With this article, we are starting a semi-regular humor column, written by Orcas High School teacher Maurice Austin from recent events of local interest. Thanks for your humorously imaginative columns, Maurice! What’s next?
— by Maurice Austin —
Map from County Public Works depicting inter-island bridge system through the San Juans. Thanks to Brian Vincent, Public Works Director
While wandering downtown Anacortes recently, I found myself subject to an irresistible call of nature, and acting upon the notion that a straight line is usually the most expedient, bee-lined toward the nearest privy. Unfortunately, it was on the other side of a chain-link fence.
So I knocked. Er—rattled, rather.
“Whaddya want?” yelled a large, clean-cut young man in a white hardhat. He pointed his clipboard at me. “You!”
I enquired if I might use his restroom, and pointed at a door nearby.
“What?!” he screamed, cocking an ear.
Granted, it was rather loud. Propane-powered utility carts buzzed about, a workman with a large grinder sent up showers of glittering sparks over the growl of his grinder, and hammering and clanging echoed throughout the shipyard. In short, a din.
And bright, too, brighter than day, and not all of the lights flashing at once. No wonder the hardhat squinted at me.
I pointed again, and he shrugged, swung open the gate, and guided me into his office, a small utilitarian space with a metal desk, a drawing board and storage drawers, and a lamp that had seen better service, I suspect, in the Hanoi offices where it was originally stationed. But no restroom.
“I’m sorry, I started, “could I—”
“It’s okay. Lots of folks wondering how the repairs on the ferry Samish are coming. Won’t be long now—but it’s slowing down our other projects.”
I shifted feet. “Other projects?”
He grinned tightly, then guided me to the drafting table.
“Sure. Ferries are quickly becoming relics of the past. We’ve secured the contract for the proposed inter-island bridge, and have begun constructing the first mid-channel anchors for deeper portions, and supports for the drawbridges.” He glanced at me. “Hey, buddy, you doing okay? You seem to be sweating bullets.”
I clenched my teeth. “Fine. Drawbridges?” I asked.
“Well, since most communities have prevented coal, LNG, and methanol projects along the west coast, the inter-island highway must take into account plans to establish an underwater railway tube to several proposed sites, including Crane and Stuart Island. Some spots get shallow, and the trains will need more clearance, Clarence.” He grinned.
I stared at the squiggly black line outlining the proposed inter-island bridge, and curled my toes. On ferries, I thought, at least there were restrooms.
“Will this be economically feasible?” I asked.
“Of course!” He beamed. “Heck, at the rate these old—new—tubs deteriorate, why, a toll bridge will make a profit in half the time. And reservations will be a thing of the past.” He winked.
“Toll? What sort of toll?”
“Couple thou, round-trip, probably,” he said. “By 2116, that’d be on par with a round-trip ferry ticket. And no standing in line.”
I felt queasy, and the squiggly lines squiggled in my eyes like dollar bills blowing away in the wind.
“Sounds great. Can I use your men’s room, by any chance?”
When I returned, he was gone, his office locked, and the intensified grinding and showering sparks illuminated carts trundling anchoring pontoons and galvanized trusses into place alongside a segment of paved bridge-work, which already sported a newly-minted traffic-control sign: “Speed Limit: 20 MPH.”
Oh good! We can break out the “Bridge to Mainland” signs again.
Excellent and funny, Mr. Austin.
My vision is for a retractable “Sky Bridge”, going from Orcas landing to Shaw. This walking bridge would have an arc high enough to allow boats to pass under when in use. After the scheduled closures, the two ends would contract back to their anchored spots, giving again the unobstructed water view.
Of course, most Shaw residents would oppose the idea, with a few covertly hoping it would happen, as it would give a chance to “shop the Rock” for their groceries, using elaborate motorized grocery carts.
One might ask, “Why?” I have no answer.
Mr. Austin rides again. Keep it up, and I’ll re-subscribe.
I very much appreciate your humor writing, Mr. Austin, and even more appreciate your optimism in thinking that some of these ideas are so ridiculous as to be outside the possibility of actually being considered. I, for one, am rapidly losing my sense of humor about “public works” that would have been considered April Fool’s Day jokes a decade ago, such as the hideous flashing speed signs, and the multi-million dollar interstate-style bridge soon replacing the short (and sweet) Deer Harbor Bridge. I imagine that traffic signals and Eastsound parking hour signs are not far behind. If you fund it, they will build it.