I enlisted drone pilot videographer Riley Goss for help on this one. I knew the water was crystal clear and he would be able to see me underwater from above. I place the fish cam in 15 feet of water or so, in a trench between two outcrops, and then make a couple short dives to adjust it. Best part: the amazing tracking shot @1:10, where you can see what a beautiful underwater playground there is here at the Ledges. (No audio.)
15 feet deep, 75 feet off shore. I’ve seen loons hunting here so I’ve staked it out…
DULUTH, Minn. (AP) – On August 10, 2020, Duluth Mayor Emily Larson commissioned the Duluth Autonomous Navy to eradicate the bull shark terrorizing Duluth’s beaches. Only four days later, the DAN co-Admirals have announced “mission accomplished.”
[Update: Not a real shark! I’m writing it all up for my next Saturday essay at the end of August, stay tuned…]
(Troy Rogers photographed by Richard Narum)
Announcing the formation of the Duluth Autonomous Navy, with co-Admirals Jim Richardson and performance artist Troy Rogers aka Robot Rickshaw. We want you. Every time you touch water, it becomes a naval engagement…
I would like to use my newfound powers of the co-admiralty to declare Troy a menace for his recent naval actions (see below), and I hereby issue a call to the new city attorney, who is a personal friend of mine, to charge him with sedition and place him under arrest before he causes an international incident. And then where will you be? I’ll tell you where: you’ll be in a room with the mayor and she’ll be saying, “Will you please just start listening to Jim Richardson, he’s Secretary of the Navy around here and in fact I’m giving him your office.” It’s a funny story, involving as it happens, my secret contact on the police force – another personal friend of mine – and what kind of superhero would I be if I wasn’t cultivating levers of law enforcement power from within the machine, a lot like Batman? I am all up in the Deep State of this chooch town.
Like I was saying, the public might recall the former autonomous-watercraft hijinks of this madman Troy and myself, from our iceberg ride, to going solo with my Flamingo Patrols. Then we were going to have a team-up for the Floaty Flotilla, the weather-sensitive non-event recently canceled at the last minute due to winds above 10mph, albeit blowing toward the Lakewalk – you’d be unlikely to blow out to sea, is the best I can say there. I’d had an irrational hope that the winds would dip below 10mph and perhaps be manageable. But there were whitecaps, and a small craft advisory and everything, so: no way. I found out later someone put in on some kinda floaty, and paddled it a short ways using shovels; I feel horrible and I shouldn’t be surprised these brave citizens didn’t get the message about the last-minute cancellation. So right there I’m like: I gotta quit doing this stuff.
Official fireworks canceled, fireworks sales at all-time high, some visible across the lake distantly in Wisconsin around midscreen, the region is lit. That is a full moon hidden in the clouds. This mainly posted for the audio to give the insane flavor.
With regards to a recent sarcastic comment by Vicarious about me posting on PDD about an interview I did about a PDD post, I was reminded of this Richardson brothers story. It was inspired by a war in the PDD comments section back in the old days, but the gist is infinite recursion in blog comments.
Robin Washington interviewed me on Wisconsin Public Radio about the essay I wrote for PDD denouncing my white Confederate heritage.
Hi all. I am canceling the Floaty Flotilla at the last minute because the wind has kicked up enough for a small-craft advisory. Will reschedule for when the water is like glass. Thank you~
I am disgusted by the Confederate flag, and by those white people who defend its display as “honoring their heritage.” I say this as a white native of the South, with deep Southern roots. I was born in Texas (slave state) to a mother from North Carolina (slave state) and a father from Georgia (slave state). I was raised below the Mason-Dixon line in Maryland (slave state).
The year I was born (1969), my father taught at an all-white private high school in Houston. The Civil Rights era raged. When the headmaster refused to desegregate the school, my father was part of a faculty exodus. My folks found a Maryland school that did not discriminate, and went to teach there. They raised me to believe in equality. But looking back through the history of the country, the full story of my family and race is a terrible thing: the Richardsons owned slaves for generations, and I can document it.
My dad was a Civil War buff. When I was a child, he told me many things about it, including: 1) there were Richardsons on both sides of the war, and 2) the Southern, slave-owning Richardsons were angry when their slaves were freed.
Twelve photos representing seven dogs and one Great Lake. The past few years, whenever someone’s dog is in the water, I ask if I can take underwater pictures of it. Sometimes they work out, sometimes they don’t. Here’s the best ones, including three dogs of winter.
