SOS Gab & Eti 1.33

Gab put on his Speedos, surf sandals not briefs, and we went down to The
Beach. The Beach is what we call the park located on Loon Lake, an
artificial containment of Jane’s Creek full with water lilies, duck
weed, Crappie and Sunfish, surrounded by willows and cattail -- a water
body not much larger than Walden Pond. Regrettably the only claim to
historic fame for Loon Lake is not a famous book, but an obscure and
lost painting. George Emlyn in 1855 is supposed to have immortalized the
landscape in his typical Hudson River School style, so the local legend
goes.

I get the impression that the difference between a lake and a pond is
determined local. Where I was reared anything less than forty miles in
length and a mile wide were called a pond. If not larger than a used
washing machine it was considered without second thought a puddle. Here
the smallest birdbath of water gets magnificent distinction and a name
all it’s own, regardless if it lasts a millennium or fifteen minutes in
a hailstorm.

There is a stretch of coarse brown sand about two hundred feet in length
on the south side of Loon Lake and since the development of the park the
locals have taken to calling it The Beach. The park consists of two
wooden picnic tables and a stone barbecue pit between them, similar to
any roadside rest area, and a metal swing set. The Beach is a popular
destination for bored teenagers; Sunday school Church groups, both
Methodist and Baptist though on separate days; fathers and sons out for
the obligatory weekender fishing; and the boogey man. The north side of
the lake is mostly blue clay and shale and at one time supplied a brick
manufacture, which is now in ruins a half mile north of the lake. Gab
says he has visited the kilns with Annalee Wintergreen and I don’t dare
venture further with that discussion just right now. During the summer
the beach is as active as any attraction in the big city, but in the
fall the place is pretty much all deserted.

When we got to Loon Lake we met Annalee who brought along the equipment.
The two of them have become quite active in the Bullamanka Treasure
Hunters Club and they asked me along this morning. I don’t really like
getting up so early, but Gab had been after me for weeks to come out
with him and Annalee and he said that we had to get down there before
the crowd showed up. In Bullamanka five people can be considered a
crowd, which is sort of like saying the occupant capacity of a Buick is
in the same league as Nardac Stadium during the fourth a July fireworks
celebration.

They strapped on their electronic belt packs and put large headphones
over their ears. Gab’s headphones are black, matching his stylish
attire, black shorts with pirate skull and crossbones on the backside of
his black T-shirt and a black hat. Annalee’s headphones are yellow and
bulge out from the side of her head like oversize grapefruit. She wears
a pair of paint-splotched jeans and a red flannel blouse. Each of them
has a box made of hardware cloth that they sling over their shoulders, a
metal screen-scoop on a broomstick handle held together with silvered
gafer’s tape, and the device. The device looks prosthetic, and in a
manner it is an extension not only of their arms but also of their ears.

Gab says he first got interested in being an avid metal detectorist when
he was asked by one of his biffie customers to locate what they
suspected was fifty-five gallon drums of hazardous shampoo buried on
their property. Gab did some research and came up with an industrial
grade metal detector. The unit was capable of locating cans, barrels,
plates, large metal pieces, or voids created by metal, fiberglass,
concrete tanks, cisterns, or well and culvert pipe, a 30-06 shell
casing, a Zippo lighter, a toy car, a spark plug, an old metal ball
point pen, a hunk of steel about six inches long, relics, groups of
coins, staples, nails, sprinkler heads, concrete rebar, property stake
pins, valves, railroad spikes, a 1721 Hibernia English Penny with a
picture of King George, wire staples, lead bullets, sprinkler heads,
lost keys, jewelry, rings, and small tools, several keys, and lots of
can and other large targets to a depth of 20' and displaying such on a
luminescent screen. Gab claims he can locate a buried bus full of school
kids in less than three hours.
--
][<en Follett
SOS Gab & Eti -- http://www.geocities.com/~orgrease
Bullamanka-Pinheads website
http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/CGI/wa.exe?A0=bullamanka-pinheads