Flotsam and Jetsam

In maritime law, flotsam applies to wreckage or cargo left floating on the sea after a shipwreck. Jetsam applies to cargo or equipment thrown overboard from a ship in distress and either sunk or washed ashore. The common phrase flotsam and jetsam is now used loosely to describe any objects found floating or washed ashore.

Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition

Like anyone else who grew up in the area,
I have a history on or near the beach.

Lets start with the Nahant Beach House.
A huge Mediterranean like fixture on the
beach until the late 60's. It served as a
bathhouse with separate quarters for the sexes with changing booths, showers and tanning areas. It also served as a Metropolitan District Commission police station with a small lockup.

As kids we would come here and for a dime we would change in the booths and run through the tunnel under the street to the beach. It was a strange place with old duffers rambling around nude with a formality that was foreign to me. The showers were always a treat after the ocean. It was a habit I cultivated often swimming at the beach until 1 then riding up to the fresh water of the Lynn reservoir.

1963 July Richie, Gold and myself sample from
Gold's family liquor cabinet.
Gold was in the Sea Cadet Drill Team as were we, and lived
in Swampscott. I drank two tall glasses of scotch and milk.
A mistake. It ended on Kings Beach pictured below.

Gold was pretty pissed that he
might get in trouble because of me,
so he hustled us out of his house and


into Richie Dads 1961 Ford Galaxy.
Where I promptly puked.
Now, Rich was pissed too and he dumped me with Gold down by Doans at the Swampscott end of the beach. Gold was half drunk and pissed. I was thoroughly drunk. He started beating the shit out of me in righteous indignation. I remember him kneeling on me and choosing his shots. Eventually, he tired and left; I staggered around a bit annoying folks and then started calling the police on myself from a Call Box right on that pole there at the top of the staircase. They came and I had my first protective custody back at the bath house/jail.

I was there all afternoon, a Sunday. It was a family ritual to go en famile to some exotic destination, Kiddie Land on Route 1 or a "ride". My father came and collected me. I remember him knocking me out, or maybe I passed out. It is not clear. I made the paper. It was my first drunk.

But not my last. Bob C. and I spent my first night home from Nam on Lynn Beach, on the seawall with a quart of Vodka and many orange sodas. He was back from Nam also. We talked tons on how fucked up the Army/Marine Corps were. But not much about Nam. We both got shitfaced. I ended up crawling across the Lynnway to Bruce H's apartment and crashing. Bob did his Penguin imitation up and down the beach that night. We didn't have a clue.

It was right here, beneath the wall.

Down the far end by the ramp. We sat and drank and avoided what we had went through. I knew Bob forever. He was one of my first memories. He left Corbett Junior High in the 8th grade to work in a shoe shop. His brother had a Buick spray painted "Half Fast". Gloria , his sister, taught me how to ride a two wheeler. When I got out of the service I followed him into the GE. He nailed two of my girlfriends, that I know of, and probably a few more. I escorted him to get a lever action deer rifle once while he was tripping. I had to extracted him from being unable to explain, adequately, why he marked 'Alien' on the application. I had to act like his translator as he was babbling in Serbo-Croat, I think.

I got married in 1978 May. Bob was my Best Man. He was tripping.
I've lost track with him now. Maybe dead, maybe still in the GE.
Via Con Dios, Motherfucker.




Before I got married I rented what would be my finest bachelor pad. The above swank edifice, 285 Lynn Shore Drive, 2nd floor south corner. Right across from the Atlantic, on a clear day you could see Portugal. Well not quite. It was funky then, apartments not condos. I loved it. I biked to Nahant for exercise or floated in the surf right out my window. It was a great place, I sometime wish I were back there.