{"id":27738,"date":"2026-06-28T21:09:12","date_gmt":"2026-06-28T21:09:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/?p=27738"},"modified":"2026-06-28T21:15:28","modified_gmt":"2026-06-28T21:15:28","slug":"on-finding-closure-when-things-dont-turn-out-as-planned","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/?p=27738","title":{"rendered":"On finding closure when things don’t turn out as planned…"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

*   *   *   *<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Something<\/strong> of what it’s like to start a canoe trip 12 miles off the coast of Mississippi…<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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Welcome to the \u201cGeorgia Wasp\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/h1>\n\n\n\n

This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite<\/em>. That was an old-time newspaper<\/a> \u2013 more like a personal newsletter<\/a> \u2013 written and published by Harry Golden<\/a>. Back in the 1950s<\/a>, people called Harry a \u201cvoice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.\u201d (For his work on the Israelite<\/a>.)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s now my goal as well. To be a \u201cvoice of sanity amid the braying of jackals<\/em><\/strong>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the meantim<\/strong><\/em>e<\/em>:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

June 28, 2026 – My last two posts talked about two-week mid-May road trip in Ireland. I plan to do more on the part of the trip where we finally get a rental and leave Dublin, after our first three days, but it takes time to get things just<\/em> right. (Hopefully for another travel book I hope to write in the not-too-distant future.) But because I last posted on June 14, and because it may be another week or two to do another good Ireland post, I now offer a fill-in blast from the past<\/a>. (As in, a <\/strong>striking reminder of an earlier time or “something that excites nostalgia.”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back in 2012 my brother Tom had a bright idea for a long canoe trip. Starting in Natchitoches in Louisiana, he’d paddle down the Red River to the Mississippi, and from there paddle down to a place where he could bayou-and-portage over to Lake Ponchartrain. Then he planned to paddle across that huge lake to New Orleans. From there he\u2019d paddle to and through the Rigolets<\/a> (RIG-uh-leez), an eight-mile channel out to the Gulf of Mexico. But wait, there\u2019s more!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once out through the Rigolets he planned to paddle 12 miles out into the Gulf of Mexico. From there he\u2019d paddle the route French explorers used to bring their trading-furs to present-day Biloxi. (Back then known as \u201cFort Maurepas.\u201d See Fort Maurepas \u2013 Wikipedia<\/a>.) Meaning that once through the Rigolets, he\u2019d have eight days of paddling and primitive-camping \u2013 \u201cdig a hole and squat\u201d \u2013 on various islands and an occasional salt marsh out there. That led to my first thought on hearing the plan: \u201cAre you crazy? 12 miles out?\u201d But alas\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tom invited our brother Bill and me to join him but we both begged off. Then that 2012 attempt got cut short by a warning \u2013 a hurricane or tropical storm \u2013 and the family breathed a collective sigh of relief. (\u201c12 miles out? Really?\u201d) But he wanted to try again, and in 2013 invited me to join him. This time I accepted. (With trepidation.) But this trip too got cut short. At first by strong headwinds; strong enough we only got to a marina near the start <\/em>of the Rigolets \u2013 and by another warning, from Tropical Storm Karen. (A side note: My first wife was a Karen. She died in 2006, so I figured her spirit was looking out for me. Either that or fixing to kick my ass.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, on the third try in 2014 Tom and I actually did the eight days of canoeing out to some offshore islands in the Gulf of Mexico. Those islands \u2013 10 or 12 miles offshore \u2013 included Half-moon Island, Cat Island and the Ship Island<\/a>s.  (I.e., both East and West Ship Island.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unfortunately, the end of the trip didn\u2019t go as we planned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That November 12, 2014, we got up at 2:00 a.m. and hit the water at 3:00 a.m. (We had camping lights attached to the bill of our ball caps, to help us break camp in the dark.) Our goal was the Beau Rivage<\/em> Casino and Hotel.  We could see it shimmering brightly on the horizon, nine miles away over the open water from East Ship Island. Things went well until somewhere around 5:30, when a storm started threatening from the north earlier than expected. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The forecast had <\/em>called for heavy storms coming in later that afternoon and continuing into the next day. That was why we had to make Biloxi that<\/em> day. The alternative was spending two or three more days away from the comforts of civilization<\/em>, like running water and not having to \u201cdig a hole.\u201d (And included huddling in our tents on East Ship Island two or three more days\u2026)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was no real danger, yet<\/em>. But all of a sudden there was no horizon<\/em><\/strong> either. A heavy fog settled in between us and somehow, in the gathering dark greyness, with no horizon, we two intrepid canoeists had gotten separated. Actually, that happened earlier when I looked around in the black of night for my brother\u2019s \u201cbeacon,\u201d his camping light. That’s when I learned that six or seven miles offshore, in the dark of night, those camping lights<\/em> weren\u2019t all that helpful. As I peered out into the bleak blackness, the light from my brother\u2019s cap \u2013 wherever he was \u2013 pretty much blended in with all the other navigation lights, the ones you could see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, about 5:40 a.m. – still no horizon – I started drift-paddling toward a piling with a bright red flashing beacon at the top. I figured I\u2019d get there and wait for the sun to come up and burn off the fog.  (The fog-haze that blur-erased the horizon so well.) I wanted to get to the pole, but not too soon. I didn\u2019t want to be seen clinging to the buoy like some decrepit old guy with no business out there at that time o\u2019 day.<\/strong><\/em> Also, the waves were rolling pretty well, which meant it would be quite an effort to hang on to the pole by myself. Or if I tied the canoe to the pole, the rocking waves might toss the canoe up and down – and likely snap the connecting rope. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, I wasn\u2019t in too<\/em> much of a hurry, waiting for the sun to come up. Besides, I rather enjoyed the sense of being gently rocked, alone, out where no one else in his right mind would ever be<\/em>. But my reverie ended when I saw a boat some distance away, near the edge of my narrow horizon. It traveled fast at a right angle, and after a bit I noticed flashing blue lights. Then \u2013 after another bit of time passed \u2013 it swerved and made a beeline, straight toward me and my canoe\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To make a long story short, my brother had ended up calling 911.  (On his cell phone.  This was after he tried to call me on my<\/em><\/strong> cell phone.  My<\/em> cell phone was safely tucked away in a dry bag<\/a>, somewhere in the bowels of my canoe.  And it wasn\u2019t turned on, for the simple reason that for most of the eight days out, there was no cell-phone reception.  Go figure<\/em>.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bottom line: We finished having to get picked up by a boat from the Biloxi Marine Patrol\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ever since it stuck in my craw<\/em> that we didn\u2019t do the whole eight days on our own power. (To stick in one\u2019s craw<\/em> refers to something that causes one \u201cto feel abiding discontent and resentment,\u201d based in turn on something you \u201ccannot swallow, based on the literal meaning of craw<\/em> (the throat of a bird).\u201d See stick in craw \u2013 Idioms by The Free Dictionary<\/a>.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which brings up closure<\/a>, the act of “bringing an unpleasant situation, time, or experience to an end, so that you are able to start new activities.” My first try came on Monday morning, February 9, 2015. The night before I got a room at the Motel 6 on Beach Boulevard, four-tenths of a mile west of the Mississippi Coast Coliseum<\/a>. I woke up at 5:49 \u2013 4:49 Central Time \u2013 and found a 24-hour IHOP right down the road, for a carb-heavy breakfast. Then carried my kayak across Beach Boulevard, over and across the long beach itself. It was still dark when I started paddling out, just like on that morning of November 12, 2014.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After leaving the beach across from my motel, I paddled out and passed the Old Harbor jetty to my left, close to the \u201cBroadwater Harbor AR\u201d (artificial reef). Not to mention the Coliseum Pier<\/a>. I\u2019m guessing I paddled two miles out in the first hour and six minutes of my mission. When I set out the Gulf was smooth as a baby\u2019s bottom<\/a>, as it is wont to be early in the day. After getting over the fear of going off the edge of the world in the darkness (or being eaten by sharks) I settled in quite nicely. In time I got to watch the sun slowly coming up, and every once in a while I would pause, turn off my stopwatch and just enjoy the feeling \u201cof being somewhere, someplace that no one else in his right mind would ever be<\/em>.\u201d It was quite a good feeling. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In time I turned back, and found the wind and tide turning against me the closer I got to shore. I landed four-tenths of a mile short of the Motel 6 put-in, and after hours on the water got onshore and walked the canoe through the shallows. Then carried my up through the sand and and across Beach Boulevard, feeling like I\u2019d done what I\u2019d set out do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But as it turned out, I wasn’t the only one who felt the need to find closure. My brother Tom had the same “abiding discontent and resentment\u201d about how the 2014 canoe trip turned out. Which is why he planned a reprise<\/a> of sorts for April 2024. The plan?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Get to Gulfport (MS<\/a>) on Sunday the 17th, use Monday preparing to launch in Pascagoula on Tuesday, then paddle\u00a0back<\/strong><\/em>\u00a0to Gulfport. We figured: First eight miles out to Horn island, and from there the two Ship Islands \u2013 East and West \u2013 then Cat Island.* From there we\u2019d paddle back to Gulfport, arriving on Saturday, March 23.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0To clarify: The prevailing winds in that part of the coast are generally east to west. Meaning in 2014 we paddled mostly against the prevailing winds, while in 2024 we should have had the winds and waves at our back, helping push us along. “Should have.” To see the full story of how that adventure see the post “Some kind of bust?\u201d \u2013 That canoe trip after-action report<\/a>.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A heads up: That “some kind of bust” in the post-title gives a clue as to how that attempt turned out. Still, we did end up having a good time; we “made a silk purse of a sow’s ear<\/a>.” Which is pretty much the essence of “Improvise, adapt, and overcome,” the old Marine Corps motto. And Tom is an old Marine, which means “that story hasn’t been wrapped up yet.” In the meantime, “we” have a 140-mile hike starting next August, from the Hook of Holland down to Maastricht. Then <\/em><\/strong>we can get back to that 2014 Unfinished Business. “I mean, as soon as I finish this beer.” (A classic Richard Burton line from the 1962 film, The Longest Day<\/a>.<\/em> “Words to live by.”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Mergel Wit: to which “a touch of marl” has been added…<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

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The upper image is courtesy of\u00a0Offshore Canoeing Image\u00a0\u2013\u00a0Image\u00a0Results<\/a>. It came with a page, \u201cCan Canoes Go in the Ocean?\u201d The answer? \u201cYES, If You\u2019re Careful.\u201d Another hint: \u201cmost canoes can be used in the ocean but only if the weather is calm and you stay close to the shoreline.\u201d (Hmmm.) Also, \u201cOutrigger canoes [fare] much better in ocean conditions than other types of canoe simply because they have extra buoyancy and stability.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0As it turned out, the weather wasn\u2019t calm \u2013 and threatened to get worse \u2013 and we were five miles away from the \u201cshoreline.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For this I reviewed the 2015 posts, On canoeing 12 miles offshore<\/a>, and<\/em> On achieving closure<\/a><\/em> (with Achieving closure \u2013 Part II<\/a>), 2017’s Canoeing 12 miles off the coast of Mississippi<\/a>, and as noted, April 2024’s \u201cSome kind of bust?\u201d \u2013 That canoe trip after-action report<\/a>. (My caption for that post’s lead image<\/em>, “Unfortunately we\u00a0did\u00a0<\/strong>see some of this wind and wave on our recent offshore canoe trip<\/em>.”)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Re: “Silk purse.” See You Can’t Make A Silk Purse Out Of A Sow’s Ear – Meaning<\/a>, on “one of the oldest proverbs in English,” first used in 1579? The proverb originally expressed the view “that you can’t turn something which is inherently low-grade or ugly into something valuable or attractive.” But the site added that “In 1812, Sir Walter Scott wrote this in a letter:<\/em> ‘I am labouring here to contradict an old proverb, and make a silk purse out of a sow\u2019s ear.<\/em>‘”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Re: “Adapt,” etc. See Adapt, Overcome! Culture Phrase Motto<\/a> and Improvise, Adapt, Overcome: Unleash Your Inner Marine<\/a>. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the Burton beer quote – and others – see The Longest Day (1962) – Richard Burton as Flight Officer David Campbell<\/a>. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The lower image is courtesy of “beer in maastricht Images<\/a>.” It comes with a page 5 insider tips for drinking beer in Maastricht – Tasty Tales<\/a>, which I’ll revisit later this summer. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

If a regular visitor to the Western part of the Netherlands would be dropped in the far south of the province of Limburg he or she would believe to be in another country. Because here the straight and flat green meadows make way for rolling hills. And in a country where hills are a rarity we even call them mountains… But it is a beautiful part of the country where people enjoy life. And food. And beer. Because for the beer lover there is plenty to enjoy.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

So “straight and flat” and plenty of beer. Two good reasons to look ahead.<\/em> As to the beer in the photo: “The latest addition to the core range [of local beer] comes in a pretty blue bottle and is the Mergel Wit. Marl (mergel) forms the soil layer that Maastricht is built on, and this porous rock is also used to filter beer. In this case, a touch of marl has actually been added to the Wit beer.”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Re:  The Israelite<\/a>.  Harry Golden<\/a> grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina.  Thus the \u201cCarolina Israelite.\u201d  I on the other hand am a \u201cclassic 74-<\/strong>year-old \u201cWASP\u201d \u2013 White Anglo-Saxon Protestant<\/a> \u2013 and live in north Georgia.  Thus the \u201cGeorgia Wasp.\u201d    <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, in<\/strong> North Carolina Harry wrote and published the \u201cisraelite\u201d from the 1940s through the 1960s.  He was a \u201ccigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur<\/a>.\u201d  (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the \u201cIsraelite <\/strong>would be done as a blog.\u201d  But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life<\/a>.  As he got older but didn\u2019t turn sour<\/a>, like many do today.  He still got a kick out of life<\/a><\/strong>.  For more on the blog-name connection, see \u201cWasp<\/a>\u201d and\/or The blog<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

*   *   *   *<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

*   *   *   * *   *   *   * Welcome to the \u201cGeorgia Wasp\u2026\u201d This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper \u2013 more like a personal newsletter \u2013 written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a \u201cvoice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.\u201d (For his […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[11,9],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27738"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=27738"}],"version-history":[{"count":129,"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27738\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":27870,"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27738\/revisions\/27870"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=27738"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=27738"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/georgiawasp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=27738"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}