The Western Texan (Snyder, Tex.), Vol. 13, No. 11, Ed. 1 Thursday, April 26, 1984 Page: 5 of 16
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Thursday, April 26, 1984 — THE WESTERN TEXAN — Page 5
Attendance pleases Hood■
Students boost auction profits
by Lynn Quiros
Phi Theta Kappa held it's
fourth annual Faculty Auction
April 17. Fifty-two members
attended the event.
"Just about everybody,
with the exception of a few
faculty members I didn't get to
ask, participated in the
event." Mary Hood, PTK
sponsor said.
Hood was pleased with the
student body attendance. "It's
always interesting to see the
students get involved," she
said.
The purpose of the auction
was to give the students an op-
portunity to meet the faculty
and vice-versa. Also, this
event helped PTK to raise
money to attend the Honors
Institute in Gulf Port,MS this
summer. Over $500 were raised.
"All the things the students
bought were something that
could be useful to them,"
Hood said. "Nothing that was
purchased was a gag gift."
Jerry Baird was the an-
nouncer for the faculty auc-
tion. "We appreciate Jerry's
help," Hood said.
Association elects officers
Faculty Association
members elected officers and
committee chairpersons for
1984-85 last week.
Dr. Joe Reaves, psychology
professor, heads the associa-
tion. Vice-president is Jim
Rambo, speech/drama
associate professor.
Judy Border, cosmetology
assistant professor, serves as
secretary.
Committee chairpersons
elected are John Gibson, art
assistant professor, stipend;
Elsie Anderson, mathematics
assistant professor, academic
affairs and Bob Doty,
agriculture assistant professor,
professional evaluation.
Others include Ray Rob-
bins, law enforcement pro-
fessor, faculty welfare and
Jerry Corkran, developmental
reading center associate pro-
fessor and director, nomina-
tions and elections.
The social committee con-
sists of Jane Womack, music
assistant professor; Marilyn
Lancaster, developmental
studies English assistant pro-
fessor; Mike Otto, science
assistant professor and Robert
Adams, history/government
assistant professor.
The group voted on the 1984
Outstanding Male and Female
student. The winners will be
announced today at the
Awards Day presentation.
Womack, out-going presi-
dent, thanked the association
for their help and input during
her term.
SOLD!—During the PTK faculty auction April 17 students
bought personnel donations. Tina Gordon puts in her bid.
-Kevin Starnesphoto
111
11
111
TRAVEL: 084 - TBA - DUNNAM, J
Tugboat voyage provides gulf scenery;
cajun catches seagull for crew's dinner
Call me Ishamel.
The ideal way to travel, I
decided, would be to get paid
for doing it. If I could learn a
trade in the process, that
would be even better. Joining
the Navy seemed a bit drastic,
and whaling missions have
fallen out of fashion this cen-
tury. The best I could do was
sign on with the crew of the
"White Castle," an ancient
but seaworthy tug boat that
calls Houston its port-of-call.
Decking is not one of your
more lofty professions, but the
pay is adaquate and it is a
great way to get a tan. The
captain and pilot piloted the
boat, the cook cooked and
took care of the linen. We
deckhands did everthing else.
After learning a few knots and
have toughened up to the
winch line, it is not bad
work...if you are into
physical.
The key to surviving to en-
joy the scenery is a sense of
balance and a sense of humor.
Both are essential for well be-
ing of body and mind.
I learned that what the
White Castle did was called
tramping. We took whatever
towing jobs we could get and
went where we had to, within
the limits of the boat.
After a week of breaking
our backs in the waters around
the port, I was happy to learn
we would have a couple of
easy days on a run to Corpus
Christi. I thought I was finally
going to get to do what I sign-
ed on to do - travel.
The first day was a dream, I
slept most of it. On the second
day I began my watch at 6
a.m. and after a hearty
breakfast, I sunned myself on
the deck and took in the sights
of the rugged Texas coast.
Any other fool could have
seen that things were going too
good to last. The early morn-
ing fog had failed to
materialize and the elderly
boat was giving us a reprieve
from her assorted mechanical
ailments.
I was busy tossing breakfast
scraps up to the seagulls when
the other deckhand joined me
on the stern. He was a slim
chap, about 20 and had some
strange habits. Foremost was
his passion for climbing on top
of the pilot house and moon-
ing every fisherman or tourist
who happened to be on the
banks.
I should have mentioned
before that he was a cajun. His
feet were always bare and his
head was barren of all ideas
associated with normal peo-
ple.
Historians say cajuns are a
group of people who live in
southern Louisiana and have
ancesters in Arcadia. I believe
this one evolved from a swamp
after some nuclear waste was
illegally dumped.
"I betcha I can catch one of
those gulls," he said in that
frenchy kind of talk the cajuns
pass off for English.
With a rod and reel baited
with a soggy bisquit, he did
just that. As he expertly reeled
it in 1 inquired as to what he
intended to do with it.
"Give it to the cook."
The entire boat shook with
this announcement. A West
Texas rattlesnake is nothing
compared to a riled tug boat
cook. Nobody intentionally
stirs the wrath of one of these
master chefs. That is, nobody
but this particular cajun.
I had to turn away as he
pounded the poor bird against
a steel railing. Then he wrap-
ped the bloody carcass in
white butcher paper and plac-
ed it in the freezer.
I retired to my bunk to muse
the coming storm.
The cook found the bird as
soon as he began preparing
lunch. "If those idiots want a
skinny, garbage eating seagull
for lunch, it's my job to cook
it," he decided and dropped
the bird, feathers and all into a
pot of water.
"It be dinner time," the ca-
jun hollered at noon. I pulled
up a chair at the huge wooden
table in the galley, seduced by
the calm into thinking that the
fowl deed of the morning was
as yet undetected.
The pilot came in, tired and
hungry after a full morning of
steering. "Uhmmm, what's
cooking. Smells funny." He
pulled the lid off the pot for a
closer look.
The revived and very angry
seagull lunged at his face. He
fell backwards on to the floor,
the pot of hot water landing in
his lap. The gull, half blind
from the beating, flew fran-
tically around the galley,
thrashing and clawine and sl-
inging a bad case of diarrhea
all over everyone and the
heretofore, spotless kitchen.
The wounded bird finally
found an exit and we were
coming out from under the
table when we heard scream-
ing coming from the direction
of the head, the boat's
bathroom. The huge figure of
the captain soon appeared in
the doorway of the galley. He
was holding up his pants with
one hand and gesturing wildly
with the other. What had hap-
pened was written in vivid,
dripping colors on his bare,
brawny chest.
"You ain't gonna believe
this," he shouted, "but a
seagull attacked me."
As he surveyed the scene
before him, the look of terror
faded from his face and was
replaced by a stern gaze
directed, instinctively, at the
cajun. The cajun pointed at
the pilot who pointed at the
cook who broke the silence
with a peal of laughter.
The rest of the day was
spent scrubbing down the
galley and munching on sand-
wiches. So much for scenery
that trip.
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Harris, Jana. The Western Texan (Snyder, Tex.), Vol. 13, No. 11, Ed. 1 Thursday, April 26, 1984, newspaper, April 26, 1984; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1666476/m1/5/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Western Texas College Library.