Thuesday - Day of the Pendulum

All day, the pendulum swung: good news, bad news. Good, bad. Sometimes good became bad, which became good.

I awoke a little after six and stepped outside to look skyward. Too dark to see much, but I decided to pack up for a trip to Venice and see what happened. Around seven I stepped out to see quite a bit of blue in the sky, and there was little wind. Good news! I finished getting myself together, and a few minutes later stepped out again to gray. Bad news. How can a sky change so fast?

I spoke to the woman behind the desk at the hotel who encouraged me to go, but quickly, as afternoon storms were due again. After a hurried breakfast, I hit the road.

Great instructions and clear maps got me across the Mississippi and headed south. Good news!

I headed south on Louisiana 23 toward Venice. Green along the sides of the roadway, and when I got a little further south, large berms a few hundred feet back on each side. The berm on my left blocked my view of the Mighty Mississippi, and the berm along my right blocked my view of the marshlands of the Gulf. I know the berms are there to protect the area from flooding. I wonder if either one were breached during Katrina. Even if not, just the amount of water tossed into the area must have been massive. With the berms - about 20-25 feet high - how did the waters recede?

I saw one road over the berm to the Gulf and crossed to the other side to find a small marina, complete with an Ohio cameraman trying to get some footage of non-existent oil. According to one man I spoke to, the area has no oil because of the force of the Mississippi as it enters the Gulf. If the river slows, or when hurricanes come, this could change. A massive hurricane could change it all overnight.

When I got to Venice, one entire field was set up as an emergency center. The field had a huge mobile sheriff's office, a medical unit, and numerous assorted cars and trucks. Big sign: No Solicitations. I asked and found out that questions were considered solicitations (of answers). No help there.

Two more emergency spots had been set up, each with guards posted in front. I was warned off by frowns and hands waving me on. Showing my press pass did not make them look at me more favorably.

Only two people at the marina would speak to me - neither would disclose a name, and neither would talk for more than about a minute. Others said things like, "No comment," or "Can't talk."
So I spent a few hours finding out very little. It seems BP has found a way to ensure no one will talk to the press about operations at the clean up bases.

One thing I found out, however, is BP has contracted with most of the tour boat owners to take volunteers and other clean up people out on the Gulf. Although most boats were contracted, a few of the contracted ones sat at the marina. Hundreds of people milled about, many doing nothing but milling.

One man told me a few boatloads were going out looking for turtles. But when the people see a turtle, they usually can't get to him. Turtles emerge from the water, breathe, and go back under. What are the chances of being right next to an emerging turtle and being able to net him? Especially if you've never tried to net a turtle before? The man snorted, saying it was all for show, so BP could say how much they're doing.

This seemed to be the general sentiment, though that man was the only one who verbalized it. Other sort of gazed off, smiled, or looked at their feet. The man who spoke to me said BP had contracted so many boats for two reasons: to be able to say they'd done so, and to keep others, like me and all the press, from going out on the water.

True enough. I couldn't find a boat to take me out. Couldn't have gone anyway. The storm was already beginning to roll in, so it was too late to head out to sea (to see sea). Boats were already being called in. Also, I found the going cost was around $800. Cash preferred. Dang! Why didn't I get someone to give me an expense account?

Not being able to get out on a boat was bad news, but it was good news. I wouldn't be able to get to the damaged area. But I wouldn't have to witness dying birds, dying marsh, dying fish, dying turtles. BP, limited funds, and an incoming storm conspired to keep me from what I had hoped to see.

Turns out it would have been much the same at Grand Isle. I would have had to hire a boat to get me to the areas I wanted to see, and I couldn't have done so.

I headed back, disappointed once again, but a bit relieved. I really don't know how I would have handled being in the middle of the destruction.

So now my big question is what to do. There is no real reason to hang out here, except the President will be here Saturday. Wild guess, but I think my chances of getting close to Barack are pretty low.

Tomorrow I guess I'll head to Biloxi and points east. Oil has hit the islands there. Most of the press is here, and with the President coming, there will be even more. Perhaps someone will want to earn a little money tomorrow and take me on out to an island. Unless there's a storm (and more are predicted), that's the plan.