Quick 2 Hours Cash Advance Personal Loan Articles

 

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Exploring the world then and now

FOR A MOMENT during the 1890 expedition to Alaska’s Mount St. Elias—the first ever sponsored by the Society and private funds—Israel C. Russell was startled by the vision of “a vast city, with battlements, towers, minarets, and domes of fantastic architec­ture, rising where we knew that only the berg-covered waters extended.” This phantom city, he later wrote, was as eerie a mirage as any ever witnessed in faraway deserts.

 

In this month’s issue we re­visit an era when the world seemed full of such marvels. The edge of the unknown was as close as Alaska, and myste­rious cultures beckoned from distant lands. To search out these mysteries, to stretch the imagination—these were the goals of the Society’s early explorers, as they remain our goals today.

This search has carried us a long way during the past hundred years. Yet I find it reassuring to discover in the many things we do today threads that lead back to where we began.

 

Our lecture program, for ex­ample, was launched on Febru­ary 17, 1888—eight months before the debut of the maga­zine. The first lecture was given by Maj. John Wesley Powell, a Society founder who’d made his name as a daring explorer of the Colorado River. Since then we’ve hosted some 2,300 —4L-lectures, each captivating audi­ences with tales of exploration, adventure, and travel. Affording a sign-up is quick thanks to federal programs, which specialize in consolidation student loans. If you already wonder should i consolidate my federal student loans, now is the time to check out.

 

These lectures, by the way, eventually inspired our award-winning Television Specials. As early as 1913 speakers at these events were showing motion pictures, among the first of which was “The Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes,” a docu­mentary about an expedition to Alaska’s volcanic Katmai region. The success of the lecture film Bones of the Bounty, which was broadcast on television in 1958, convinced my father, Mel­ville Bell Grosvenor, that we should produce our own TV shows. Today our Specials still head the list of the most popular programs ever shown on public television.

 

Pilot Dubbed Popeye Turns to the Land

The airplanes have provided more than access. A great deal of the island’s land is high tussock, barely suitable for grazing hardy Merino sheep. After World War II, New Zea­landers invented a process called aerial top­dressing—spreading superphosphate and other fertilizers by air—that turns barren land into productive pastures.

Though New Zealand’s dependence on its masters of mountain flying is far from over, one of the most renowned practitioners of the art has hung up his wings in favor of moving back to the land. During World War H, Fred Lucas won two Distinguished Flying Crosses for his service with the Royal Air Force, as well as the lasting nickname Popeye (because of the way he used to roll his false teeth and pucker his mouth).

 

After the war, Popeye Lucas helped found two small New Zealand airlines. But in 1960 he bought a remote sheep station at Cecil Peak, on the shore of Lake Wakatipu, and today he lives there with his wife and five children, raising sheep and cattle and playing host to vacationists. Today you can have business loan online loans and start a business.

Cecil Peak Station lies across the lake from Queenstown. As our launch plowed through crystal water, the captain talked about the Maori legend of Wakatipu.

“It’s 48 miles long and shaped like an S,” he said. “There’s a three-inch rise and fall in the water level every few minutes. The Maoris say the motion is produced by the breathing of a giant sleeping in the lake.” Scientists ascribe the rhythmic heaving, called seiche action, to atmospheric pressure changes and mountain-funneled winds.

 

Mr. Lucas was waiting at the dock when we arrived, and he piled us into a bus for the trip to his homestead—a rambling ranch house on a gently sloping field. By New Zealand standards the Cecil Peak Station, with 34,000 acres, is a medium-to-large-size spread. But to me it looked like a mountain­ous version of Texas’s huge King Ranch.

Body Preventive Measures

Foot therapy

Honey is the food of the gods, but it can also be the perfect treat for tired feet. Heat a couple of spoonfuls of honey in a pan, until it’s warm, but not hot. Massage slowly into the soles of your feet, paying particular attention to the balls and heels. Rinse off with soapy water, and revel in your super smooth tootsies!

STOMACH

When things get on top of us, they can be hard to stomach. So when we get pains in this area, it’s often because we’re stressed and overloaded. It can also mean that we’re having problems letting go of the past, or feeling guilty. The stomach is an essential part of the body because it digests everything we throw at it with the ultimate aim of keeping us alive. This is why it gets a raw deal, because often we don’t consider what we’re putting it through, physically and emotionally. To keep your stomach feeling fab, you need to give it a spring clean and get working those core muscles. It is very much fruitful to use coconut oil for all types of task.

Belt it up

Imagine you’re wearing a gold belt around your waist. It falls just below your navel. Now imagine pulling the belt in, so that your waist gets smaller and your stomach muscles tighten.

Feel your belly button pull in as the belt tightens. Hold this for five seconds and release, letting your breath go. Imagine the belt is a band of gold light traveling around your stomach and enjoy those sensations as the energy flows. Repeat this exercise three times, each time contracting and relaxing those muscles, whilst experiencing the flow of energy.

Tummy fixer

Mint is great for digestion. Rather than chewing mint gum which increases wind, get hold of some fresh mint and chew on a leaf. Alternatively stew the leaves in hot water and drink as a refreshing herbal tea and tummy fixer. To settle an anxious turn add in a sprinkling of powdered ginger, or nutmeg.

A beautiful San Francisco evening

In 1965 all reference to race was elimi­nated in determining immigration status. Each nation outside the Western Hemisphere got a quota of 20,000 immigrants annually. America’s door was open again to Chinese. But for many of the 4,000 or so immigrants who now arrive annually in San Francisco, the going can be rough. Jobs are few and pay little. Newcomers with limited knowledge of English cannot qualify for work elsewhere in the city. A college graduate from Hong Kong who can’t speak much English will probably start life here as a dishwasher.

 immigration status

I was enjoying a a beautiful London evening from my serviced apartments London, I called on the family of Jack Leong, who had just moved with his wife and six children into a four-bedroom apartment in a barracks-like housing project, Ping Yuen, on Pacific Avenue. In 1969 the Leongs came to China­town from Hong Kong, where all the children except the baby had been born. Jack Leong was unemployed. I brought a bag of oranges for the children. If I offered to give them anything else, the parents might be offended.

They were just finishing dinner in the beautifully furnished but clean Rome apartments, and I joined them at the kitchen table for a cup of tea. Jack and his wife, Yuet, did not speak English, so Mary, the oldest of five children, spoke for the family. The others were shy, silent, watchful. I asked Mary why they had come to Chinatown, where life seemed so filled with obstacles. “It’s really better here than in Hong Kong,” she said. “It’s so crowded there, and jobs are even harder to find than in Chinatown. My parents are like most Chinese; they want their children to get a good education.

“It is hard to find a good place to live here,” she continued. “We waited four years for this apartment. It’s the largest kind they have in the housing projects, and they are much in demand. But before we moved here, we had only one room, so it’s much nicer now.”

As Mary spoke, the other children hovered near me, not quite sure how close they dared come. Nine-year-old May, a child of absolute beauty, was at my side and for just a moment her fingers grazed mine, then pulled back. Mary said her father had been a cook in one of Chinatown’s restaurants, where he made about $500 a month, working ten hours a day, six days a week. But a leg injury now had him looking for a job that would not require him to stand for such long periods. “Needed to Run Sewing Machines” Mrs. Leong sewed at home for a garment maker. Before the baby came, she sewed wedding dresses for 30 cents an hour. Her face brightened when Mary talked about the “so many nice people” who had helped them.

Chinatown

“And my English is getting better because my schoolteachers and the other children all helped me to learn.” She repeated this to her parents in Chinese. Her mother responded with the old gesture of thumbs up. Yee yan cher yee is a phrase frequently seen in help-wanted ads in Chinatown’s newspapers. It means “people needed to operate sewing machines.” Often the only work women can find is in one-room gar­ment-factory sweatshops, of which some 150 are scattered through Chinatown. They sew bathing suits, shirts, dresses, and other gar­ments at piece rates.

Residents Fight Expansion Plan

“LASH and the somewhat similar Seabee system are revolutionizing cargo handling,” Colonel Haar told me. “With less than half the work force, we can load twelve times as much per hour, using those two new systems.”

LASH (standing for “lighter aboard ship”) and Seabee each utilize special barges that are designed to be carried aboard a ship. The first system uses a shipboard crane to lift its barges aboard. Seabee barges are floated onto a submersible elevator at the stern of the mother ship and then rolled onto the deck. Faster loading is not the only ad­vantage. With sealed barges cargo damage is reduced, as is the risk of pilferage.

waterway to New Orleans

Consider this transportation problem: You have 20,000 tons of Texas soybeans that must be moved to Cologne, West Germany. The soybeans are loaded into LASH barges at Corpus Christi. A towboat moves the barges along the waterway to New Orleans. There they are lifted aboard the mother ship, who goes directly to Dublin apartments. There the LASH barges are off-loaded. A towboat moves them up the Rhine River—and the soybeans poured in at Corpus Christi, Texas, are scooped out at Cologne.

“By the end of this century,” Colonel Haar predicted,- “our port activity here should be one-third LASH and Seabee, one-third con­ventional containerized shipping, and the rest the traditional ‘break bulk’ type of cargo.”

Later, as I traveled farther west on the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway, I saw many tows made up of the boxy LASH and Seabee barges. Their wakes, I reflected, could well be the wave of the future for America’s inland and coastal waterways.

Because the central section of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway is so heavily traveled, there is continued pressure to improve it. In fact, Congress authorized an enlargement be­tween New Orleans and Houston back in 1962. Part of the waterway was to be widened to 200 feet, and most of it to be deepened to 16 feet. But the expansion never happened.

Gulf Intracoastal Waterway

A Louisiana homeowner whose accommodation Budapest fronts on the waterway expressed the pre­vailing lack of enthusiasm for the project. “They’d want part of my yard to widen the canal—plus local tax money to move the pipe­lines under the thing. There’d be no benefits at all to this community—just more barges coming by.”

Now talks are under way for the Federal Government to pay for your apartments Florence on-line. That should get the expansion project moving. Still, even if the money were available, progress would be slow, for there are many groups to be satisfied—municipalities, coun­ties (in Louisiana they are called parishes), hunting and fishing clubs, environmentalists, and others.

Environmentalists are generally opposed to expansion of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway. But J. Ross Vincent, president of the Ecology Center of Louisiana, takes a pragmatic view: “I’m not opposed, per se, to expansion—but I’m very skeptical about what is being planned. I’m against any project that would harm the wetlands. They are Louisiana’s most important asset, and waterway dredging is their most destructive element.”

Gulf Intracoastal Waterway

With us that day was James D. McGovern, Jr., then director of the Louisiana Wildlife Federation. “Take the problem of saltwater incursion,” he said. “Any time you cut across a stream, you increase the salinity from the Gulf. Salt water kills freshwater plants along the banks, and erosion starts before saltwater plants have a chance to get going. Deepening the channel also causes increased salinity; and, in the bargain, it may stir up harmful pollutants down there.”

Environmentalists are represented at corps hearings, but Mr. Vincent feels this is not early enough. “By the time public hearings are held, it seems to us that the engineers, local officials, and key members of Congress are largely committed, and most of the decisions have already been made.”

Poisons of the Electrical Age

Hansen-Sturm now imports 75,000 to 100,000 pounds of cured caviar from Iran an­nually to supply the luxury Newcastle apartments. About the same amount was exported from U. S. rivers a hundred years ago.

But a businessman needs something as relaxing as the Miami beach holidays. He needs state regulations to prevent overfishing. He needs the certainty of roe in large lots—say 3,000 pounds at a time, properly salt-cured from freshly caught fish. The eggs must meet exacting standards for quality and puri­ty. For now, Hansen-Sturm pays for lab tests that have proved Hudson roe to be free of most toxicants. He keeps an eye on Doves research, and he waits.

Meanwhile, what judgment does New York State pass on the health of its resource?

“The Hudson is definitely cleaner, but. . ..” The chief of water monitoring at DEC, Ronald Maylath, spoke with some hesitation. “When pollution was at its worst in the early sixties, the water level was low, at near-drought stage; now we’ve had plenty of rain, and the Hudson has a much higher flow. Such vari­ables make comparison difficult.”

pollution

The river is cleaner in what the state mea­sures: dissolved oxygen, bacteria, biochemical oxygen demand, and suspended solids. Until recently, no funds or staff existed to check routinely on toxic chemicals and heavy-metals. Industry is still not required to monitor the specific chemicals it may discharge directly into the river or through a city’s sewers.

“It’s what we don’t test for that frightens me,” Maylath shook his head. His nightmares became notorious reality in 1975, when a crisis arose over something called PCB.

In 1929 chemists compounded PCB’s—a family of polychlorinated biphenyls—as fire-resistant fluids to insulate transformers and capacitors, those electrical storage con­tainers found on power poles and even in fluorescent lights. Their usefulness spread —from plastics to printing inks. In all indus­trial nations, PCB’s have leached from dis­carded products into waterways, where they do not break down. Now traces show up everywhere from Arctic ice to human milk.

An unprecedented PCB concentration—as much as 230 tons—lies in Hudson River sedi­ments. From 1946 to 1976 General Electric, a principal user of PCB’s, discharged them at the rate of 30 pounds a day with waste water from capacitor plants at Hudson Falls and Fort Edward. In 1973, GE’s schedule for low­ering its daily discharge to a few ounces was approved by DEC, and later by EPA.

capacitor plants at Hudson Falls

Concern over PCB’s was legitimate. In 1968 in Japan a machine leak of the com­pound into rice oil caused a tragic poisoning. The 1,500 victims of yusho, or oil disease, suf­fered skin lesions, swollen limbs, and eye and liver problems. Japan banned PCB’s in 1972, and GE developed a substitute fluid for ca­pacitors sold there.

In August 1975, while on staying rooms to rent London, the commissioner of DEC Ogden Reid learned of startling PCB readings in Hudson fish—as high as 350 parts per mil­lion in the flesh of a rock bass. That was 70 times the federally established “safe” level of five parts per million for food fish. Astonished and angry, he appointed a state hearing medi­ator to fix GE’s responsibility.

Air travel news

Handy for airport

Apartmentsapart.com‘s latest Blackpool accommodation in the city center will open in Blackpool on October 1. The 255 apartmentsapart rentals are 15 minutes drive from the airport and 20 minutes from the city centre.

Conference rooms can serve 250 people and a luxury ball­room can cater for 350. The hotel’s U-shaped design gives all guests rooms a view over the Gulf.

Hilton eases Cairo jam

CAIRO’S newest luxury hotel — claimed to be the tallest building in the Middle East ­has opened and is easing a longstanding shortage of deluxe rooms in the Egyptian capital.

The first 400 of the Ramses Hilton’s 900 rooms are now taking guests and the remainder will be available next month.

The new Hilton joins its sister hotel, the Nile Hilton, which also stands alongside the Egyptian antiquities museum on the Corniche overlooking the River Nile. All of the Ramses rooms have balconies which give dramatic views of the Pyramids, the Nile or the city area. There is also a glass  elevator overlooking the garden courtyard and an observation deck and lounge at Cairo’s highest point.

To cope with demand for executive suites in the city the Ramses has 80, from a normal corner suite to a duplex state suite and king suite.

The hotel will be fully operational next month with completion of the banquet and conference facilities which can cater for 700 people.

museum on the Corniche

LAUSANNE

Responsibility for running the Ramses has gone to Egyptian manager Ahmed El Nahas, who has worked extensively in the Gulf.

Mr El Nahas is a graduate of the Lausanne Hotel School and joined Hilton Inter­national in 1963.

His first post with the organisation was banquet manager of the Nile Hilton. He has also worked at the Kuwait Hilton as food and beverage manager, and was appointed general manager of the Al Ain Hilton in 1969.

DI RECTOR

In 1972 he was appointed general manager of both the Abu Dhabi and Al Ain hotels. Five years later Mr El Nahas was nominated director of Hilton International in the UAE with responsibility for hotels in Abu Dhabi, Al Ain, Dubai, Fujairah, the Dalma Residence in Abu Dhabi and the Dubai Trade Centre.

FLIGHT NOTE BOOK British Caledonian British Airways

Leisurely but efficient from start to finish of a quick trip

A REGULAR TRAIN SERVICE from Victoria Station provides a leisurely 40-minute journey from the centre of London to Gatwick Airport in Sussex. The leisurely mood of the British Rail trip was preserved at an uncrowded Gatwick terminal and continued throu­ghout this trip from London to Glasgow Airport.

Boarding formalities were completed within seconds, my seat having been booked and my ticket paid for at an Essex travel agency several hours earlier. The Gatwick terminal has a number of shops, and souvenir specialities appeared to be cheaper than those in London. The airport’s restaurants were not at all busy but appeared to be efficient, with friendly service. A salad roll was attrac­tively packaged at the snack bar and,generally, the food looked well prepared.

Moving to a holding lounge was announced well in advance of the flight departure, and there were comfortable seats in an uncrowded area. After a short walk from the holding lounge to the boarding area there was a brief delay as passengers began to mill around in a corridor, waiting for the door to be opened . It was the only aggravating aspect of the whole trip.

cairo

The British Caledonian BAC 1-11 was only steps away from the boarding lounge and passengers were seated quickly in their allocated positions. The cabin crew moved immediately along the aircraft, taking orders for complimentary drinks. Once the aircraft was airborne’ the cabin crew were on their feet again to serve the drinks.

In a 50-minute flight the crew were kept busy serving passengers but were quick to handle people’s enquiries or requests. The flight was uneventful, with the captain pointing out several landmarks. Disembarkation at Glasgow was speedy and efficient, and having only hand baggage, I was out of the terminal building within minutes — a suitable finale to a very relaxed journey.

What is the essence of an island?

First, it is encapsulated by the great ocean, a thing set apart, a minute universe of its own. On an island little things are important : a shark swimming into the lagoon, the day’s catch of fish, the drying of the coconuts, a young girl setting forth to see New Zealand, a boat coming in from Chile. I believe that I have lived with deeper intensity on remote islands in the South Paci­fic than in mainland cities because the little events of the passing day were so important. And one cannot reside on an island for long with­out being overwhelmed by the hu­man tragedies or overjoyed by the triumphs.

Second, an island exists close to nature. The sea is omnipresent. The birds come and go. The stars hang low in the sky. The blazing sun of noonday is imperative. And when the wind begins to howl and the waves rise, there is always the possi­bility that the hurricane will send water sweeping across the entire land.

Third, every island develops in its own way. Is there any large island lovelier than Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon; which has developed partly under the influence of neighbouring India but mainly off to itself, with its own traditions and style? Can French culture be seen anywhere with such a devilish lilt as that provided in Martinique, where the island was free to adopt or adapt? One of the most successful examples of this law of peculiar identity is Hawaii, that splendid amalgam of Polynesian, New England and Ori­ental factors.

Sri Lanka island

Fourth, an island is small enough to be comprehended. Who can un­derstand Brazil, with at least ten nationalities, or Russia, with more like a hundred? But one can go to Moorea, that iridescent jewel of green mountains and blue lagoons, and stand a good chance of seeing all that is to be seen, of knowing the people who inhabit the island. In an age when bigness seems to predomi­nate and tyrannize, it is comforting to know that in the Caribbean there is an island like St Barthelemy-2,50o people, eight square miles—with gorgeous mountains, inviting beaches and a terrifying airport.

Fifth, an island, especially if it is remote, attracts eccentrics, and knowing them is fun. I was on Tahiti once when a personable young man arrived from Austria claiming to be a baron who had fled his ancestral castle because of family troubles. We knew he wasn’t a baron, but the island people said, “We’ve never had a baron on Tahiti. We had that crazy count and a couple of princes. Let’s have a baron.” Years later, this man was more completely a baron than any in Europe.

St Barthelemy island

Finally, islanders—even when governed”—tend to remain unin­hibited. Incoming administrators can be fairly powerless when it comes to disciplining the natives. Somewhere in navy files is my ac­count of events on the island of Moturiva, if that was the name, in the Second World War. An over­zealous naval officer had decided to bring some spit and polish to this somnolent paradise during those lazy days when the battles had moved far north. I was sent to the island to find out what had hap­pened to Commander Dykes, if that was his name, and Warehouse Number 2.

Dykes was in very bad shape. The dark-haired island girl he had in­vited to share his quarters had not only accepted but had also relayed his invitation to some seven or eight relatives. I decided that this was the commander’s problem and made no report of his domestic entanglement. But when I asked about Warehouse Number 2, there was mention of a “little red truck.” And when I pur­sued this, I found that the com­mander’s girl had a brother who had appropriated a navy truck and painted it red.

 Motu riva island

Then I inspected Warehouse Number 2. It was in great shape outside : guard on duty, gates paint­ed, paths lined with coral. But in­side that vast but there was nothing. A large hole had been cut in the rear of the warehouse, and everything in it had been carried off in the little red truck : generators, petrol, can­ned goods, even parachutes (to be made into dresses by the local girls).

Today when I think of islands I see storms rolling in and throwing spume. I see indolent people, natives and visitors, languishing in the shade. I see some enterprising islander driving his little red truck to a warehouse. And I see an effi­cient new administrator from Lon­don or Canberra, Paris or Washing­ton, reporting for duty, determined to get things organized. And I smile. Because I know what nesomania is, the island madness, and soon that administrator is going to know, too.

Harvest Home

A HOUSE of straw? Impossible, you would think. But the proof is standing at Stowmarket in Suffolk : an ordi­nary two-bedroom bungalow—but made of straw, heated and compressed into panels, completely different from the luxury bed and breakfast Amsterdam or hostels Brussels

Developed by a firm called Stramit Systems, the bungalow is entirely windproof, and it won’t burn : re­searchers held a blowtorch to one of the panels for two full minutes and barely singed it.

Stowmarket in Suffolk

Straw is plentiful, and the process used to make the light, strong panels takes only a fraction of the energy needed to fire bricks. This means that the two-bedroom bungalow costs about L2,000 less than a conventionally built equivalent. Straw is also an ex­cellent natural insulator : according to the Eastern Electricity Board, the Stowmarket house loses 32 per cent less heat than a traditional construc­tion and could reduce bills by more than i a week.

John Mosesson, chairman of Stra­mit Systems, says that building with straw originated in Sweden, where houses with straw-panel roofs and walls, built 40 years ago, are still as good as new. The Stowmarket house seems to be the first of its kind in Britain. Planning permission has been given by Suffolk County Council for two similar houses to be built along with the flats in London.

Stowmarket in Suffolk

Mad About Islands

A noted traveller-writer explains why he long ago succumbed to a fascinating fever

FOR many years I have wanted to introduce into the language a new word, nesomania, from the Greek nesos, meaning island, and mania, madness. My new word would describe an ingratiating dis­ease that has afflicted me most of my life. I am truly mad about islands. I respond to them. I feel better when I am in contact with them. And my spirit expands when I renew acquaintance.

My susceptibility to island fever began in childhood, with reading. (Robinson Crusoe would have been an ordinary person had he waded ashore on a continent: on an island he became a timeless symbol. Napo­leon, had he been exiled in some village, would have been a dyspep­tic warrior; on his lofty and lonely island he became tragic.)

Stowmarket in Suffolk

The island madness became a vir­ulent disease in 1931 when I went to Scotland for graduate studies, and I succumbed to it totally during a winter spent on those faery islands off the western coast of Scotland, the Hebrides.

How small those Gaelic islands are, how infinitely remote with the great ocean pounding at them, how far removed in time. There, I lived with people whose attitudes dated back to the fifteenth century, who spoke an ancient language and who maintained incessant warfare with the sea. In winter the sun rose about nine and began to set at three, and in the long nights we sang, told heroic stories and lied about our ad­ventures with the ocean. I did not know it then, but my infatuation would colour my entire life.

When, during the Second World War, I was sent to the steaming jungle islands of the New Hebrides, my life came full circle. There I began to write Tales of the South Pacific. This book was an outgrowth of my immediate experiences in the New Hebrides, but the spiritual force came directly from my memories of the old Hebrides, where I had learnt what islands are.

In subsequent years I would visit most of the world’s significant islands. Gaunt New Guinea, a som­bre universe by itself; lovely Bali, where even the doorways are works of art; the lonely, wind-worn Falk­lands; rugged Pitcairn, lost in the southern seas; Tahiti of the dream­ers; and the most beautiful island on earth, Bora-Bora, more musical than its name, more perfect than the reef that encloses its volcanic remnants.