The Native Iowan

Sunday in the valley. 1115am, weak sun shining through grey clouds. Very little warmth to be had inside or out. Im alone here so have the house wide open. I like the open air flowing through this hallow big old house. I am wrapped in my granny-blanket, blood sports on the tube.

Blood sports Sundays are good…

Thinking of a couple things this fine, chilly morn…

First is fine and filial thoughts for my ol compadre and partner in crime, Ken Holmes. Ken passed through the great void into the mystery of the unknown 10months ago. A memorial is being organised for him this month. I’d like to go, see his family, tell some good-ol Ken stories. But I shan’t. My life and responsibilities here on my little farm dont allow.

When Ken passed, I wrote the following: https://nativeiowan.wordpress.com/2022/10/28/2022-v10-obituary-kennythewaddholmes/?fbclid=IwAR19RygqzZQY0n8TJZDmbXcfGzAIa6W_xKbuI7-aWNudJdQc0kT9chRW34s

Life’s magnificent and glorious pageant, wouldn’t miss it for quids…

Second is a story, an untold Ken Holmes story…

When we met, traveled to the Solomons as green-horn PCVs, there was a posse of like minded trouble makers. There was Billy B, Tim A, Ken B, and Ken Holmes. Of course, very quickly, Kenny Holmes became “Kenny The-Wad Holmes”. Most folks will remember famous porn star, Johnny The Wad Holmes, who was murdered by a pool in Hollywood. Bludgeoned to death with a “blunt object” was the cause of death. The nick name for Ken stuck, stayed, and to this day I think of him by his handle, “The Wadd”.

So its June 1981. Most of us were remote-school teachers and had come to the Big Mango (Honiara) for school break. Tim lived in Honiara and had at house we all crashed at. Our main hangout was the Point Cruz Yacht Club. We all had business and work to do and would normally meet at the end of the day at the PCYC, have a few beers, find a simple meal, and end up back at Tim’s place for the night. We did not have a lot of money. Only got paid 90bucks a month, which was ok because beers were 50cents, smokes were a buck or so. An egg burger was 90cents. Fridays we’d go to the Mendana and pay 11bucks for an all-you-can-eat salad, steak n desert Bbq.

It’s a lovely eve, we’re all gathered at the Yacht Club. Dusk is coming. We watch as a newly cleared-in yacht tacks into the little basin, drops its pick, prepares to come ashore. We watch intensely because the yacht is crewed entirely by females. Long legged, tanned, healthy females. The yacht flies the Stars n Stripes.

It is obvious they have been making a passage. It turns out they had sailed in from Fiji. But you can tell when a yacht has been busy, used, worked for a while. And the first thing all these females did, after squaring away the vessel, was come into the yacht club for a shower. They all showed up, there were four of them, happy and loud (they were Americans) carrying their towels and shampoo bottles.

After a week or more at sea, a shower is worth getting excited about.

The Yacht Club of today bears little resemblance to the PCYC of 1981.

Then it was nothing more than a small lock up pantry that was the bar, a few tables out by the sea, and very basic bathroom/ shower facilities.

The toilet/ shower area was a concrete block house, small window with wooden louvers, a shower (cold water only) and a toilet. One basic simple wooden door, complete with bicycle tyre auto-door closer, each for males and females.

Where we sit we can hear the girls in the shower. Sound like they are having fun. Tim is first to suggest that he should have a peek… it’s getting dark, the place is not busy, Tim reckons he can sneak up to the wood louvres, have a look at what sounds so fun.

Tim is a big tall dude. Yet he stealthily places himself flat against the wall and peeks through the louvres. He smiles and motions to us. It must be a good show.

Ken B and The Wadd slide silently up next to Tim. They take turns peaking through the wood slats, head up n peek, back down, snigger, another head peeks in… The girls are obviously enjoying the shower. It’s a small area but the shower is on and the girls are making happy sounds, the boys are being voyeurs.

I saw an opportunity for some fun… Rather than slide up and take my turn being a pervert, I decided to be a jerk… I walked behind the guys, towards the gate. I was behind them, the shower window was right in front of me, the guys were leaning on each other, squatting down, each ready for their next surreptitious view.

I pick up a nice sized rock, tossed it over the guys’ heads, and hit the wooden louvre square and hard. “BANG”!!! The guys all looked like cartoon characters trying to gain traction and run away…

I laughed so hard they couldn’t beat me up. All three were both angered, frightened and frustrated. They didn’t see the humour.

Years later The Wadd could still get grumpy at me for what he considered a huge familial failing… just as they were getting as good eyeful, I tossed my rock and ended the party.

It still makes me laugh.

Smiles all around, especially to Jennifer and Roycie.

More later