The Tide-E-Bowl Traditional Geocache

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Hidden : 5/3/2006
Difficulty:
2 out of 5
Terrain:
1 out of 5

Size: Size: micro (micro)

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Geocache Description:


Due to the proximity of another cache, we were unable to place our cache here. We wanted to tell the story, though, so we placed a nearby cache. From there, you could have a lovely .3 mile stroll, collect Nana & Papa Bear's Track the Dragon cache, have a look at the Tide-E-Bowl, and continue on to Union Wharf. Three waterfront caches and the Tide-E-Bowl. Not bad. There is nothing to find at the Tide-E-Bowl for the purposes of geocaching, but we hope that the story will encourage you to go have a look. The picture on the cache page does not do it justice; it is much worse than that. The coordinates for the Tide-E-Bowl itself are: N48 06.913 W122 45.199 They are available in the micro as well. Have fun!

Grafitti in the park

“So What is this Thing?” By Sean Morse
(Reprinted from The Pier, August, 1997)

A few weeks ago, I happened to be working a Circle of Fear show at the American Legion. During a break after soundcheck, I was relaxing in the spotty sunshine and heard a family of tourists approaching. Not an unusual sight on a warm Sunday afternoon in Port Townsend, but nearly always an amusing one. The youngest, a sandy-haired boy about six or seven years old, ran to the edge of our world-famous tidal clock and shouted with excitement; "Wow, what's this thing!?!" To which his mother replied sharply, in that hyper-concerned manner that only a mother can; "Get away from that...sewage tank, Johnny! You'll catch something!"

Despite myself, I laughed uncontrollably. Not at her protective maternal instincts, or her failure to appreciate nor even recognize a $200,000 masterpiece of modern art, but because her instant impression of this concrete sinkhole was exactly the same as mine when I first set foot in this 'berg, some eighteen months ago.

My first day here, my friend Kit was giving me the grand tour of PT, showing me all of the in's and out's of Water Street and introducing me to some of the characters and haunts which makes this town what it is. After a brief conversation with one of PT's finest, I was escorted to the rear of the police station and told that I was about to witness the singly most bizarre fixture in the town. I looked at the monument through sunglasses spattered with a winter afternoons drizzle, and asked; "You took me back here to show me an open sewer'?"

The Ruth Seavy Jackson Sculpture Project, otherwise known as the "Tide-E-Bowl" by local residents, is an object of mystery, controversy, rumor and legend. I realized on that sunny Sunday that although I had been told the basic premise behind the masonry basin, I knew very few of the gritty details, and though most long-time PT residents probably wished that they had heard the last about this political boondoggle, many recent immigrants such as myself might find this story interesting. If nothing else, it provides an amusing microcosm of small-town politics and a textbook illustration of the Peter Principle. (A theory which asserts that, among other things, anything entrusted to a committee will be a complete failure.)

Delving into the research for this article, the first thing that I learned was that Ruth Seavy Jackson was a woman whom I am sorry that I never had the pleasure of meeting. The documentation of her life and experiences through the memories of her friends, relatives and others that she touched here in Jefferson County paints a portrait of someone of undying energy, passion and humor. Reading her history I felt the familiar distant pang of wishing that somehow I could sit and drink coffee with this person, and just listen to a few of the stories and bits of wisdom amassed through the labyrinth of a rich and adventurous life.

The bulk of the research for this story was conducted in the library of the Jefferson County Historical Society, which she was elected President of in 1948. The library is located in the loft of the JCHS Museum, which Mrs. Jackson herself founded in 1951. Seemingly, everywhere that I turn to find information on this concrete monstrosity I find another corner of this community that she has touched in some way. It is like a diabolical treasure map, as if the dubious monument itself is not the true eternal memorial of a life well lived, but merely a first weigh station, a blaze on a trail indicating the direction which to travel in your quest for what she has truly left for all of us.

Were it a finished or even moderately attractive sculpture, with a plaque memorializing its benefactor, there would be no call or inspiration to dig any deeper for its hidden messages or the life that it memorialized. But it is not so, and sits, awash in flotsam and the aromas of low tide, with no marker of credit to she who funded it, nor fingers pointing to those who bungled it. It beckons us to look deeper, and ponder what other great mysteries might be merely abandoned public service projects. Perhaps Stonehenge was merely the bare framework of a colossal structure or machine, commissioned by a Druidian Emperor, it’s funding squandered by lawyers and planners and pseudo-artistic Intellectuals, and left less than half complete by a construction crew who was given blank stares and lame excuses one fateful prehistoric pay day.

A long time friend of Mrs. Jackson, James (Bonzo) DeLeo, theorized; "Ruth never felt like she got recognition for what she did. She pushed through the museum, was real active in the Chamber of Commerce and the Democratic Party and in all these causes, someone else got the credit. I think this whole sculpture thing was her way of saying; “Now you're going to have to pay some attention to me!" (Quote taken from RUTH SEAVY JACKSON SCULPTURE PROJECT DOCUMENTATION ©1989 By Bob Boardman) If she did have the prophetic foresight to understand the full implications of leaving 100 monkeys with 100 typewriters and $200,000 to do what they will, than Ruth Jackson has crafted with her memorial, as surely as Captain Kidd did with his elusive treasure, an assurance that she will never be forgotten.

Mrs. Jackson left this world on May 12, 1982. She was 76 years old. Upon her death, she bequeathed the bulk of her $200,000 estate "to erect a sculptured object or artistic monument". On October 28 of the same year, the first public hearing for official public comment on the project was held. Most of the sixteen people that testified that day favored the construction of a community cultural arts center of some sort. As of January 10th of '83, however, the arts committee had decided that the gift would be used for a sculpture rather than a usable structure. Now, the question is posed what SORT of sculpture? And where'? Some of the proposed ideas included a statue of James Swan to be placed at the foot of Adams Street (sure, that's exactly how I'd want a final gift of mine to be used, to memorialize someone else! Gee, thanx.), and a stairway linking Washington and Jefferson streets. Possible sites included Point Hudson, Kah Tai Lagoon, Pope Marine Park, and other waterside sites on Water Street.

Now, with these ideas tossed about like a Styrofoam cup in an ugly concrete basin, the committee made its most controversial recommendation, one which would haunt the entire project to this day; they recommended a jury of five `arts professionals', gallery owners and museum curators, all to be from other cities. Only after a thunderous amount of public outcry was a local artist, Anne Hirondelle, chosen to serve on the jury along with the five imports. A conceptual contest was held, with entries being sent to artists from all over the country. Among other things, the mailer stated; "The jury is looking for contemporary work of the highest caliber"….Right. Contemporary work, in an historic district that is so bound up that you can't hang out your shingle unless the colors are approved and the signposts are regulation.

By the end of January 1984, the committee had received more than 111 conceptual submissions to the contest. The jury was set to arrive on Valentine's day to visit and get a feel for the town, to graze over what everyone here already knows well, to form uneducated opinions, and to be paid $200 per day, plus accommodations, plus meals, plus travel, and then to leave, not having to ever deal with the consequences of their flippant mood of-the-day opinions. At a committee meeting, a leaflet was passed out. It read; "When we build and forge, let you think that we do so forever. Let it not for present delight, not for present use only. Let it be such be such a work that our descendants will thank us for, and let us think as we lay stone on stone, form and fabricate that a time is to come when those things will be admired for the nobel devotion of the spirit, and that we will say as they look upon the labs and wrought substance of them, See! This our fathers did for us.

Additional funding for the site included $50,000 from the NEA. This is probably something that should be kept a secret, considering the danger that program is in. Were I a policymaker, and saw this as a result of federal funds, whatever program was even partially responsible would be quick to fall to the headsman's axe. if for no other reason than to prevent another town from having to endure another sight such as this one.

FTF honors go to Shunra, who suggests as a clue I should say it's not in the NP. So, it's not in the NP. And, it is a film canister. Bring your own pen.

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