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The Gull
Super Nomad
Posts: 2223
Registered: 8-28-2003
Location: Rancho Descanso, BCN
Member Is Offline
Mood: High
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Lunch with Mike
I had lunch with Mike the day he heard that the new BOLA house sale was closed. He was chocked full of spirit and energy in anticipation of leaving
JPL and living his dream.
Best memory one can have of a BajaNomad.
�I won\'t insult your intelligence by suggesting that you really believe what you just said.� William F. Buckley, Jr.
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Santiago
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3501
Registered: 8-27-2003
Member Is Offline
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Lest we forget: From time-to-time I will post one of Mike's stories that have hit a nerve or someone else has mentioned to me. This one he named
"Bredan's Story"....enjoy
They were camped at Camp Gecko for two weeks. The man and his wife and two grown boys; a family friend and her son, Brendan, 8. The heat was intense,
well over the hundred degree mark daily, the sun pounding the sand more fiercely than the surf. They were sitting in front of their palapa near the
beach. A flock of cawking gulls and a number of brown pelicans stood along the shore, facing into the breeze. A set of four Oystercatchers, bright
beaks against dark bodies, settled with the other birds. They stood aside, didn't mingle with the others, rather kept within their own band. The boy
pointed out the four birds to the group. The man picked up a camera; he had never seen Oystercatchers in the Bahia de Los Angeles before. "Come on
Brendan." he said to the boy.
They moved toward the birds, some thirty yards distant. The man moved behind a beached boat to avoid frightening the birds. He and Brendan ducked
low and as they emerged from behind the boat, then dropped to the sand on their bellies. The birds saw them crawling forward but were unthreatened.
The pair inched forward toward the Oystercatchers, forcing themselves forward through the sand with their elbows, knees and feet, moving ever so
slowly. The birds were now twenty feet in front of them. The man indicated to Brendan that they should not make a sound. The boy signaled back the
sign he would use when he wanted to borrow the man's camera to take a picture.
It took them 10 silent and slow minutes to crawl forward to a position where they were both about six feet from the birds. The man took several
pictures. The boy tapped the man's leg when he was ready and received the camera silently, took several pictures himself. The birds were curious about
the event, but didn't seem to mind the proximity of the two quiet humans in their presence. Then they lost interest and merged with the other birds, a
few yards away. Brendan and the man stood and returned to their camp and families. "That was fun!" he said. "That was teamwork." the man replied.
Later that day the man took the boy out in his boat, a small tin fourteen-footer with an outboard. The boy wanted to fish. They went to a place a
few miles out, between the north point of Piojo and the south point of Smith's and dropped baited jigs into the hundred foot depths. The man showed
the boy how to let the line out until the lure hit bottom, bring it in a bit to keep it off the rocks and then wait. Within seconds the boy had a
hookup. The man guided the boy's retrieval and Brendan soon had a four-pound jawfish nearing the surface.
"Now what?" he asked.
"Bring the line over to me." the man said. "Don't reel the line in too tight. Leave me some slack." He pulled the fish aboard, unhooked it, held
it up for the boy to admire, then tossed it to the rear of the boat.
"Teamwork." the man said.
They fished another hour, the man and the boy. Brendan caught six or eight more jawfish, two cabrillas and a trigger, was tired from reeling them
in, his small hands struggling to turn the spool, his arms rubbing against his life jacket, the sun wearing the boy down.
"Let me know if you need help." the man said. The boy continued, tired but unwilling to relinquish the rod.
"I think I can do it," he said.
"Just remember we're a team. I'm here to help if you need me."
So Brendan brought in all his own fish, and several the man had hooked. When they fired up and headed back to camp the man saw a shine in the
boys' eyes that he recognized as pride. The boy had accomplished a small unimaginable feat.
They arrived at camp and threw the fish on the sand, carted them up to the cleaning table, protected from the sun with a small thatched cover. The
table was tall, designed to fit the height of a man standing. The man placed the fish on the table, found his filet knife, noticed that the boy was
not able to see the working platform.
"Stand here, Brendan." the man said, pointing to an old fuel tank positioned beside the table. The boy climbed onto the tank and was now level
with the man. The man filleted the first fish, began the second.
"What's my job?" the boy asked, "we're a team, aren't we?"
The mans knife paused only briefly as he absorbed, recognized the boys desire to support his efforts, to be a member amidst others. It was an
overwhelming moment for the man, but he showed little, wanting the boy to be proud of his own action rather than to have made another happy.
"Feel like getting dirty?" the man asked.
"What do I do?" Brendan replied.
"Here," the man pointed to the building pile of guts, lying beside the soft flesh of the fish, "Give these to the birds."
The boy tentatively picked up a liver with two nervous fingers, stepped off the tank on which he had been standing, and walked toward the building
attack of seagulls and pelicans along the shore. He threw the liver into their midst and a great feathered flurry commenced that built as Brendan
retrieved and threw fishguts to the growing throng of birds. By the time the last gut hit the beach, the boy's hands, arms and legs were covered in
blood. He had no care except for the activity at hand.
The man and the boy washed and bagged the fish, cleaned the table, sheaved the knife, and carted the bags to icechests for dinner later that day.
"Thanks for taking me fishing." the boy said.
"My pleasure." the man responded with no further words.
What good were words at a moment like that? he wondered. His heart felt the warm moments with the boy, pulled thoughts of his own children forward
for perhaps a final time, from so long back over a twisted trail of years to the times when he had carried his boys forward through another adventure,
had shown them something new, unexpected; when they had piloted the boat for the first time, caught their first fish, found their way home from miles
out in the gulf in rough weather.
We are a team, he thought. He walked down to the shoreline, threw water on his face, walked back into camp. "Here, honey." his wife called,
tossing him a towel to dry his face. She knew his was a clever ruse to camouflage the fact that tears had dampened his eyes. Thanks for the memories,
Brendan, the man thought, to himself, it truly was his pleasure.
And thank you, Mike, for my own memories.
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64545
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Brendan at BBBB-4... Maybe the time he met Mike (9-2002)?
Thanks for posting one of Mike's finest stories Jim!
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Skipjack Joe
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8084
Registered: 7-12-2004
Location: Bahia Asuncion
Member Is Offline
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Thank you for posting that Santiago. I agree, that was one of Mike's best. A bit sentimental at the very end but I think that's the way Mike saw
things in general. I like that the story is understated. That's how men and boys, I am discovering, relate to one another.
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synch
Nomad
Posts: 316
Registered: 9-14-2004
Member Is Offline
Mood: wandering...
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| Quote: | Originally posted by Paulina
Our family is very sorry to hear this being confirmed. Very sad indeed. Mike will be missed, "terribly" says our daughter Cody.
Mary Ann, you and the boys are in our hearts and prayers. If there's anything we can do for you, let us know.
Paulina y Dern y Cody |
Great photo.
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burritomama
Junior Nomad
Posts: 72
Registered: 12-3-2003
Location: aztlan
Member Is Offline
Mood: asi asi
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I've been off the board for months dealing with life as we know it here in So Cal (much personal sadness this year in our family) - just checked in
before we packed up to go to BOLA for Christmas and found this sad news.
We met Mike a couple years ago at the urging of our friend Marla and admired his spirit however briefly in Baja (a chunk of one afternoon) - and, of
course, at more length on this board.
Condolences to the family.
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Lindalou
Senior Nomad
Posts: 623
Registered: 1-12-2004
Location: Punta Banda Baja
Member Is Offline
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Have not been able to get to this board for several months. I am so sad, and shocked to here this sad, sad news. My thoughts are with his family
during this vary hard time for them. I will miss his writhings on the board, I always looked for them.
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marla
Nomad
Posts: 287
Registered: 10-29-2003
Location: Long Beach
Member Is Offline
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I haven't been on the board for awhile, so Burritomama just alerted me to this news. I am sad that the world has lost such a unique man but it is
richer for his presence here as long as he was alive. I am very glad I had the chance to meet him and experience his kindness and hear his many
fascinating stories about Baja. I guess I always figured since he drove like a maniac that the Baja Highway would take him out someday, but I'm glad
he did not have to suffer a lingering illness. I will drive a cerveza tonight in his honor and I'm sorry I was too late for any other memorial.
If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a
speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen. Henry David
Thoreau
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64545
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Marla, I remember you were so very kind to Mike in the time you took to read his original manuscript and offer suggetions to improve his future book.
I know that Mike really appreciated the time you took and respected your advice as a journalist.
I hope you and your children have a wonderful and merry Christmas... Tell them 'Uncle Baja' says hello... I hope to see them and you again soon!
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64545
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Stand by for a message from Mary Ann Humfreville that she has asked me to post...
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vgabndo
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3461
Registered: 12-8-2003
Location: Mt. Shasta, CA
Member Is Offline
Mood: Checking-off my bucket list.
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I stopped on my way south this year and bought Mike's book.
Once we had arrived at our little hut in the palms near the sea and I had come to expect the owls at night and the burro's bray, and my bed was in
fact my bed, I spent several facinated nights getting to know Mike, May Ann and the kids as they grew up together during their time near the volcano.
What a neat guy. I'm sorry we lost him too soon, but what a pleasure to know his satisfaction in his family and that he wrote so much to share with
us.
After reading his book, two truisms have been added to my subjective intrepretation of Baja. A general concept that "nothing goes to waste in Baja",
and somewhat tied to that, the idea that only a wild creature at some disadvantage will allow close contact with humans.
When I took the picture below, and every time I've looked at it since, I've thought of Mike and thought that had he been there we'd have seen the
gull's damaged wing and had a silent understanding.
[Edited on 1-19-2007 by vgabndo]
Undoubtedly, there are people who cannot afford to give the anchor of sanity even the slightest tug. Sam Harris
"The situation is far too dire for pessimism."
Bill Kauth
Carl Sagan said, "We are a way for the cosmos to know itself."
PEACE, LOVE AND FISH TACOS
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Baja Bernie
`Normal` Nomad Correspondent
Posts: 2962
Registered: 8-31-2003
Location: Sunset Beach
Member Is Offline
Mood: Just dancing through life
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Perry
Absolutely beautiful tribute! The picture does say it all.
My smidgen of a claim to fame is that I have had so many really good friends. By Bernie Swaim December 2007
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64545
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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From Mary Ann Humfreville...
Kevin, Mike and Mary Ann would like you to join them in celebrating Michael's life. As you know, he passed away on 11/5/06 in his beloved Baja and
was buried in the Bahia de Los Angeles cemetary.
We all know what a great storyteller Michael was. Now it's your turn to come forward and share your stories, anecdotes and pictures.
This great gathering of amigos will be held on Feb. 10 at 2 p.m. at Barsam and Marlene Diradoorian's home at 438 W. Kenneth Road, Glendale, CA 91202.
Please R.S.V.P. Mary Ann at mahumfreville@hotmail.com with the number of people coming. We hope to see Nomad's represented well.
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marla
Nomad
Posts: 287
Registered: 10-29-2003
Location: Long Beach
Member Is Offline
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Well now I might have to work tomorrow and might not be able to come, if not I will be there in spirit!
If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a
speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen. Henry David
Thoreau
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Neal Cox
Newbie
Posts: 21
Registered: 8-28-2003
Member Is Offline
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Have not logged in for a couple of years. So sorry to hear about Mike Humfreville. I alway enjoyed his posts. Never met him, but did exchange an
email or two. Peace be with you, Mike. Neal
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