Preface
The is history my father wrote of the great famine as he experienced it and recorded in his diary. Here and there, he makes references to things from the Before Time which may not make sense to today's readers. In these instances, I have added my own explanatory notes in [ ].
***
December 1, 2027 - Manatee Springs, Florida
It's been almost a year since this all started. The sky is a little less gray and it is not so cold. It is a lot cooler than I remember Florida being at this time of year. It gets below freezing a night, and we've been chopping a lot of firewood to stay warm. It looks like we'll be eating a lot of fish to get through the winter, but in the spring, we can try planting corn. Corn and potatoes will give us plenty of calories. A few dozen of our men have moved to Cedar Key to the winter to catch fish while another contingent brings most of the catch by bicycle or horse-drawn cart to our main settlement. The other day, a large group of manatees swam into the spring to rest in the warmer water. It was too much of a temptation, though I tried to explain that despite their appearance, manatees don't have much meat or fat on them. I persuaded them to only kill a few of the biggest ones. The rest swam away after the first spears found their mark. I doubt the manatees will return here any time soon.
A few babies have died. None of them have been vaccinated. Since we can't get vaccines, the best we can do is make soap. I don't know much about it other than if you boil a mixture of ashes and animal fat, you will get something like soap. Fortunately, we were able to scavenge plenty of soap in Chiefland. Mark Twain [a famous writer from the Before Time] said that soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre, but are deadlier in the long run. The other project we have is making chainmail armor, mostly from copper wire salvaged from hardware stores. It's not as hard as steel, but it's lighter and easier to work. Something is better than nothing. We can't let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Given the weather, I don't think we have to worry much about being attacked by hostile tribes. Everyone else like us will be hunkering down for the winter. Some have suggested trying to get power from the solar farm outside Chiefland. It's an interesting idea. If we could charge golf carts there somehow, it would make our lives easier.
There is also talk of expanding to Cedar Key, though I'm not sure how we'd get enough drinking water. The risk of hurricanes is also a problem. In the long run, we need to get back to farming and preserving food. We'll be slaughtering some of our livestock for meat to get through the winter, but we can't afford to eat all of them. I've been encouraging people to eat fish, eggs, and cheese. Potatoes have been our staple, and we were lucky to have a good harvest before the first frost came. I could tell people are nervous and unhappy, so to shake things up, I called an election. I lost it narrowly to a man who calls himself Lord Humungous. True to his name, he is an imposing figure with a deep, booming voice. People always revert to their caveman instincts. Rather than linger around the spring and sulk about my defeat, I decided to join our fishermen at Cedar Key.
There is an easy camaraderie there. Sometimes I fish from the pier or gather clams from the shallows. Other times, I venture out in a kayak. In the evenings, we dine well on a portion of the day's catch. The rest gets taken back to feed the others at the spring. In the mornings, we lick dew or frost to get enough water. Plenty collects on the windows of abandoned cars. We've also set out buckets and pans to collect rainwater. It'd be better to have a well, but we have enough to survive here. I thought that I might try catching sharks, not just for food, but to build up my reputation. I made a kind of rattle that I shake in the water to attract them. Another fisherman waits nearby to help kill the shark. The system worked well. The two of us caught 10-foot-long bull shark. I remembered reading you have to boil shark meat to get the urea out, but we ate the liver raw just like killer whales do. We both made impressive looking necklaces out of the beast's teeth. Others have followed our example, and now we have a subculture of shark hunters.
Not to be outdone, Lord Humungous has led a few successful gator hunts. There are gator warning signs from the Before Time around the spring, but gators by and large avoid people. So he and his inner circle now sport necklaces of gator teeth. The gator leather makes excellent armor, and is lightweight. We could also make boiled leather armor from slaughtered cattle, but that project must wait until our herds are larger. Sharkskin also makes decent leather, and we have been experimenting with that. Otherwise, people have been occupying themselves by making bows and arrows and practicing archery, sometimes on horseback. I like the idea of our tribe being like modern day Mongols and me as Genghis Khan [a great warlord from the Before Time], but for now, I must submit to the leadership of Lord Humungous. Interestingly enough, he invites me to his council meetings from time to time. It's nice to know that rather than viewing me as a rival, he respects my advice. I wonder if he will give up power willingly when his time comes.
I took a break from fishing to lead some of our smarter and better educated tribesmen to the Chiefland Astronomy Village. I don't know how to work any of the abandoned telescopes, but there are plenty to choose from, and we will need to chart the stars to get a calendar going again. I've been keeping track of the days as best I can, but odds are that I've miscounted here and there. They took some of the smaller telescopes from the abandoned museum back to the spring. The abandoned buildings and mobile homes at the village would make decent shelter for anyone who wants to be near the spring but a comfortable distance away from all the drama there.
January 1, 2028 - Cedar Key, Florida
There is growing discontent with the leadership of Lord Humungous, but no one wants to challenge him directly, least of all me. The last thing our tribe needs is a fight that splits us. Most of the unhappy people, particularly the younger men, have migrated here to make a living from the sea. I've been told that Lord Humungous has started his own pagan cult that uses an alligator skull as a totem. Well, two can play at that game. I made a goal of catching a killer whale and making a shrine from its skull, which sort of looks like an gator skull but is a lot bigger. Go big or go home, as the old saying goes. We don't even need to venture that far from shore to find or catch one. All of us who've spent a lot of time on the water are familiar with the sight of whale spouts. The whales and dolphins tend to be naturally curious as well. I regret killing one in order to settle a petty rivalry, but the meat will feed many for months in addition to the prestige I gained.
There was also the matter of how the nature-worshipping pagans would react. I had to be careful not to offend them. I gathered a crew and made some harpoons. My plan was to chase the creature with several boats and jab it with at least two harpoons attached by ropes to our boats. As the orca dragged us through the water, it would inevitably tire and die of exhaustion. We could then safely tow it back to shore, butcher it, and have a great feast. But before that, we would display the slain creature and make a ceremony of thanking it for giving its life that we may eat. I thought that would be enough to pacify the pagans. All of them were hunters too, but until now, manatees and other sea life, particularly mammals, were seen as taboo. The experience of eating the aquarium fish in Atlanta was deeply traumatic for many. For similar reasons, people were very sensitive about the idea of eating dogs, cats, or horses, even though some of them had.
The sea was a bit choppy on the day of the hunt as we launched our boats into the gulf. After a few hours, we spotted a small pod of orcas led by a sole male. The whale was a majestic sight. His tall dorsal cut through the water with power and grace as we drew closer. I was on the tiller of the skiff with ten men rowing and one at the prow with the harpoon. When the first harpoon hit, the whale dove and swam at top speed for several minutes. We were pulled with such force that we nearly capsized as the bow churned the sea into white foam. The other boat with us raced to keep pace alongside the whale from a distance. At last, the orca surfaced to breathe; its spout was bloody. The marksman in the other boat threw his harpoon, and when it struck, the whale let out a moaning yelp. I'll never forget that sound, and I'll never go on another whale hunt. I was angry at myself that I'd made such a majestic animal suffer for petty reasons. That anger turned to Lord Humungous.
We towed the mighty whale back to shore. There was already a crowd on the beach anticipating our arrival. Dozens of men had to push with all their might to position its carcass on the beach. I knelt before the whale and placed my hand on its head. I couldn't think of any respectable words to say, so I paused for a moment of silence. Many others said goodbye to the orca in a likewise manner as we prepared a bonfire. The men who threw the harpoons were given the honor of making the first cuts. That whale fed about 200 hundred people for over a week, and there was still meat leftover. We preserved the skull in a separate shrine and made kind of a rock garden out of the rest of its skeleton. I told the two men who threw the harpoons that they could each take a tooth to make a necklace. They are now some of the most respected men of the tribe.
I suggested that we should have another hunt next year, but that I would not take part. Clearly there would be others who would want the honor of hunting a whale. I suggested a limit of one whale per year, and there was a consensus on that. We must not take too much from the sea. Those in wish of a respectable challenge can catch sharks. There are plenty of them about. Caveman politics won out again. Whoever can kill the biggest animal gets to be in charge. Now I have a coalition of whale and shark hunters who will stand by me. I plan on staying here for a while to build up this settlement. Although fresh water is scarce, the ocean is a much better food source than the spring or the river. Still, if a hurricane comes, we'd have to abandon everything we built here, as it would surely be destroyed by the wind and the waves.
My thoughts turn to the best way of confronting Lord Humungous. I'm tempted to have my men haul the orca skull in front of him. Then I'd point at it and say "mine's bigger", but I need something more artful than that. For now, I will keep mum and let word of the deed spread on its own. As for more practical matters, we should try to scavenge fertilizer and pesticide from the farming supply stores in town. We might as well use it now as there won't be any more of it for the foreseeable future, and it is unlikely to have been looted. Anyway, I'm glad I found a side quest to divert excess male energy from something more disruptive and counterproductive.
No comments:
Post a Comment