied to lighten their load.

          Although the crossing of the Drake passage was uneventful, they floated into a sea of icebergs as a storm came up. Waves crashed against the ship, causing water to pour onto the deck. Coal had clogged some of the scuppers and caused the overflowing seawater to pour into the hatches and into the inhabited areas. As two of the crew attempted to unclog the scuppers, one of the men fell overboard when the ship jolted against an iceberg. The crew made several futile rescue attempts but the man died of hypothermia and drowning.  It was another failure on a voyage that had barely started.

Lemaire channel at the Gerlache Strait - Antarctica
(photo image courtesy of Michael Farley)

          Finally, On January 23, 1898, they spotted land in Antarctica. They were now at the edge of the explored world. As the weather cleared, they realized they were at the mouth of a huge inlet into the peninsula at Graham Land. It was the most idyllic time of the expedition. The summer light was good, the strait was relatively calm, and the unknown territory seemed like a dreamland full of new mountains, and wildlife. Their hopes to create a detailed map of the strait were not fulfilled. The weather was too foggy or cloudy to allow them to make celestial observations. Expeditions onto the mountains with a theodolite were fruitless due to the poor visibility and the rugged, icy terrain. On rare, clear days, the sea with the icebergs and the mountains around them shone in full beauty.

          Once out of the strait, and with very little to show for the journey thus far, de Gerlache contemplated what to do next. He wanted very badly to have some type of headline grabber for the expedition. With the Antarctic summer on the wane, he made a quick decision. In confidence with the Belgian navigator, de Gerlache decided to see if they could break the southernmost latitude (71°10' S) recorded in 1774. He gave orders to turn south and with a stormy wind behind them, they sailed over eighty miles in 24 hours and recorded their southernmost location at 71°31' S. But the sea ice continued to form and the ship became quickly trapped. After a day of being stuck in what looked like a frozen plain, the magnitude of their predicament sunk into the commander and crew. They would be the first in history to winter in Antarctica. After a few days in the foreboding, frozen spot, de Gerlache wrote in his diary, “We are no longer navigators, but a small colony of prisoners serving their sentence.” They wondered if they would survive their entrapment.

Icebergs at Melchior Islands - near Gerlache Strait - Antarctica
(photo image courtesy of Michael Farley)

          In the beginning, the crew busied themselves, reorganizing their supplies and building huts on the ice for the scientists. As the expedition’s physician, Cook realized he had a huge responsibility to try to continually keep the morale of the ship to a level that would get them through the ordeal. Cook and Amundsen spent much time brainstorming activities and would share ideas on how to plan future expeditions to the polar regions. On a sled exploration away from the ship, the two designed a new tent that worked well in high winds. On another trip, they built an igloo. Their active minds and their friendship created a strong antidote against the oncoming darkness.

          Eventually, the sun refused to rise on the northern horizon and the darkness of winter set in. The crew’s morale began to sink with the onset of continual darkness. Cook recorded the physical and mental deterioration. One of the crew had a congenital heart problem, and in the extreme conditions, eventually died. Morale sank even further.

          Cook instituted daily walks outside the ship, during the brief northern glow of daytime, or nighttime walks in moonlight. One of the men penned it the “madhouse promenade” in his journal. But the physical activity was not enough to help the men keep their strength. Cook noticed the onset of scurvy on several of the crew. He also noticed that the few people (including Amundsen) that ate raw seal meat showed no signs of scurvy. Most of the men hated the taste of the meat, but once they noticed that those who ate it remained healthy, they finally began following Cook’s recommendations. He also began what is considered the first light therapy for depression. Cook had a deep belief that light was a necessary ingredient for life, and had the depressed men stand naked before a bonfire, telling them that their mood would improve. In most cases it was helpful. The men appreciated the attention given to them by Cook.

          Morale continued to worsen. De Gerlache became depressed and locked himself for days in his cabin. A few of the men became withdrawn and paranoid, shunning interaction with the crew. One of the crew became catatonic. When he finally was able to communicate, he was never the same. The nervous breakdown had caused permanent damage. Another crewman, who went on a skiing expedition with Cook and Amundsen became suspicious that they were out to kill him. His demeanor was forever changed.

Melchior Islands near Gerlache Strait - Antarctica
(photo image courtesy of Michael Farley)

          Winter passed and the ice continued to hold the Belgica into the next summer. Cook was convinced that if they could not free the ship from the ice, many would not survive a second winter. Explosives were used in an attempt to loosen the ice floes, but the ship remained locked firm. Finally, de Gerlache proposed they cut the ice (one to two meters thick) with saws and create a channel of about a half mile to open water. It seemed ludicrous. The task would be herculean, requiring an unbelievable amount of manual labor to save the ship and crew. The men formed two shifts, with all of the crew taking turns, except for the cook who prepared the meals and blew the bugle on the deck to announce mealtime.

          The crew’s spirits began to rise. Their health also improved. To have something to focus upon helped their overall morale. But the second summer was on the wane and it was a race against time to free the ship. As they neared completion of the canal, sea ice began forming again at night. Then the floes closed the canal shut for several days. All hope was about gone, when miraculously, the canal opened up and de Gerlache commanded to fire up the steam engine and unfurl the sails. The Belgica began to move and increase in speed. At the end of the man-made canal a barricade of ice had formed, but there was no turning back. De Gerlache ordered full steam ahead and the sturdy ship plowed through the ice and into the open water. Even though they were in an open channel, it took several days of navigating around the ice to traverse eleven miles to open sea.

          After surviving a storm of biblical proportions at the south end of South America, they finally came to port in Punta Arenas on March 28, 1899. De Gerlache declared the end to the expedition and the crew split up as some decided to stay awhile in South America. Amundsen escorted one of the Norwegian crewmembers, who continued to remain paranoid, back to Norway. Others went with de Gerlache back to Belgium where they seemed surprised when treated as heroes. Eventually, the strait which they discovered was named The Gerlache Strait.

          To this day, the scientific value of the expedition continues to be seen. Many of the animal specimens and organisms discovered have been kept in Belgian repositories. The diaries of the crew are detailed, and Cook’s has special value in showing how he dealt with the men’s physical and mental strain.

          As for the three main leaders of the expedition, Adrien de Gerlache never returned to Antarctica or led any polar expeditions, but played a role as advisor to future polar expeditions and to shipbuilders. Dr. Frederick Cook led an expedition to the North Pole and claimed to be the first person to discover it – but without corroborating evidence, scientists and publishers discounted the claim. Cook eventually was convicted for unrelated financial fraud and sent to prison. Roald Amundsen decided to set his sights on the discovery of the South Pole and in 1911 led a group that claimed the South Pole before Scott’s ill-fated English expedition was second to the South Pole but perished on their return route.

          The author of Madhouse at the End of the Earth, Julian Sancton, shares his thoughts in Author’s Note at the end of the book. His excitement at finding the diaries, the scientific information and descendants of de Gerlache resonated with me as a writer of non-fiction. Sancton wanted to experience the Antarctic, so he boarded the Hebridean Sky (the same ship my brother-in-law and his wife took in December 2022) to experience the Gerlache Strait and the edges of the Antarctica continent. He spent a week in the Antarctic summer, viewing (in color) the same scenes in the black and white photos taken by Cook in 1898. Sancton could only imagine what it was like to struggle to survive, day after day, in the dark and seemingly unending Antarctic winter of 1898.


Cruise Ship in Antarctica - 2022
(photo image courtesy of Michael Farley)

Monday, November 14, 2022

The Need for Speed

 

Ready to Race
Daytona - Rolex 24-Hour Endurance Race
2022 watercolor by
Gregory E. Larson

The Need for Speed

travel memoir

by Gregory E. Larson

I’ve always had a fascination for fast cars. As a boy, I would spend hours putting together race car models bought at the dime store. If I got bored in school, I would draw race cars on the back of my spiral notebooks.

Back in the ‘50s and early ‘60s, the Indianapolis 500 race was not televised, but it was on the radio. Dad would loan me his boxy, Bakelite clock-radio and I would lie down on the floor, close my eyes and listen, trying to visualize that I was really there. The announcers in each corner of the track would yell into their microphones as the drivers, like Parnelli Jones, Roger Ward and A.J. Foyt steered their racers around the corners.

In the school library, I found books about the Le Mans 24-hour race in France and the Mille Miglia race in Italy. The stories fascinated me, partly because they were in Europe and partly because they were run on public roads. Then I got interested with riding bikes, which helped me get a sense of speed while pedaling. As I bicycled through neighborhoods, I would pretend I was road-racing in Europe as I leaned into the corners.

Now that I’m older, I realized that I’ve not attended many "big-time races." I did go watch NASCAR at the Kansas Speedway when it opened – and that gave me a good “speed fix.”

Recently I reconnected with a friend from high school. He lives in Daytona Beach. He invited me to come and watch the Daytona 24-hour Rolex race which is Le Mans style sports car racing. I thought, now that is big time racing.

For a speed junkie, the Rolex race had it all. There were 61 cars in 5 categories of racers, with four drivers for each car. At Daytona, the 2.5-mile oval is the main track, but there were some inside-the-track roads and a chicane on the back-stretch, so the total course was 3.7 miles per lap.

This prototype car looked like something out of Star Wars

With access to the garage areas before the race, we felt like kids in a candy store. The lower-end category of GT cars included Porsche, Aston-Martin, Mercedes, Ferrari, etc. The high-end categories were prototype Le Mans cars – which are custom racers. The top category was Daytona prototype cars. There were only seven of them, and they went about 20 miles per hour faster than all of the other cars. The garage was a bee-hive of activity, where the mechanics were putting the last-minute touches on the cars, and filling them with fuel. We had to stand behind the ropes outside the garages, but were within arm’s length of the cars as they pulled them out of the garage to put in fuel before rolling them to pit road. The garages were full of car parts – very expensive car parts. The cockpits in the prototype cars looked like something from Star Wars.

We went up to our seats in the big grandstand to watch the start, which was quite a production. The cars were lined up on pit road, and the drivers marched out with a flag-bearer with the flag for each driver’s country. The mechanics and owners were lined up with the drivers at each car. I estimated that 1,500 people stood by the 61 cars on pit road as the National Anthem was played. How big-time can you get?

Start of 2022 Daytona - Rolex 24-Hour Race

I did wear ear plugs once the cars got out on the track. On the starting lap, the noise was so loud that the grandstands were vibrating. We watched the first few hours as the cars sped by. With five categories of racers, it would seem that disaster would be inevitable with slow and fast cars mixing it up. But the slower cars know they are not to get in the way of the faster cars. Somehow it all works out. The lead car was always flashing the headlights to warn the slower cars as it approached them. 

2022 Winning Car in Daytona Prototype Category

As the shadow fell over the grandstand the temperatures dropped and we left the track for the night, but returned the next morning to sit in the sunshine and watch the remainder of the race. To me, it was not important who won the race. I just wanted to enjoy the speed. I was glad to find out that one of the Porsche GT Pro teams won their category, and that made me happy because we had eaten at an Italian café in Daytona and the Porsche team was eating there, too. I figured they must be a pretty good if they picked the best Italian place to eat.

Someday I’d like to travel and see a Formula One race. The need for speed is ongoing.


Tuesday, September 27, 2022

2022 Art on Oak Exhibit, Oct.7th and 8th

Sicilian Fishing Boat
2019 watercolor by
Gregory E. Larson

 

2022 "Art on Oak" Exhibit

Here's your invitation to come and see the work of 40 artists. We'll all be showing original works of art as well as prints for sale.

Dates and Times:

October 7th, 5 - 8 pm

October 8th, 10 am - 4 pm

Location:

Second Presbyterian Church, 318 55th St., Kansas City, Missouri 64113

I'll look forward to visiting and sharing stories about my watercolors. This is a well attended show and it is fun to see so many new and familiar folks at the exhibit.

Mark your calendars!

Greg

The Old '46
2020 watercolor by
Gregory E. larson


Thursday, August 18, 2022

The Exceptional Bay of Fundy

 

Low Tide at Burntcoat Head - Bay of Fundy

The Exceptional Bay of Fundy

travel memoir

by Gregory E. Larson

Preface: I want to thank Freewheeling Adventures, Inc., and our guide, Aly, for a top quality bike tour and adventure on the Bay of Fundy. I'd also like to thank Nova Shores Adventures for an excellent day of sea kayaking, too.           

Can you picture 100 billion tons of seawater? That is the amount of tidewater that comes into Nova Scotia’s Bay of Fundy in each 12-hour tide cycle - twice as much as the combined flow of all the rivers in the world in the same 12 hours. The highest tides in the world have been recorded at Burntcoat Head on the Bay of Fundy at 54 feet. Most of the time, depending on the spacing of the lunar and solar tides, the water changes 30 to 50 feet, twice a day. Fishing boats must either leave their docks before low tide or have some system of strapping the boats to the docks so they don’t tip over. Warnings are marked on public beaches of times people must be on solid ground to prevent drowning in quickly rising tidewater.

Low tide at Advocate Harbor

          I learned about the tides and so much more on a recent bike tour along parts of the Bay of Fundy. After visiting there, I place it as one of those rare spots on earth where the history, the geology and the scenery all make it somewhat magical. The Rocky Mountain wilderness, or the Grand Canyon also come to mind –exceptional places that make you feel lucky to have seen them.

Parrsboro Inlet - high tide

Parrsboro Inlet - low tide


        

          


          The Bay of Fundy was created by a split in the mega-continent called Pangea. About 200 million years ago the African continent pulled away, but left a piece of what is Nova Scotia. The cliffs on the Bay of Fundy expose rocks that are full of lava and basalt formations. They are also full of fossils, too. At the town of Joggins, there is a UNESCO Heritage Site, where the tides erode the cliffs and the fossils become exposed. The curiosity seekers and scientists come and explore for the fossils that are strewn out along the beach.

          This area of Nova Scotia was a land of the M’iqMak natives for many centuries before the Europeans came. The Acadians came from France in the 17th and 18th centuries, and attempted to live peacefully but that became difficult when the French and the British fought for the area that is now eastern Canada.

Acadian Memorial
          We started our bike tour in Grand Pré, a settlement that was created by the Acadians in the 17th century. The Canadians have built a chapel there which memorializes the Acadians who were persecuted by both the French and English. The English gathered them up in 1749, burned their villages and shipped them down to the colonies along the east coast of North America. Eventually, they migrated to Louisiana to become ’cajuns. The Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem Evangeline tells a love story of a couple that was engaged the night before the British invaded the town of Grand Pré. Evangeline and her fiancé were separated and Evangeline spent her life trying to find her long-lost love.

          During my trip, the bike tour route had us along the coastline, which was full of hills. I was on my limit of endurance at least once a day. I had to admit that I’m not getting any younger, but I gave it my best effort. The scenery of truck farms, forests and glimpses of the bay made it all worthwhile.

The timeless beauty of the Bay of Fundy

           Today, the area around the bay is rural farmland and forests. There are a few small towns and villages that are supported by tourism and agriculture. It's an out-of-the-way place which appeals to me. Unless we were near a village, there were very few cars that passed us on the bike tour, along with a few farm and logging trucks.         

          One of the activities during the tour was a day of sea kayaking. As luck would have it, our guides told us that only once or twice each summer, the winds are calm and our start was at low tide. The bay looked like glass, and the kayaking was as pleasant as being on a lake. We followed the coastline for a few kilometers to lunch, and then returned in the afternoon. Our guides were able to talk about the geology of the bay since the wind and the waves were silenced while we glided on the docile surface. It felt like I was floating in a dream. We passed geological formations called sea stacks, caused by the tide erosion.

Kayaking past sea stacks caused by erosion

A magical day on the Bay of Fundy

          Another lifetime memory was a stay for two nights at a lighthouse on Cape d’Or (try to find that on a map). It is located where the Bay of Fundy splits between the main arm of the bay and the Minas Basin. After a three-kilometer ride in the van on a gravel road over the hills, we then walked a quarter mile down a jeep path to the lighthouse at the cape. It was a surreal experience to sit out on the edge of the cliffs and look into the vast bay. Time seemed to stop while I listened to the tide currents and watched the sunset. So many tide currents and back-currents exist at the cape, thus creating a lot of changing rapids and waves. The local seafarers have named the currents at Cape d’Or the Dory Rips. I could have stayed there for a week and it wouldn’t have been long enough. It was a commune with nature, far away from civilization. The changing tides and currents made me think of the Bay of Fundy as a giant bathtub which is always trying to find its liquid equilibrium, but is never quite able to do so because of the tides.

Cape d'Or Lighthouse

The "Dory Rips" current at Cape d'Or

Sunset at Cape d'Or

Dusk at the Lighthouse

          A comfortable bed and a breakfast in the lightkeeper’s house with a view of the bay made it a pleasant experience. The foghorn was removed a few years ago, so the sleep was undisturbed, other than the flashing light against the wall of the bedroom. 

          I took many photos of the cliffs and the lighthouse, hoping for a good view with abundant sunlight for a watercolor painting. Finally, on the last morning when the sun came up, I hurried outside to take a picture, which will be etched in my memory. It was another dreamlike experience. While I created the watercolor at home, I could still feel the cool morning air and hear the waves crashing onto the rocks. The cliffs and the fields of flowers created a timeless view of a place I’ll never forget.

Cape d'Or - Bay of Fundy
2022 watercolor by
Gregory E. Larson



Thursday, July 7, 2022

The Perfect Watercolor


Jim Hamil (1937-2022)
Foreword: 

The year is barely half complete, and Kansas City has lost several well-known artists. I wished I could have spent time with all of them, but I consider myself lucky for getting to know Jim Hamil in the latter years of his life.

Many thanks to Alex Hamil for helping me with some facts for this memoir, and thanks to Melanie Werner for helping set up the meetings with Jim as I got to know him through our visits.

 The Perfect Watercolor

A memoir of my time spent with Jim Hamil

by Gregory E. Larson

          It’s always sad to lose someone who’s had an impact on your life. Jim Hamil was one of those people. Before I knew him as a friend, I would find time on a cold, rainy Kansas City night to slowly turn the pages of his “Return to Kansas” book that he and his wife, Sharon, published. It is full of paintings from all around the state in which I’ve lived my entire life. His watercolors were complex and I spent long hours thinking how he constructed them with color washes and details.

Print of watercolor of "Plaza Carriages"

          We first met in 2013. I bought a print of one of his famous Country Club Plaza scenes – one with the horse-drawn carriages in the nighttime snow – and had him sign it for me. When Jim discovered that I had worked at Hallmark as an architect, he briefly shared the story that in 1961 he gave Dwight Eisenhower a watercolor lesson in the private penthouse apartment in the main Hallmark Headquarters building, while overlooking the downtown skyline.

          When I discovered that the event had never been documented, I was determined to write a magazine article and get it published. He agreed to have me come to his house and interview him about the Eisenhower experience.

          Being a process-driven person, I developed a long list of questions, thinking that I would get all of the pertinent information in one meeting. I was so wrong. He took me on an adventure. We spent several sessions at his house, and I realized I was a better person for listening to Jim’s stories and advice. With each question on my list, Jim would backtrack and tell me several anecdotes that would eventually lead to the answer.

          The best part of the time spent with him was walking around his house, which was overloaded with paintings on the walls and stacked against the walls and furniture. He had a story about every painting, especially the ones he painted plein-air style, or outdoors on-site. I was amazed at how he was able to capture farm scenes with animals and the always changing weather. Some of his best paintings have the Kansas storm clouds reflecting the sunlight while the thunderheads are billowing upwards.

          In 2017, I started doing watercolors – something I hadn’t done in 40 years. I took some Kansas City Art Institute classes. Some of the paintings looked pretty good, so I decided to show them to Jim. His one sentence response was classic mentoring. He cut right to the issue, without “beating around the bush.”

          He said, “Greg, I really like your compositions and style, but all you need to do is put more pigment on the brush.” His comment was worth all the classes I had taken. I rushed home and went right to work on the watercolors. From that point on, the paintings took a significant leap forward in quality.

          Upon hearing that Jim had passed away, on January 14, 2022, I stopped to reflect on our friendship. With tears in my eyes, I thought back to those visits when Jim was full of tales. I dug through my stacks of art and found an art print he had given me and remembered the story behind it.

          On one visit, Jim seemed to have more energy and wanted to take me to the lower level of his house. He said there was much to see downstairs. I feared that he might trip and fall as we worked our way down the steps, but he did fine, conversing all along the way.

          He found a stack of prints, pulled one out and said, “Here, take this. I want you to have a print of this painting I did while on a sailboat in the Caribbean (St. Maartens, 1983). It’s titled Under the Jib." He talked about artists always wishing they could improve their paintings. In the artist’s mind, there is always something in each painting that isn’t quite perfect. He told me he was given the opportunity to sail on a wealthy Kansas Citian’s boat and decided to do a plein-air painting while on the deck. As he talked, his eyes began to twinkle and I could feel his energy.

"Under the Jib" 1983 watercolor painting by J.R. Hamil


          “This is one painting where everything seemed effortless. The selection of color, the brush strokes – it all went down as I wanted it. Since the boat was moving through the water, I had to visualize how the white water was to look in the painting.”

          I couldn’t imagine how one could effortlessly paint on-site in a moving boat, but if anyone could do it, I’m sure it was Jim. He continued, “It was amazing. I couldn’t believe that every brush stroke was exactly as I wanted. It was a rare moment that I’ll always remember. When I thought I was finished, a splash from one of the waves hit the watercolor paper and created a bloom spot. I decided that made the painting even better because it came while I was on the deck of the boat.”

          To me, his comment about the “perfect painting” is part of the essence of a life well-lived. There are moments in many professions, from scientists to athletes, and from artists to attorneys. It is a “sweet spot,” sometimes at the apex of a career, when experience, talent, and opportunity create a moment in time when the professional becomes one with his/her profession. It all comes together so well that it seems effortless. A perfect painting . . . a perfect race lap . . . a perfect closing argument in a trial.

          Jim had a storied career as a professional artist, and he accomplished so much. I am glad he shared the story of the “perfect painting.” It was created on a day when he was outside, at peace with his task. He made me feel like I was right on the deck of the boat with him, sensing his joy of that moment.

          The hours would melt away as Jim shared his life stories with me, and I will have great memories of the time spent with him.

Monday, May 2, 2022

Singapore Primer


'Merlion' fountain in downtown Singapore


Singapore Primer

travel memoir

by Gregory E. Larson

 

Map of Singapore

          When I shared with friends that I had just returned from Singapore, the most common reply was, “I confess I don’t really know much about Singapore.” That was my same thought before I visited the island nation. Here are some basic facts:

·       Singapore has a population of 5.7 million people.

·       The form of government is listed as “Unitary Multiparty Republic with one legislative parliament”.

·       The island of Singapore is eighty-five miles north of the equator and located at the tip of the Malayan peninsula. It is adjacent to some of the islands of Indonesia. The area of the island is 281 square miles and it is approximately 25 miles long by 12 miles at its widest point.

·       The equatorial climate has daytime high temperature around 90°F and nighttime is about 80°F. Average annual rainfall is 95 inches per year. During my visit, the sun was shining about 20% of the time and the rain was constant about 20% of the time, with the remaining 60% being some form of cloud cover.

·       Worldwide shipping is the economic engine of Singapore. Miles upon miles of gigantic shipping docks line the shores of the island. The cranes are working 24 hours, 7 days a week, to load and unload the containers. I read one fact while I was there: During each year, one out of every five shipping containers, worldwide, goes through Singapore.

·       The island became a British colony in 1867, and gained its independence in 1959. Today it has a very diverse population made up mainly of these three groups: ethnic Chinese (74%), Malay (13.4%) and Indian (9%).

·       Military defense of the island is an agreement between the U.K, Australia, New Zealand, Malaysia and Singapore.

[information source: Britannica.com/place/Singapore]

International Shipping is the economic engine of Singapore

          At the time of this article, Singapore continues to keep a tight COVID policy. I was able to visit because the U.S. is one of nine countries that have Vaccinated Travel Lane status with Singapore. I had to apply to Singapore for a Vaccinated Travel Pass, and was required to prove that I had all three available COVID vaccinations. A COVID test was required prior to leaving Los Angeles and another test was needed upon my arrival in Singapore. The U.S. required that I take a COVID test prior to leaving Singapore. While in Singapore, the government regulation required everyone to wear a mask in all public spaces and outdoors (with the exception of swimming, jogging or riding a bike). The government had signs on public transportation that no talking was allowed while riding the buses and subways.

          On the morning that the plane approached the island, I looked out the window and saw hundreds of ships anchored offshore, waiting to load and unload cargo. At the end of a 17-hour and 50-minute flight from Los Angeles, the plane landed. I quickly went through customs and boarded a taxi to my daughter’s condominium on the west side of the island near the National University of Singapore, where she and her husband have research positions and my four-year-old granddaughter is in daycare.

          The humidity hit me like a wall as I walked between the airport and the taxi. The next impression I had was the thick jungle growth along the highway as we sped west towards the downtown. The taxi entered a long tunnel that went under the harbor, so I wasn’t able to get a good look at the downtown until we came out on the west side. It was a blur of skyscrapers, condos, ship docks, green parks, double-decker buses, and fancy cars. I learned from my son-in-law that car ownership is allowed once a very expensive permit (thousands of dollars) is obtained from the government.

          The tourist venues seemed surreal, since very few tourists were in the country at the time of my trip. I felt like I was in a movie where most of the people had disappeared. The people that I did see were wearing a mask, so there wasn’t much interaction between people in public. The few times I did talk to those around me, it was hard to understand the Asian accents from under the masks.


One of  the 130 sparkling Metro stations in Singapore

          I developed a routine of sightseeing on my own during the weekdays in the morning, lunch and early afternoon. That allowed me to move about, using the extensive and well-maintained subway and bus system before the afternoon rains came. Once back at the condo, I swam laps in the pool, making sure I finished before the rain started. After three or four claps of thunder, I retreated inside for espresso and a snack.

A nice pool for swimming laps.

          On evenings and week-ends I spent time with my family, either sightseeing or trying out some of the local Asian food. Western fast-food places abound and sometimes that was the simplest solution for the granddaughter and for me.

          I felt like I was in an architectural candy land with all of the intriguing buildings and landscaping. It seems that all the architects try to outdo each other with eye-catching buildings and details. The landscaping and the trees are everywhere and sometimes they are growing on the buildings.

Singapore is an "architectural candy land"

          My favorite tourist activities were in the downtown area where the main river meets the bay. Skyscrapers abutted the river and were adjacent to a small area where old shops and restaurants catered to the business people. The downtown river cruise helped me get oriented to the dense city area. As I boarded a touring boat that normally held forty people, I noticed that only eight people had come onboard. There were rows of tour boats moored on the river, unused during the pandemic. As we floated towards the inner bay, I was mesmerized by all the buildings; the skyscrapers, hotels, museums, malls and condominiums.

Singapore skyline view from the inner bay.

          Across an inner bay is the famous Marina Bay Sands Hotel (with cantilevered gardens and pool on top) and the Gardens by the Bay with the Super trees, Flower dome, and Cloud Forest building. 

Marina Bay Sands Hotel

          On a separate outing, I toured the Cloud Forest, which is climate-controlled to simulate a jungle, with the sprinklers creating rain every two hours. The man-made mountain has tropical and jungle plants over the entire surface. As you enter the building you are confronted with the highest man-made waterfall which cascades from the mountain – all encased in a massive glass structure. Elevators take the visitors to the top of the mountain where paths and bridges lead pedestrians to the bottom. Orchids, foliage plants, Asian pine trees and shrubs all give the moist air a fresh outdoor fragrance.

Man-made waterfall in the Cloud Forest building

One of the many Super Trees in Gardens by the Bay

          After touring the Cloud Forest, I ventured out into the Gardens by the Bay to get up close to the Super tree structures and to experience the suspended walkway above the growing trees and gardens. As I walked above the gardens, I remembered the movie, “Crazy Rich Asians,” which I recommend that you watch. It takes place in Singapore and one of the key scenes in the movie is a wedding party that occurs in the Gardens by the Bay.

View of condominium towers from the gondola ride

          Another fun outing was with my family and granddaughter. We rode on a gondola which was suspended from the highest point on the island all the way across a bay to the resort island of Sentosa. The embarking point was on the fifteenth floor of a building at the mid-point of the ride. We first went out over the bay to Sentosa, and eventually took the gondola all the way back to the top of Mount Faber (a hill of 358 feet in altitude). My four-year-old granddaughter was as excited as she could get as we boarded the gondola for the first time and rode several hundred feet above the bay. What a memory to see her so full of joy.

The gondola ride was a real adventure for my granddaughter.

          I had many other fun times and places – too many to recall in detail here. The zoo, the botanical gardens, the linear parks, the harbors with massive container ships, the rental-bike ride, and the explorations to different parts of the island. It was sad to say “good-bye” to family as I left in the taxi for the airport.

Flowers in the Cloud Forest