Over the winter I discovered a pound net stake had washed ashore lodging itself here in the marsh and salt bush. At 45’ long I wondered how many jet skis it had taken out in its journey. Obviously, this was a highly valued artifact. I was tempted to re-float it, allowing the battering ram to continue its laudable mission, but it’s straightness caught me. A more radical thought occurred. Might a flagpole be raised? Just how far our stick had travelled was a mystery. The closest stakes in use I’m aware of are off Reedville, many miles up the Bay from Mobjack. The local watermen stopped using pound nets decades ago. With a shovel, chain and tractor I dislodged the pole. Hefted upon several sawhorses, I stained it white, tapered the top for a soup can cap, tarred the base, hand dug a 9’ hole with post hole diggers and auger, and then, a fellow trimming the neighbor’s trees agreed to raised and drop our pole in its new home with a cherry picker. A bullet eye as a masthead hoist, $5 of crab pot line for a halyard, a hand fashioned cleat from ipe, a couple brass snap shackles and we had a flagpole. I was amazed at how solid just dropping gravel in the hole locked the pile in.
I couldn’t locate one of those pretty rainbow flags a few are so spun up about, so I’m sure the one I chose will offend a couple. What kind? Who knows these crazy times. Well, can’t please everyone and some can never be pleased. I’m happy and proud of our efforts though. Oh, and it works!