"Zen Poem," by Daniel Berrigan - ReligiousLeftLaw.com

"Zen Poem," by Daniel Berrigan - ReligiousLeftLaw.com

How I long for supernatural powers!
said the novice mournfully to the holy one.
I see a dead child
and I long to say, Arise!
I see a sick man
I long to say, Be healed!
I see a bent old woman
I long to say, Walk straight!
Alas, I feel like a dead stick in paradise.
Master, can you confer on me
supernatural powers?

The old man shook his head fretfully
How long have I been with you
and you know nothing?
How long have you known me
and learned nothing?
Listen; I have walked the earth for 80 years
I have never raised a dead child
I have never healed a sick man
I have never straightened an old woman's spine

Children die
men grow sick
the aged fall
under a stigma of frost

And what is that to you or me
but the turn of the wheel
but the way of the world
but the gateway to paradise?

Supernatural powers!
Then you would play God
would spin the thread of life and measure the thread
5 years, 50 years, 80 years
and cut the thread?

Supernatural powers!
I have wandered the earth for 80 years
I confess to you,
sprout without root
root without flower
I know nothing of supernatural powers
I have yet to perfect my natural powers!

to see and not be seduced
to hear and not be deafened
to taste and not be eaten
to touch and not be bought

But you-
would you walk on water
would you master the air
would you swallow fire?

Go talk with the dolphins
they will teach you glibly
how to grow gills

Go listen to eagles
they will hatch you, nest you
eaglet and airman

Go join the circus
those tricksters will train you
in deception for dimes-

Bird man, bag man, poor fish
spouting fire, moon crawling
at sea forever-
supernatural powers!

Do you seek miracles?
listen- go
draw water, hew wood
break stones-
how miraculous!

Listen; blessed is the one
who walks the earth 5 year, 50 years, 80 years
and deceives no one
and curses no one
and kills no one

On such a one
the angels whisper in wonder,
behold the irresistible power
of natural powers-
of height, of joy, of soul, of non belittling!

You dry stick-
in the crude soil of this world
spring, root, leaf, flower!

trace
around and around
and around-
an inch, a mile, the world's green extent,-
a liberated zone
of paradise!

TG Lurgan and Seo Linn - Avicii Vs Lurgan - "Wake Me Up" as Gaeilge

Seo Linn is the group we heard at The Battery at the 1916-2016 centennial of the Irish Easter uprising.  TG Lurgan is the lead singer here.  I heard them again at Maguires Pub on Roosevelt Avenue, Woodside, Queens.  I don't know a word of Gaelic, but the people in the crowd evidently do.

Back River Blues

"You will forever be my hero" Peter's tribute to Dad

by Peter Conk

We brought my Dad home April 1st to live out the last days of his life. Here he is doing 2 of his favorite things; reading N.Y. Times and looking out at the view from his back yard. I was able to help take care of him for the 2.5 weeks. Strong in life and death, he fed himself until his last meal. Last night his body succumbed, giving him the peace he had recently sought and deserved.
He grew up in Gerritsen Beach, a poor Irish immigrant community in Brooklyn. Worked on Brooklyn docks to put himself through Fordham University.  Served as captain of a Sub-chaser in WW II.
He was truly the leader of our family. Providing endless summer days at the beach and ocean, providing us a Catholic education, relocating to beautiful Santa Barbara and mostly being there for each of us during difficult times and moments of triumph. He loved all the family and had endless stories about everyone. In retirement he spent endless hours serving the community: city commissions, staffing homeless shelter, and for more than 20 years, up until 1.5 years ago, being a Eucharistic Minister and visiting the sick.
For all you gave us thank you. You will forever be my hero.

April 21, 2016

Saluting Dad at Castle Clinton

In 1862 Thomas Costello, at 12 the youngest of four brothers, walked from a village called Casla (Costello in English) about 12 miles west of Galway near where the ferry leaves for the Aran Islands.  He boarded a ship to join his brothers in Brooklyn.  He entered at Castle Clinton at The Battery.  He married Bridget Slattery and their daughter Teresa married George Washington Conk. 

Their son George, Jr., my father, died five days ago at the age of 96, ten years older than Thomas was when he died in 1940.  A widower, he lived his last years with his daughter,  and son in law. Twenty when Thomas died, Dad was the last person living who knew one of our many Ireland born ancestors.   

Today we celebrated Dad's life at Gigino, at Washington Park, the Battery, a stone's throw from Castle Clinton where Thomas landed.  Surrounding me are my loving wife and kids and their kids.  Thank you Marilyn, Taisy, Tasha, Annabel, Georgia, Muffy, Bradley, Sanaa, and Kyla for helping me to remember and honor my father George, and, of course, my mother Clare.

In front of Castle Clinton where, before Ellis Island was built,
our Irish ancestors entered the United States.

Dad - interested in the world til the end

Just a few days before he died, here is Dad in the bed where he passed, reading the Times and enjoying the view of the Santa Ynez mountains from Dad and Mom's house. At tha point he was only intermittently alert and clear headed - but when he was - he wanted to know what is going on in the world - and God forbid the Republicans should win.

Sailing with Dad - Father's Day 2013

My brother Peter's beautiful tribute to our father emphasizes his life of service - to family and community.  Like Peter and I he was grateful, proud, and inspired by the Jesuits who educated us to be "men and women for others".  But I want to highlight Dad's love for the sea.  In the photos in the post below, at 93 years of age he took the helm with a glint in his eye as (without glasses) he scanned the sea  with a long practiced eye. 

And it wasn't just sailing.  We also had a lapstrake 23 foot Jersey skiff - the Seven C's.  A classic bass boat built by Zobel in Sea Bright, its deep powerful bow handled the steep southerly chop of the sea outside Jones Inlet on Long Island.  
I remember Dad coming back late at night with his friend Frank Sheridan with the deck covered striped bass and an empty vodka bottle. I remember too when we took our first family vacation away from home: all seven of us on the boat for a ten day voyage to Block Island, R.I.  My parents slept in the V berth forward, Peter and I on  either side of the engine box, Nancy​ and Kathryn on the deck behind the engine box - and Steven  on top of it!

That all worked out OK until the canvas bimini and cockpit cover had to cope with a night of wind driven rain.  

We learned to steer by compass ("I said 210, look at the wake -you're all over the sea"), and to plot a course on a nautical chart with parallel ruler and divider.  And in those pre-GPS days  it was important.  I remember working our way through Plum Gut in pea soup fog, up on the bow to spot the red nun buoy that was our next waypoint on the course from Greenport to Block. 

Thanks, Dad for showing us the way.

Voyages  Sailing with Dad - Father's Day 2013

A McKenzie Cuttyhunk bass boat almost identical to the Seven C's

Spring on the Back River

We had a lovely weekend, lunch with friends at Chase's Daily in Belfast and a stroll through Front Street Shipyard;  wine and appetizers with Kat Logan and her husband boatbuilder Jim Looney - when Kat delivered her painting of our view of the Back River - which we call Heron Bend; and dinner at home with Nancy Armstrong, the new CEO of Jeff's Marine.

And my first chance to row this spring - down river a mile or so to the rocky islet we call James Landing; while Marilyn did yard work preparing the lawn and gardens for the growth season soon to start.

James Landing

Back River bay

home from the sea

the artist Kat Logan with Heron Bend behind her.

Northbound - Antartica to Africa | Issuma

Catching up | Issuma

As can happen when you are busy, Richard Hudson has let his blogging slide.  Issuma departed Ushuaia on February 21, and crossed the 400 mile notorious Drake Passage in light to moderate winds, reaching Deception Island in Antarctica February 23.  Their last post was April 6 from the Argentine research station Carlini Base.

About ten days ago they turned north.  Issuma sailed from Carlini Base, King George Island,  South Shetland Islands, Antarctica (above) to Capetown.  I'm disappointed that they didn't stop at South Georgia Island, the old Norwegian sailing station.  There Sir Ernest Shackleton is buried in Gruytviken - from which in 1917 the doomed Endurance sailed into the ice pack, and to which he returned in the 21 foot lifeboat the James Caird, after a 720 mile open boat voyage from Elephant Island not far from Issuma's Antarctic jumping off point.

Now Issuma has headed north along the west coast of Africa.  They are about to leave Luderitz, Namibia in southwest Africa. At 26 N 15E it is 36 degrees northeast of the Carlini Base (about 2,200 miles).

Mayday on the Carolina Queen - The New York Times

Mayday on the Carolina Queen - The New York Times

by Marc Santora

The seven fishermen aboard the Carolina Queen III, a 76-foot scalloping boat that set out from Norfolk, Va., had been at sea for four days when the skies darkened off the coast of the Rockaways

A powerful storm system that had already lashed the East Coast, bringing tornadoes, thunder, lightning, high winds and heavy rains, was barreling down on them. Homes had been flattened, vehicles had been tossed like Tinkertoys and trees had been ripped from their roots. At least seven people had died. The crew knew they were in for nasty weather, but they were scallopers. Weather comes with the job.

As night fell on Feb. 24, the winds started to blow across New York City. At 8:45 p.m., a large section of a facade collapsed on Fordham Street in the Bronx. At 9:19, a tractor-trailer was blown over on the upper level of the George Washington Bridge. By midnight, there were reports of downed trees and power lines around the region. 

Off the coast, winds were gusting up to 69 miles an hour, according to data collected by the National Weather Service.

The men on the Carolina Queen had a decision to make. One successful 11-day scalloping trip can pull in a profit of $500,000. Each fisherman can make $40,000 on a good voyage. The crew was open-sea fishing, about 30 miles off the coast, as the storm approached. The men decided to steer the vessel closer to shore — past a predetermined demarcation line that would stop the clock on their allotted 32-day yearly limit at sea.

The Carolina Queen had only 50 bags of scallops — 60 pounds per bag — on ice in the hold. With the scallop season drawing to a close, this trip was the crew’s last chance for a major haul. When the skies cleared, they expected, they would get back to business.

KEEP READING

But shortly after 2 a.m. on Feb. 25, the vessel, battered by wind and waves, ran aground. Soon, one of its generators failed and the Carolina Queen issued a desperate mayday, setting in motion a harrowing rescue operation.

In the next few hours, a Coast Guard boat capsized and Fire Department vessels were unable to reach the stranded scallop boat because of the weather. Ultimately, the Coast Guard decided to undertake a daring airlift operation by a crew dispatched from Atlantic City.