Peak of the Devil: Part One

The first mention I saw of the Deepwater Horizon’s demise was a small item on The Drudge Report, probably the day after it happened, April 21st. I remember I wrote down the date it blew up, April 20th, on a piece of paper, in case I needed to know it later. It seemed curiously important at the time, although, from that first article, you might not have known it at the time.

About two weeks later, as it all began to unfold, I pedaled down to the beach and collected some sand in a jar. The following Monday I gave this letter to the local newspaper:

Editor:

I’ve buried both parents and I buried my dog. I’ve said goodbye to people I didn’t want to leave and I’ve left places when I didn’t want to go. Last Sunday morning I pedaled my bicycle to Clearwater Beach and locked it up at Pier 60. I walked out on the sand south of the pier and filled a small jar with pure, perfect, brilliant white sand. I put the jar back in my pack and pedaled home. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever done.

I know all things change, but to see all of this change for the worse, for nothing less than laziness and greed, is an astounding disappointment and a thorough condemnation of our misguided priorities. I won’t say I didn’t look back. The view from the top of the bridge is still beautiful - but for how much longer? A week? A month?

The sinking of the Deepwater Horizon has become an event horizon in its own right. Will the oil reach the beach? Or is it simply a matter of when? In a jar on my workbench, next to all of the jars of bicycle parts, is a jar of pure, perfect, brilliant white sand from Clearwater Beach. I want to remember it all as it was, and as I hope it will be. I will save what I saved, seeing as how we aren’t smart enough to protect the rest of it.

That jar of pure white sand is still right there on my workbench, labeled “Clearwater Beach, May 2, 2010”. And for now, over two months later, the beach is still ok. However: If you look at a map of Florida and the Gulf of Mexico, you can see that the part of western Florida that sticks out in to the Gulf the most is, in fact, Clearwater Beach. The same Gulf currents that give us that beautiful sand will also send us that ugly oil. It’s only a matter of time. At least my sand is safe.

We’re used to watching hurricanes as they slowly roll across the ocean and there’s not a thing you can do about them. This is a lot like that, but unlike hurricanes, this is entirely our own fault. We can’t blame Mother Nature for this one.

Stay tuned.