Michael White’s Oral History

•December 27, 2009 • Leave a Comment

My girl, Jane, got her researcher’s Christmas gift right on time when she found Michael White’s oral history Online.†Relatives of Miguel Blanco – it’s just better than anything you might have guessed – a real hoot and a half! In 1877, Michael White, who usually went by Miguel Blanco, was 76 and just as sharp as a tack. His side of the story is simply hilarious – talking about his adventures as a pirate and all the†mischief he got up to. He worked hard and he played hard. When you’re doing research, you make some educated guesses and then you’ve gotta find out if you’re right or not. Turns out our boy was a pirate. Turns out he missed England more than we would’a thought. Here’s the rest in his own words:†

I, MICHAEL CLARINGBUD WHITE (generally known in California under the name of Miguel Blanco) was born in [Margrave], Kent (England) and brought up there till I was 13 years old. My father and his father were named James White, and were farmers. My mother’s maiden name was Elizabeth MacTed.

At 13, I was apprenticed to the master of the ship Perseverance of London, whose name was William Mott. I was with him 2 years and 9 months in the whaling business, was left ashore at San José del Cabo in Lower California, that was in 1817 in my 16th year, for I was born on the 10th (Shrove Tuesday) of February 1802.

I went ashore with liberty for a walk, hired a horse and went to take a ride in the country. The horse fell down, caught my foot under it and put it out of joint. The horse ran away to the house it belonged. The women of the house on seeing the horse without a rider, and the saddle somewhat out of gear, came to where I was, picked me up and carried me home. They pulled my foot till they got it in place again, and took care of me til I was well. They were very good people. The old man’s name was Ignacio Ma¬īrquez and his wife’s Lucia. They treated me with the utmost kindness, and †I, of course, did all I could to help them. I was in the place and vicinity about 15 months. The authorities never interfered with me.

I finally went to La Paz and shipped on a small Mexican schooner called the Flor de Mayo, commanded by a Spaniard named Pepe Sailas. That was in 1819. La Paz was then under the Mexican flag. There were no houses there then, and the vessel came to exchange flour and other things for cheeses, preserves, and other country produce. We repaired to Mazatlan, where there was no other building but the Custom House. From there went to Guaymas‚ÄĒnot a sign of a building there but the Custom House. After arriving in Guaymas the master Sailas, who was also owner of the schooner, went off to his home in the country, and placed the vessel in my charge. I knew how to sail her having been taught navigation on board the Perseverance. Besides, not much knowledge of navigation was necessary to sail on the coast.

[I] Went back to La Paz, and then returned to Guaymas. When I reached Guaymas, the owner came on board and we went together to Mazatlan calling at La Paz. I left him in Mazatlan, as I got a fit of home sickness‚ÄĒI wanted to go back to Old England, and I had saved up a little money. Embarked for Acapulco as passenger on a Mexican Brig, touched at San Blas, and there with a boat of said Brig, re-captured by hard fighting an American Brig named the Lancaster (a Baltimore clipper), which had been taken by some French and Spanish people to make a privateer of.

Those pirates that had captured the American Brig were carried to Guadalajara, tried and shot‚ÄĒthat was in 1820. I was a witness before the English and American Consuls on the hill in San Blas. The English Consul was named Forbes. I don’t remember the name of the American Consul, and never wanted to, as he was a mean man, who offered me $5 for the service I had rendered in recapturing the Brig. I told him to stick it up his fundament, to his face. I was mad as well as ashamed of the insult. The English Consul told him that he had grievously insulted me, that I was entitled to claim 1/3 the value of the vessel, and asked me if I wanted to make the claim. I answered no. After that, we went on to Acapulco, where I was taken sick‚ÄĒ and found no vessel going home.

In the fight for the recapture of the Lancaster, I had only four men, and took her without anything but a boathook from the 24 men that held her. I was wounded on the shin by a big Frenchman with a cutlass. He struck at my head, but I jumped back, and fell on my back. The cutlass peeled my skin. In San Blas, the British Consul told me to stop that night in his house but I had the two pistols I had taken from the Frenchman, and started off to go down the hill to the port where I had a girl.

In going down, I saw three men scuffling on the road and thought they were waiting for me, but it was not so. They had robbed and killed a poor man, and I stepped over him. He was not quite dead yet and breathed hard. I got down to the port and told the Alcalde Lorenzo (his surname I did not know) [Alcalde ordinario; the traditional Spanish municipal magistrate, who had both judicial and administrative functions], who was an Italian by birth. He advised me to hush up. The murdered man had been sent from there with $2000. The reason he told me to say nothing was that I would be detained and lose my passage.

As I said before, on my arrival at Acapulco I was taken sick with fever. I had to spend all the money I had, and to sell all my clothes, and had nothing left but a Scotch cap, a duck frock and pair of pantaloons, no shirt, shoes or anything else. I was then entirely destitute, and no vessel there to get away in.

Then there came in a small Mexican hermaphrodite Brig belonging to two brothers, Felipe and Nicolas Lastra. She was called the Eagle, but the owners being natives of Paita (Peru) people called her the Paitena; indeed, she was built in Paita.

I was on the beach one day when one of the owners came on shore, spoke to me in broken English, asked me if I had been sick. I answered in the affirmative, and he told me that I was sick because I had had nothing to eat‚ÄĒasked me to go on board. I asked him if he thought I could be of any use to him on the vessel, and he said ‚ÄúNever mind‚ÄĒgo on board.‚ÄĚ I did so, and got something to eat. In the evening he asked me if I could repair sails. I told him I had done it. He got me to repair the foresail, and finally asked me to go as mate with him, which I did, very glad of the chance. He paid me $1 each day for the time we laid in port, then I shipped as mate with $30 per month, and the privilege of taking two mules‚Äô loads of tobacco or any other goods that might be smuggled.

Came with him to La Paz, thence to Guaymas; he then delivered the Brig over to me saying I was as smart as he, and even a little better. I sailed her as master from that time till the year 1826. Then there came in at Guaymas a Philadelphia Brig, the Gen. Sucre and as I had made some money I concluded to go to Sandwich Islands to see if I could find a British vessel there to carry me home. All the time I was in Guaymas, I was engaged in smuggling money out of the country for the priests. It was the time when the Government were expelling the Spanish priests from Mexico and did not allow them to take out their money without paying a heavy duty, nearly one half of the amount. I went over to the California side in the Brig to take in pearl-oyster shells‚ÄĒmet Tova, the Governor, living on his ranch Dolores betwixt La Paz and Loreto–he knew me and gave me some goats which I took over to Guaymas, and they served me as a cover to bring money away from the shore.

When the money was on the point, a small light was shown. In the morning I would go ashore in the boat for grass. Took in the pigs of silver, and covered them with grass, and then came on board. The Custom House officer on board was invited into the cabin to take his ma√Īana [morning] or las once [eleven o'clock] and whilst he was down there, the silver was pitched in and stowed away under the pearl shells‚ÄĒhe never saw the silver, but he was paid for closing his eyes. Custom House boat never searched me, as they did other boats. I was called the ‚Äúold man.‚ÄĚ The fact is, all knew I was serving the priests, whose influence was very great.

From there we went to Mazatlan and the priest asked me if I could go and fetch on board two bars of silver ($1000 each) in the day time. I answered yes. I went, got the two bars, lashed them under my shirt with my belt, and passed in sight of the Custom House officers and took them on board. I pretended to be as drunk as a loon, and kept singing and hallooing. When I got on the boat I was worn out, untied the belt and dropped the bars in the bottom of the boat, at same time dropped my boat cloak over them.

I had a Frenchman with me, who would not pull. I had sculled the boat a little ways. He got fighting me, got me under, and was striking me. I was trying to keep him off with my arms. He stood over me, and in that predicament I got hold of his privy parts and hove him over board, where I left him–he asked me if I intended to leave him there to drown, and I answered yes, ‚Äúdrown and be damned, you Jonny Crapeau.‚ÄĚ He begged hard to be rescued, and when I saw he was well worn out, pulled him on board‚ÄĒhe could do me no harm then. Capt. Pittores of the Philadelphia Brig saw the whole transaction. He came on board and told the Frenchman to get his chest up, paid him off, and we carried him off in the boat to one of the islands of Mazatlan where we left him, and that’s the last I ever saw of the Frenchman.

That evening we got underway and proceeded to off San Blas, being afraid that the Frenchman might report our doings. Two canoes came off to us and brought on board 36 bars of silver ($1000 each).

Phineas Gage Update

•December 23, 2009 • 1 Comment

Folks, you know I'm a Phineas Gage fan from my previous post (back in June of last year) about this fella and his brain injury, and you might think, "Jake, he's been dead more that 100 years, what's there more to say?"

http://ravenjake.vox.com/library/post/phineas-gage.html 

Plenty, as it turns out. A couple just turned up the photo of him and his "lucky" tamping rod. Read all about it in this month's Smithsonian Magazine!

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/Phineas-Gage-Neurosciences-Most-Famous-Patient.html

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Phineas Gage Update

•December 23, 2009 • 1 Comment

Folks, you know I'm a Phineas Gage fan from my previous post (back in June of last year) about this fella and his brain injury, and you might think, "Jake, he's been dead more that 100 years, what's there more to say?"

http://ravenjake.vox.com/library/post/phineas-gage.html 

Plenty, as it turns out. A couple just turned up the photo of him and his "lucky" tamping rod. Read all about it in this month's Smithsonian Magazine!

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/Phineas-Gage-Neurosciences-Most-Famous-Patient.html

Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠

•December 21, 2009 • Leave a Comment

You know how I said I'd be interested to know what happened to 15-year-old Michael Claringbud White when he was stranded in Cabo? Well, I still am!

 

I feel like I'm a little closer, though.

 

Unlike today's teenager on spring break, young Mike was probably in a pretty bad way when he got to Cabo. No "Girls Gone Wild" and body shots of tequila, I'm guessin'.

 

And I have to be candid, folks; there ain't much about the Spanish mission system I like. They were set up to enslave and kill indigenous people, and that's what they did. The only thing you can say that's positive is that at least the padres were sometimes a

mitigating influence on the soldiers, and that ain't much to commend it. But we have to know our history, or there's no way we can get past it.

 

The history of the Alta California Missions was shaped by the Baja California Missions, and young Mike was right smack in the middle of it. San José del Cabo wasn't exactly an urban hub when he landed there, but we can imagine that he was welcomed at the mission and that probably caused him to look favorably on missions as the center of the community from that day forward. He probably started learning Spanish at that time, and he probably started appreciating Mexican culture and food right about then too. Maybe he even started calling himself Miguel.

 

After being born in Kent, raised on English cuisine and getting pawned off on a whaler, the sunny shores of Cabo must've been pretty nice in comparison.

 

Now all that is pure conjecture, but here's what we know about the local mission, Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠:

 

And here's the reference: Vernon, Edward W. 2002. Las Misiones Antiguas: The Spanish Missions of Baja California, 1683‚Äď1855. Viejo Press, Santa Barbara, California.

 

Mission San José del Cabo was the southernmost of the Jesuit missions on the Baja California peninsula, located near the modern city of San José del Cabo in Baja California Sur, Mexico.

 

The southern cape of the Baja California peninsula had been an often-visited landmark for Spanish navigators (as well as English privateers) for nearly two centuries when a mission was finally established at the Peric√ļ settlement of A√Īuit√≠ in 1730 by Nicol√° Tamaral. Initially located near the beach, the station was subsequently moved inland about 8 kilometers.

 

In 1734 the Peric√ļ Revolt broke out, Tamaral was killed, and the mission was destroyed. In 1735‚Äď1736, the reestablished outpost was moved back closer to the coast, but it served as a visita for Mission Santiago and as the site of a Spanish presidio. In 1753, San Jos√© del Cabo was again moved inland. In 1795, under the Dominicans, the surviving native population of Mission Santiago was transferred to San Jos√© del Cabo. The mission was finally closed in 1840.

 

Here's a list of the 33 Baja California missions (there are 21 up north, plus Pala) 

· Misión San Bruno (1683)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora de Loreto Conch√≥ (1697)

· Visita de San Juan Bautista Londó (1699)

· Misión San Francisco Javier de Viggé-Biaundó (1699)

· Misión San Juan Bautista Malibat (Misión Liguí) (1705)

· Misión Santa Rosalía de Mulegé (1705)

¬∑ Misi√≥n San Jos√© de Comond√ļ (1708)

· Misión La Purísima Concepción de Cadegomó (1720)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora del Pilar de La Paz Airap√≠ (1720)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora de Guadalupe de Huasinapi (1720)

· Misión Santiago de Los Coras (1721)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora de los Dolores del Sur Chill√° (1721)

· Misión San Ignacio Kadakaamán (1728)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠ (1730)

· Misión Santa Rosa de las Palmas (Misión Todos Santos) (1733)

· Misión San Luis Gonzaga Chiriyaqui (1740)

· Misión Santa Gertrudis (1752)

· Misión San Francisco Borja (1762)

· Visita de Calamajué (1766)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Santa Mar√≠a de los √Āngeles (1767)

¬∑ Misi√≥n San Fernando Rey de Espa√Īa de Velicat√° (1769)

· Visita de la Presentación (1769)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora del Sant√≠simo Rosario de Vi√Īacado (1774)

· Visita de San José de Magdalena (1774)

· Misión Santo Domingo de la Frontera (1775)

· Misión San Vicente Ferrer (1780)

· Misión San Miguel Arcángel de la Frontera (1797)

· Misión Santo Tomás de Aquino (1791)

· Misión San Pedro Mártir de Verona (1794)

· Misión Santa Catarina Virgen y Mártir (1797)

· Visita de San Telmo (1798)

· Misión El Descanso (Misión San Miguel la Nueva) (1817)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora de Guadalupe del Norte (1834)

 

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Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠

•December 20, 2009 • Leave a Comment

You know how I said I'd be interested to know what happened to 15-year-old Michael Claringbud White when he was stranded in Cabo? Well, I still am!

 

I feel like I'm a little closer, though.

 

Unlike today's teenager on spring break, young Mike was probably in a pretty bad way when he got to Cabo. No "Girls Gone Wild" and body shots of tequila, I'm guessin'.

 

And I have to be candid, folks; there ain't much about the Spanish mission system I like. They were set up to enslave and kill indigenous people, and that's what they did. The only thing you can say that's positive is that at least the padres were sometimes a

mitigating influence on the soldiers, and that ain't much to commend it. But we have to know our history, or there's no way we can get past it.

 

The history of the Alta California Missions was shaped by the Baja California Missions, and young Mike was right smack in the middle of it. San José del Cabo wasn't exactly an urban hub when he landed there, but we can imagine that he was welcomed at the mission and that probably caused him to look favorably on missions as the center of the community from that day forward. He probably started learning Spanish at that time, and he probably started appreciating Mexican culture and food right about then too. Maybe he even started calling himself Miguel.

 

After being born in Kent, raised on English cuisine and getting pawned off on a whaler, the sunny shores of Cabo must've been pretty nice in comparison.

 

Now all that is pure conjecture, but here's what we know about the local mission, Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠:

 

And here's the reference: Vernon, Edward W. 2002. Las Misiones Antiguas: The Spanish Missions of Baja California, 1683‚Äď1855. Viejo Press, Santa Barbara, California.

 

Mission San José del Cabo was the southernmost of the Jesuit missions on the Baja California peninsula, located near the modern city of San José del Cabo in Baja California Sur, Mexico.

 

The southern cape of the Baja California peninsula had been an often-visited landmark for Spanish navigators (as well as English privateers) for nearly two centuries when a mission was finally established at the Peric√ļ settlement of A√Īuit√≠ in 1730 by Nicol√° Tamaral. Initially located near the beach, the station was subsequently moved inland about 8 kilometers.

 

In 1734 the Peric√ļ Revolt broke out, Tamaral was killed, and the mission was destroyed. In 1735‚Äď1736, the reestablished outpost was moved back closer to the coast, but it served as a visita for Mission Santiago and as the site of a Spanish presidio. In 1753, San Jos√© del Cabo was again moved inland. In 1795, under the Dominicans, the surviving native population of
Mission Santiago was transferred to San José del Cabo. The mission was finally closed in 1840.

 

Here's a list of the 33 Baja California missions (there are 21 up north, plus Pala) 

· Misión San Bruno (1683)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora de Loreto Conch√≥ (1697)

· Visita de San Juan Bautista Londó (1699)

· Misión San Francisco Javier de Viggé-Biaundó (1699)

· Misión San Juan Bautista Malibat (Misión Liguí) (1705)

· Misión Santa Rosalía de Mulegé (1705)

¬∑ Misi√≥n San Jos√© de Comond√ļ (1708)

· Misión La Purísima Concepción de Cadegomó (1720)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora del Pilar de La Paz Airap√≠ (1720)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora de Guadalupe de Huasinapi (1720)

· Misión Santiago de Los Coras (1721)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora de los Dolores del Sur Chill√° (1721)

· Misión San Ignacio Kadakaamán (1728)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠ (1730)

· Misión Santa Rosa de las Palmas (Misión Todos Santos) (1733)

· Misión San Luis Gonzaga Chiriyaqui (1740)

· Misión Santa Gertrudis (1752)

· Misión San Francisco Borja (1762)

· Visita de Calamajué (1766)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Santa Mar√≠a de los √Āngeles (1767)

¬∑ Misi√≥n San Fernando Rey de Espa√Īa de Velicat√° (1769)

· Visita de la Presentación (1769)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora del Sant√≠simo Rosario de Vi√Īacado (1774)

· Visita de San José de Magdalena (1774)

· Misión Santo Domingo de la Frontera (1775)

· Misión San Vicente Ferrer (1780)

· Misión San Miguel Arcángel de la Frontera (1797)

· Misión Santo Tomás de Aquino (1791)

· Misión San Pedro Mártir de Verona (1794)

· Misión Santa Catarina Virgen y Mártir (1797)

· Visita de San Telmo (1798)

· Misión El Descanso (Misión San Miguel la Nueva) (1817)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora de Guadalupe del Norte (1834)

 

Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠

•December 20, 2009 • Leave a Comment

You know how I said I'd be interested to know what happened to 15-year-old Michael Claringbud White when he was stranded in Cabo? Well, I still am!

 

I feel like I'm a little closer, though.

 

Unlike today's teenager on spring break, young Mike was probably in a pretty bad way when he got to Cabo. No "Girls Gone Wild" and body shots of tequila, I'm guessin'.

 

And I have to be candid, folks; there ain't much about the Spanish mission system I like. They were set up to enslave and kill indigenous people, and that's what they did. The only thing you can say that's positive is that at least the padres were sometimes a

mitigating influence on the soldiers, and that ain't much to commend it. But we have to know our history, or there's no way we can get past it.

 

The history of the Alta California Missions was shaped by the Baja California Missions, and young Mike was right smack in the middle of it. San José del Cabo wasn't exactly an urban hub when he landed there, but we can imagine that he was welcomed at the mission and that probably caused him to look favorably on missions as the center of the community from that day forward. He probably started learning Spanish at that time, and he probably started appreciating Mexican culture and food right about then too. Maybe he even started calling himself Miguel.

 

After being born in Kent, raised on English cuisine and getting pawned off on a whaler, the sunny shores of Cabo must've been pretty nice in comparison.

 

Now all that is pure conjecture, but here's what we know about the local mission, Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠:

 

And here's the reference: Vernon, Edward W. 2002. Las Misiones Antiguas: The Spanish Missions of Baja California, 1683‚Äď1855. Viejo Press, Santa Barbara, California.

 

Mission San José del Cabo was the southernmost of the Jesuit missions on the Baja California peninsula, located near the modern city of San José del Cabo in Baja California Sur, Mexico.

 

The southern cape of the Baja California peninsula had been an often-visited landmark for Spanish navigators (as well as English privateers) for nearly two centuries when a mission was finally established at the Peric√ļ settlement of A√Īuit√≠ in 1730 by Nicol√° Tamaral. Initially located near the beach, the station was subsequently moved inland about 8 kilometers.

 

In 1734 the Peric√ļ Revolt broke out, Tamaral was killed, and the mission was destroyed. In 1735‚Äď1736, the reestablished outpost was moved back closer to the coast, but it served as a visita for Mission Santiago and as the site of a Spanish presidio. In 1753, San Jos√© del Cabo was again moved inland. In 1795, under the Dominicans, the surviving native population of
Mission Santiago was transferred to San José del Cabo. The mission was finally closed in 1840.

 

Here's a list of the 33 Baja California missions (there are 21 up north, plus Pala) 

· Misión San Bruno (1683)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora de Loreto Conch√≥ (1697)

· Visita de San Juan Bautista Londó (1699)

· Misión San Francisco Javier de Viggé-Biaundó (1699)

· Misión San Juan Bautista Malibat (Misión Liguí) (1705)

· Misión Santa Rosalía de Mulegé (1705)

¬∑ Misi√≥n San Jos√© de Comond√ļ (1708)

· Misión La Purísima Concepción de Cadegomó (1720)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora del Pilar de La Paz Airap√≠ (1720)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora de Guadalupe de Huasinapi (1720)

· Misión Santiago de Los Coras (1721)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora de los Dolores del Sur Chill√° (1721)

· Misión San Ignacio Kadakaamán (1728)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Estero de las Palmas de San Jos√© del Cabo A√Īuit√≠ (1730)

· Misión Santa Rosa de las Palmas (Misión Todos Santos) (1733)

· Misión San Luis Gonzaga Chiriyaqui (1740)

· Misión Santa Gertrudis (1752)

· Misión San Francisco Borja (1762)

· Visita de Calamajué (1766)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Santa Mar√≠a de los √Āngeles (1767)

¬∑ Misi√≥n San Fernando Rey de Espa√Īa de Velicat√° (1769)

· Visita de la Presentación (1769)

¬∑ Misi√≥n Nuestra Se√Īora del Sant√≠simo Rosario de Vi√Īacado (1774)

· Visita de San José de Magdalena (1774)

· Misión Santo Domingo de la Frontera (1775)

· Misión San Vicente Ferrer (1780)

· Misión San Miguel Arcángel de la Frontera (1797)

· Misión Santo Tomás de Aquino (1791)

· Misión San Pedro Mártir de Verona (1794)

· Misión Santa Catarina Virgen y Mártir (1797)

· Visita de San Telmo (1798)

· Misión El Descanso (Misión San Miguel la Nueva) (1817)

¬∑ Misi√≥n de Nuestra Se√Īora de Guadalupe del Norte (1834)

 

Raven Jake at the Hi-Desert Museum Feb. 3

•December 20, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I'll be givin' a little talk about how Raven Jake came to be for the Hi-Desert Museum's First Wednesdays program in February. Don't worry – it's not gonna be all technical, just tellin' some stories about the desert and some of the adventures we've had, so come on by and support the museum and the Morongo Basin Historical Society! 

 

Raven Jake Dawes: A Man, a Vision, a Blog.

 

Did you know that:

  • The superintendent of the San Marino school district keeps a grizzly bear in his office?
  • The man who built California‚Äôs first boat was a pirate?
  • An attractive red-headed beetle, Lytta magister, secretes blister-forming blood from its joints?
  • The majestic Joshua Tree is a giant lily?
  • Johnny Lang‚Äôs skull has gone missing?

 

These topics and many others will be addressed by Jeryd and Jane Pojawa at the Hi-Desert Museum First Wednesday program on February 3rd, as they discuss the creation and evolution of ‚ÄúRaven Jake Dawes, Desert Rat,‚ÄĚ and his exploits.

 

Two years ago, Jeryd and Jane Pojawa created a character, Raven Jake Dawes, as an online persona for Jeryd‚Äôs poetry, photography and travel. Raven Jake‚Äôs forum was the Internet, his medium, a blog. It was, in essence, a digital scrapbook to be shared with the world. Since then, Raven Jake has attracted several thousand fans and been called to hundreds of adventures, from identifying unusual bugs to saving a 150-year-old adobe from the bulldozer.  

 

If you’re ever wanted to meet the owner of an abandoned gold mine, encountered a banded alder borer, played the dijereedoo at the Integratron, dug for rare salt crystals in Trona, eaten a piece of Alien Fresh Jerky, wondered about the history of a weird old building, or are an ornery desert rat, Raven Jake is your kind of guy.

 

If you’ve ever wondered about how to share your stories with the world, are curious about blogging, and don’t have an operating budget, Raven Jake might give you some inspiration.

 

Jane Pojawa serves as the secretary for Cabot’s Pueblo Museum Foundation in Desert Hot Springs. Her extensive research into the extraordinary life of Cabot Yerxa has made for some fascinating discoveries about one of the Coachella Valley’s earliest pioneers. Jeryd Pojawa, aka Raven Jake, is a two-time Academy Award winner for motion picture special effects productions and is an inveterate desert rat and raconteur.

 

This informal presentation will be held at the Hi-Desert Nature Museum

February 3, 2010

$5 Donation

57090 29 Palms Highway

Yucca Valley, CA 92284

 

Adventure awaits ‚Äď and it might be much stranger (and cheaper) than you think. No computer experience necessary!

http://ravenjake.vox.com/

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