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How did Santa get to the boat?
POSTED: December 25, 2005:
Morro Bay, CA
HO HO HO!!!!
Merry Christmas! Feliz Natal!
Wishing happy holidays to all.
~ Kristian Beadle
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POSTED: April 26, 2004:
Morro Bay, CA
In the search for affordable housing, I came accross an unconventional idea: living on a sailboat. Since I work at a restaurant that overlooks the bay, I was greeted with a daily view of inspiration: anchored sailboats, flocks of birds, and the sunset. The prospect of free rent, peaceful solitude, combined with a million dollar view, was too enticing to dismiss. After a month of intensive research I settled on a 29ft Columbia sailboat, and a bank loan which would essentially leave me bankrupt. But hey, it's home owner-SHIP, right? Excuse the pun...
The challenge was that the home port of this lovely boat (to be named the Tabula Rasa), was in Long Beach; given my very limited sailing experience, the prospects of my surviving a single-handed 200 mile journey up the coast to Morro Bay seemed dim. As luck would have it, the owner of the boat volunteered to sail with me to Santa Barbara, to give me a "sailing lesson". I had also met a recent graduate from SF's Marine Institute, who, even though her expertise was with navigating container ships, was convinced that this was an adventure worth undertaking. Lastly, a tall ship sailor turned massage therapist (friend of mine) took pity on our plight - "Point Conception ain't no piece of cake" - and joined our eclectic crew on the last minute.
The only imagery that comes to mind, when I think of that memorable sailing trip, is that of a sadistic rollercoaster, taking hellish drops before careering into a heavenly ascent. The speed at which everything would turn into the chaos of black proportions, and then swing into dream-like order, was astounding. An overheating engine, a leaking gas tank, the ensuing seasickness sprouting from gas fumes, were some of our tribulations; cruising under sail with dolphins, basking in the sunshine enroute to Santa Barbara, singing and storytelling during the nighttime 4 hour shifts, were some of our more blessed moments. Unpredictability! how invigorating.
When we pulled into Morro Bay Harbor, I felt very fortunate indeed. Of course, the difficulties didn't just cease; there remained issues of safe anchorage, battery power for my lights, the porta-potty, access to drinking water, etc... After some serious organizational stress though, I managed to arrive at an ideallic situation: my little taste of free ocean-side living!
Kristian Beadle
POSTED: February 11, 2004:
San Luis Obispo, CA.
The summer after graduation, I tackled the traditional "backpack Europe on a shoestring" adventure; and when I returned to the States, I had many choices to make. My family lives in Brazil, and since California continues to feel like home, the question remained: where do I live? Returning to Santa Barbara had a strong appeal, but it seemed too... convenient. I roamed the coastline, visiting friends, occasionally applying for jobs, and that's when I stumbled into SLO county. I was immediately drawn to the coastline, full of great waves; and plus, the small-town atmosphere and pristine environment seemed ideal for me right now. I thought, what a perfect place to embrace a lifestyle of simplicity and non-material happiness, in my post-college transition.
Kristian Beadle
I wanted to keep my priorities simple: surf all day, work at night, and pursue all those things I'd left for the "backburner". In college, we have so many ideas, but no time to follow through with them. Finally, the opportunity is here, and though self-discipline is not an easy feat, I'm taking the first baby steps towards those ambitions that have remained dormant: I'm developing my writing skills, in the form of a novel and magazine articles; getting certified in massage therapy, which I'll accomplish by mid-April; and delving into yoga, tai chi, and capoeira. I'm also reading an exorbitant amount, which is a very rewarding process when done for one's personal pleasure and study. It took me a good 5 months, of wandering and rambling, to figure out how to mold my new life; but through luck and perseverance, I feel the puzzle pieces are finally coming together! The last few years at UCSB were one big jumble of "study study... party-eat-sleep... study study...". Now it's all about balance and continuity, a predictable and even mundane routine. How refreshing. It feels like I have breathing space, time to absorb all the stimuli, and look forward to where the surge of creative momentum takes me.
Perhaps the standard path would be to commit to a "serious job" and make lots of money. But for the time being, I'm having a great time serving pizzas and bartending, two evening jobs which keep my days free. I wake up at sunrise, surf or mountain bike in Montana de Oro, enjoying the ocean and rolling hills. I'll work for a few hours (which gives me ready access to good food), then read & write to my heart's content. And to top it off, I have massage school three times a week. As for the future, I'm looking forward to working at an international company starting sometime next year. I'd like to use the skills I learned at school, so I'm continuing to study Chinese and European languages, as well as exploring all kinds of intellectual tangents. This is perhaps the greatest thing about "down time": studying for one's own sake, which, in turn, helps develop personal energy and motivation. I must accept that future obligations may well lead me to a "9 to 5" career job, which is enough to set the heart of any carefree wanderer a-trembling; so how could I entertain that possibility, without first, fully embracing this current ideallic lifestyle? I just hope that I can continue to balance those two sides, being structured yet free form, as time goes by. My fortune was to have left college with such momentum for learning, and a thirst for experience, that I search for novelty and beauty on a daily basis - and for this I can only be thankful to my friends, my professors, and my family.
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Kristian's Journey Through Europe Summer 2003
POSTED: November 14, 2003:
Kristian Beadle, Global Studies Class of 2003, had an intense journey through Europe in the sweltering heat of the summer after graduation. After dishwashing in Germany, he hitchhiked through Croatia, then helped out at an Italian restaurant. He then ended up in the Basque country of southern France.
He has sent us all the following photos to post and share with everyone. Enjoy!
Lisbon, Portugal: the architecture in European cathedrals is awe-some.
Walk through the heavy doors, the altar ahead of you, shining golden
by the surrounding stained glass; turn around and piercing light blinds
for a second, dramatically enveloping the cross.
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Lisbon, Portugal: Art, politically correct or not.
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Bilbao, Spain: The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao is amazing, a voluptuous
edifice of curved titanium stuck in the middle of an industrial port
city. A huge flower-covered cat guards its entrance. I am convinced this
is the modern day equivalent to the cathedral: its sheer unbelievability
draws tourist pilgrims from around the world.
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Paris, France: This suspicious looking character is in fact the most affable
Mina Girgis, TA extra-ordinaire at UCSB. In yet another gleeful twist
of fate, I arrived unplanned during Mina's 3 day sojourn in Paris, as
he followed a North Indian band around tour in Europe. Random indeed.
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Lyon, France.
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Lake Chiemsee, Germany: I worked dishwashing at a nearby hotel. On my day
off, I rode a bike around the 40 mile lake, enjoying the blissfully calm,
sunny weather. The wind suddenly came up, dark clouds poured out of the
Alps, and I made it back to shelter as the first thick drops of rain
fell.
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Lake Chiemsee, Germany: My friend Lauren from UCSB came out of the blue
for a visit, just as my restlessness began to climax from working long
stuffy hours in a kitchen. She suggested I come to Vienna, where she
practiced modern dance; so off I went.
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Lake Chiemsee, Germany.
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Vienna, Austria: Empirial monuments blackened from time. An impressive
testament to "past glories" - or was it past oppressions? We
complain at the loss of civil liberties today, but how else did past
empires amass wealth but through coercive power? It is a hypocrisy to
take pictures of grandiose monuments, then complain about the empire-building
tendencies of our own government.
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Dubrovnik, Croatia: This town is surreal, a historical gem. The stone streets
were smooth as marble, centuries of shuffling feet polish the floor.
Tiny alleyways, no trees... lots of Italian tourists.
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Dubrovnik, Croatia: On the Mediterranean Sea, this town thrived on maritime
exploits, and survived on diplomacy. The powerful Venetian Republic sought
to control it, so adept diplomatic maneuvering was needed to establish
a buffer zone for protection; this historical quirk denied Croatia the
claim to a 30 mile stretch coastline, which Bosnia-Herzegovina now controls.
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Dubrovnik, Croatia: I stumbled onto the "Miss Croatia 2003" competition
one night, much to my delight. Girls in bikinis, skimpy dresses, the audience
is ready, and then... technical problems. No light, everything is dark.
An improvised light beam is used for this impromptu performance: a local
guitarist summoned to entertain the crowd, while the girls dance awkwardly
behind him. My original delight is now even greater, as I am witness to
3rd world ingenuity in the face of technological breakdown.
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Vis, Croatia: My campsite on a little island, where I spent several days
slothing between the warm water and the shade. I arrived late one afternoon,
and when I awoke the next morning, to my great surprise, I was directly
in front of a nudist beach. You know what they say: "In Rome, do
as the Romans."
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Split, Croatia.
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Pula and Split, Croatia: We forget that the Balkans, rife with their own
inter-ethnic problems, are next door to Italy. The remains of the Roman
empire scattered around Croatia give their shared history a tangible
feel. We all gawk at these two thousand year old monuments, irrespective
of what nation they now lie in.
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Sant'Anna Morosina, Italy: Martino gave me a ride while I was hitchhiking
in northern Croatia. He mentioned being a cook at his family's restaurant
near Venice; I offered to work for free, in exchange for fresh homemade
pasta and a bed. After 3 weeks of frugal camping, I jumped on the opportunity
like a wounded beast. I couldn't have guessed that besides peeling potatos,
I would be invited to a bachelor party in the mountains, a music festival,
and the offer of lifelong friendship.
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Ferrara, Italy: A week-long festival of street artists in a medieval town.
Crowds filling the cobblestone roads, every corner a new performance:
flamenco, African drums, spray paint art, fire juggling, or rock&roll.
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Venice, Italy.
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Nice, France.
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Biarritz, France: The snack bar overlooking the beach; everyone hangs out
here between surfs, feasting on an incredible range of salads, fresh
cakes, and homemade pastries. There is no rush to go anywhere!
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Biarritz, France: The owner of the snack bar. A hyper cheerful lady, she'd
let me help organize the tables and chairs at the end of the day, in
exchange for chocolate croissants. We struck a publicity deal, where
she gave me a t-shirt of her snack bar, so long as I'd take pictures
with it in front of famous sights during my travels.
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Biarritz, France: The family with whom I stayed for almost a month. "French
people are just angry Italians"
claimed Francois, the father. It is true, they continually yelled at each
other, at their dog, at the radio; but their hospitality was unwavering,
an honest generosity I found difficult to repay.
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Bayonne, France: I wandered by chance into a rare event - the christening
of a massive new bell for this cathedral. TV crews captured the whole
ritual, interrupted by catholic songs reverberating the hall, my contribution
coming in an awkard mix of bad voice and broken French.
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San Sebastian, Spain: ethnic conflict does not limit itself to politically
unstable regimes. It is here, the minority Basque folk asserting their
right to autonomy; it is everywhere, to a certain extent.
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London, England: A childhood friend of mine was in London, studying economics,
when I discovered you could fly there from France for a mere $25. The
catch: I arrived at 1:00 AM, all subways were closed, so I had to walk
2 hours along the Thames River to get to his apartment.
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London, England: The symbol of this great capital, the Big Ben, captured
with the Debololo t-shirt, from Biarritz. Fulfilling my end of the publicity
deal, an unexpected service towards French-English diplomacy.
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Amsterdam, Netherlands: The contradictions in this city live in suprising
harmony. Hash Marijuana Museum down the street from Van Gogh; sex shops
and psychedelic drugs in 17th century buildings, surrounded by picturesque
canals. An enviable mix of hedonism and restraint.
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New York City, USA: information overload, pretty pictures flashing, back
in the US!
Kristian Beadle
krikrigoiaba@yahoo.com