Dining Gold Reef City | Restaurants & Bar

Your party is sailing or traveling in a submersible (like the Apparatus of Kwalish) and interesting things besides combat happen!

1. A storm blows in and something strange is washed aboard the ship. You decide! (1d4):
   1. Treasure.
   2. A mermaid.
   3. A strange, half drowned bird.
   4. A dead deep sea fish.
2. Your submersible travels through a dense forest of Kelp and the propeller gets tangled and the party has to figure out how to dislodge without getting the bends/while under the immense atmospheric pressure under the sea.
3. The sounds of unearthly singing reach your ears from across the water. You find the remains of ships and sirens (mermaid like tricksters), but the sirens appear to have left.
4. A whirlpool full of teeth opens up just ahead of your ship and you have to sail to avoid it (think Scylla and Charybdis).
5. The seagulls are joined by other types of birds in the sky - perhaps something has gone awry on the land (perhaps a major forest fire).
6. Bio-luminescent jelly fish bloom at night, lighting up the water around you, creating a romantic and breathtaking atmosphere.
7. You find a dingy afloat all alone on the sea with a child/NPC with a story hook aboard.
8. The stowaway is revealed after someone finally took inventory of the stowed supplies below deck when the chocolate was disappearing in larger quantities than expected.
9. Seasoned sailors get seasick as you realize maybe something is wrong with the food.
10. You see a gargantuan entity on the horizon and the sailors start to tell tales. You decide! (1d4)
    1. Uk'otoa.
    2. Dragon Turtles.
    3. Giant Hermit Crabs.
    4. Sea Serpents.
11. You hit the doldrums. There is no wind and no current. The ship you are on has to wait until the wind starts again. Escape?
    
    1. The wind only starts on a natural 20 roll on a d20.
    2. Every day that passes uses up rations and fresh water.
    3. Once the food runs out, and the PCs begin to starve (failed CON roll with increaseing daily DC starting at 10) they may well begin to go insane.
    4. Cannibalism will resolve any hunger issues.
12. You find a message in a bottle floating near the ship. It's from a father to his children, writing to tell them how much he misses them while he's on the high seas. Optional bonus quest to find the children and deliver the letter.
    
13. One of the crew members caught a magical talking fish. The fish claims that if you set him free, he'll grant you a wish.
    
14. A dolphin has been following the ship for three days. A. If treated kindly, the dolphin shows the way to a hidden lagoon with treasure. B. Treated badly, the dolphin and its friends make a large hole in the bottom of the ship.
    
15. Things are going missing from the deck of the ship. If investigated, it's a bird. The bird has built a nest and is clearly trying to impress a potential mate with its newfound collection.
    
16. A strange formation of rocks appears a ways off the shoreline of an island. Closer inspection reveals that these are not rocks, but bones from an ancient dragon. Perhaps the hoard is somewhere nearby?
    
17. A sea witch happens upon the ship. She gives the party the "gift of communication" and casts a friendly spell before going on her way. The enchantment is aimed at the ship. For the next 14 days, the ship is sentient and can communicate with the crew. And boy oh boy, does this ship have some opinions!
    
18. A wave washes a large shell onto the deck of the ship. It's a instrument, and the first person to pick it up gains proficiency in playing the shell. The shell can lull any baby in a 10 foot radius into a peaceful slumber.
    
19. Fair wind: you arrive sooner
    
20. Shitty wind: you are forced to sail around your destination to gain favorable wind. Arrive later. Tacking negates this somewhat
    
21. A storm rolls in, but is just rain
    
22. A storm rolls in and creates fog, travel is slowed, but less than bad winds. A measure of a few hours, not days.
    
23. Two ships are fighting
    
24. A ship is fighting a kraken
    
25. A storm rolls in. Its a maelstrom
    
26. A traveling sea merchant rolls by.
    
27. Come across ship wreckage
    
28. Come across a patch of darker water that slows the ship
    
29. Ghost ship arises on the new moon is empty
    
30. Ghost ship arises on the full moon and is crewed by skeletons
    
31. Smaller ship tries to square up
    
32. Bigger ship bullies you until you pay a toll or tax, fights if you refuse
    
33. An island is sighted, but is not there when you arrive
    
34. An island appears on the horizon where you JUST checked (its an island turtle)
    
35. A rock appears where you swear there was nothing beforw (its a Gargantuan hermit crab)
    
36. You see an undersea fight that causes the sea to roll and boil, sometimes popping up above water
    
37. Coral reef! On a failed perception roll, boat takes damage and must be repaired. On a 1 it must be repaired 2x, once to stop it from sinking, and then again at port. A giant serpent surfaces and eyes the boat, eventually moving on
    
38. An empty ship rolls by, slowly. (Mimic ship with oozes below)
    
39. The sounds of unearthly singing reach your ears from across the water. You consider going after them, but decide not to (wis save)
    
40. Your rowboat ropes start to snap! Make a dex save, mending check, strength saving throw to save it.
    
41. A comet streaks across the sky
    
42. Aurora Borealis
    
43. You hear rumbling off in the distance. A volcanic island is erupting!
    
44. Seals follow the boat for a while.
    
45. A giant koi fish (river) or whale shark (sea) lazily circles the boat, then flips down to the depths
    
46. A GIANT WHALE APPEARS!
    
    1. Takes a chunk of the boat
    2. Bumps the boat off course
    3. leaps over the boat and hits the mast on its way
    4. smacks the boat with its tail doing damage
47. The waves grow choppy and the wind picks up. Unless intentionally slowing the boat, you get to your destination faster, but your boat might take damage
    
48. The bard begins to play a sea shanty. You all join in and have a great time
    
49. A massive, huge, giant, monsterous shark fin is seen. It then disappears without a trace
    
50. A Blue Whale (100+ feet long) breaks the water and bumps the boat
    
51. A Megalodon bites the stern of the boat, requiring repairs 2x. Trip is delayed by a few hours.
    
52. The sea grows calm. No magic works. Then, just as suddenly, the wind picks up, magic starts up, everything is normal
    
53. You see something sparkling on the beach of a small uncharted island.
    
54. You see something sparkling on an uncharted island. Its a message in a bottle
    
55. You pass by an uncharted island and see a fire. Its a marooned pirate, someone lost, nothing.
    
56. An albatross takes a rest on your boat for a while, then flies off
    
57. You see circling seagulls off in the distance. When you arrive there, there are some floating barrels with a dead body lashed to it, rum inside, food inside, repair supplies inside, cannonballs inside, treasure inside, an animal inside, barely clinging to life, a castaway bobbing in a barrel. You see a crate in the water. It has cannons, wood, food, ale, plants, silks, spices, sugar, a note atop showing a delivery island that is where you came from, the island you're going to, an island near it, an island you've never heard of, an island that Nobody has ever heard of.
    
58. A giant squid comes near the surface near the boat to warm up in the sun. Curious about your presence, it follows your ship for several hours before disappearing back into the depths.
    
59. A dragon swoops by, catching a ton of fish in its mouth, then flying away
    
60. A dragon attacks the ship, but is shown to be an illusion. You dont know from where it came.
    
61. Baba yaga, but it's an outpost on a rock
    
62. Giant hippocampus swims next to the boat and tries to get the party to throw it treats.
    
63. You fall off the ship! Before you can cry out the ship is already sailing on its way and you are lost overboard. Just as you begin to despair, a friendly merfolk swims up and asks if you need help. If you explain what happened, they kindly offer to return you to the ship.
    
64. As you keep watch, you look over the side. Roll a percentage dice. (1-10, 90-100 its real) you see a small creature tearing out boards to the side of the ship! Then as you look they vanish, and you hear a commotion from the other side of the boat.
    
65. A group of sea elves herding whales ask for help locating a missing calf
    
66. While sailing at night, the ship passes through a patch of bioluminescent algae
    
67. The ship gets lost in a magnetic field anomaly which causes their compass to spin wildly. A DC 17 survival check will get them out but off course. A 20 or higher will get them out while maintaining the proper course
    
68. A merchant vessel: a vessel that is a small market place, stocking rope, lantern oil, medical supplies, preserved foods, and other ship-borne essentials, maybe weapon maintenance, potions of healing and water breathing, that kind of thing. put some guards on it: a blackguard, a champion, and a warlord.
    
69. You encounter a Kelp Forest, a portion of the sea where the Kelp stalks stretch high above the waves, at least 40 to 50 feet. Who knows what kind of beasts might linger in the fog, nesting amongst the broad leaves and seed pods.
    
70. A pod of whales swims along side the submersible, a sudden wave lunges the sub to one side as a Roc dives into the water and grabs a whale. The roc's flapping and thw whales panic make for extremly difficult seas and the crew of the sub will needs to sucseed in a skill challenge to prevent catostophic failure of the machine.
    
71. An Iceberg that has been carved to be an Ice lich fortress on its underside sawrms with undead such as Merpires and Great Wight Sharks. The Party will have to find ways to make their vessal steathy or face a dire situation. (If in warmer climes, the Iceberg can be replaced with a floating coral fortress and the Ice Lich with a Merpire (Merfolk Vampire) Lord.)
    
72. The Party see a lake of dark liquid on the bottom of th sea bed. The substance is "Brine" super salty water that is low in oxygen, only the most hard bacteria can survive in it. it is used by many subnautical peoples as a holy sight to entomb their dead. . . Often with gold and pearls. When the Party are down in the lake, somethng knocks on the hatch.
    
73. The party comes across an abandoned ship, it’s in perfect condition and the party can’t tell why it’s been abandoned
    
74. You come across a huge abyssal plane of downed airships on the ocean floor after a dogfight. The ghosts all come to you to help them get home.
    
    1. home (denial)
    2. travel
    3. ascend
    4. seize (haunt/poltergeist)
75. A methane vent on the ocean floor causes anything in the area to sink at 10’ per round.
    
76. The lookout can see multiple sources of light below the water. If the party investigates they find a small village of sea people living in bubbles 100 meters below the surface. The bubbles contain oxygen and are possible to move through but also stand on.
    
77. You meet another ship, a merchant ship. However, you are informed that this particular ship used to be quite known for his crew and their deals … Until they sank 2 years ago
    
78. The ship is run aground on a sandbank (more plausible in archipelagos/shallow waters), so the players must find a way to dig the ship out or use enough force to push off from the bank (but not too much force to break the ship!)
    
79. You pass ovearound an island recently submerged underwater by rising sea levels (natural or otherwise). The tops of trees and buildings peak over the lapping waves, and if you glance down and squint you can make out the signs of a civilisation eradicated; fish swimming about abandoned hovels, overturned carts floating by, and even the occasional ghost wandering down dead roads.
    
80. Far in the distance, you can make out a naval battle raging. The distant thunder of cannons and a faint smell of brimstone linger in the air. Eventually one ship keels over, sinking beneath the waves.
    
81. A half-sunken ship containing a hag. She'll promise them anything they want in exchange for safe passage back. Obviously a monkeys paw scenario, helps a lot with the overtly good paladins etc
    
82. Found a floating city made from various buoyant materials.
    
83. Found a Djinn in a bottle.
    
84. Meet a trading Merfolk, selling anything they found on the seabed.
    
85. A dormant ship floating on the sea during the day. When checked, all the ship's crew are vampires, sleeping.
    
86. Your ship sails into a big area of thick, sticky gloop, stopping the ship's motion, trapping any oars submerged into the gloppy mass, and clogging up any rudders. How are you going to get out of this one? gargantuan sea-gelatinous cube!?
    
87. A Triton appears before your submersible anf flashes a big message, word by word, using Minor Illusion: "STOP!" "MIGRATING" "KRAKEN!" "TURN" "BACK" "NOW!"
    
88. A long riverboat is seen at the mouth of a river pouring into the sea. A closer investigation reveals it is a casino boat!
    
89. A ship rolls up on you, but it's someone going where you are and they challenge you to a race to get there. No magic can be used, some magic, all bets are off. They wager gold, a piece of information, a magic item. They are true to their word, they sail away, they attempt to destroy the ship, they vanish as you approach the island (they're ghosts) and you find the reward in the captains quarters.
    
90. You come across a large bed of giant clams/shellfish. They make for good eating and have several big pearls in them.
    
91. One foggy night you hear ghostly pirate shanties being sung over the waves. In the fog you can barely make out the black shape of a ghost ship before it disappears.
    
92. You spot a large kraken corpse with massive bite marks on it. Who could possibly do this damage?
    
93. While traveling through a kelp forest you see a raft of giant sea otters. Killing them for their fur will net you a ton of money at a market but is it worth earning the ire of a local sea goddess for doing it?
    
94. In the distance you sea a newly form volcano spewing out fire elementals to battle water elementals rising from the sea to snuff out the volcano.
    
95. A giant Octopus is tending their coral garden. They offer gold in exchange for seaweeds from far off places to put in their garden.
    
96. Has anyone featured an encounter with black smokers yet? Vents from the planets mantel spewing out pressurized boiling gas, causing pillars of what looks like black smoke underwater and a huge diversity of life that is strange and alien. You could combine that with a giant Bobbit worm made of smoke poking out of a portal to the elemental plane of fire. this is a vague idea.
    
97. Maybe come across some merfolk torturing a sapient giant electric eel, they are doing so to capture electricity that powers a magic artifact that keeps a merfolk child alive. free the eel and the child dies. leave it and a living thinking creature is tortured slowly to death.
    
98. While you observe the sea you notice a big shadow appear under the boat. A BIG shadow. A massive sea creature appears.
    
99. While sailing, suddenly it gets more and more foggy till you can barely see anything anymore. Suddenly you see a hazy ship coming out of the water and getting closer to you. The crew doesn't look normal (Black Pearl inspired)
    
100. You travel a long time on a boat with only a few passenger, you eat regularly together in the small tavern style restaurant on the boat and basically know all passengers by face. One day one of them disappears. Next day another one, and another one. The rest passengers get suspicious. The persons are nowhere to be found. The PCs try to investigate. In the end turns out a vampire is on the boat coming out when its cloudy or raining. (Dracula Series on Netflix, Second Episode)
     

Bonus: Combat Encounters 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14.
Edit 1: General comment about struggling with sub-lists. This got deleted in the great silliness of 11:30p on 7/11/2020 (see edit 2).
Edit 2: Well. Dang. That will teach me to edit and post only on a web form without a back up copy I had 78 things with complex lists for some of them and accidentally saved over them and lost all of that data. I'll have to redo it. Please don't down vote me in the meantime. I spent like 5 hours on it this afternoon and I'm devastated that I lost it all...
Edit 3: I've made a simple redo of the 5 hours of work and saved it elsewhere. It does not reflect the synthesizing of comments and repeats, the separating of combat from non-combat in people's suggestions, the removing of cuss words, the grammatical edits, or the embellishing that I did. I plan to do that in the next couple of days, but here is something in case you were counting on this list like tomorrow or something. Please note that the numbers may change on entries and if you comment on a specific entry, you may want to quote some of the content too. There are 20 of these that were originally combined, moved into combat, or otherwise not included in version 1.
Edit 4: the list says 100 but there are combat encounters in there. I still want to re-synthesize the list when I have a couple hours. I want to break out combat separate from non-combat, and possibly separate on the ocean vs. underwater.

continuing
As I was picking myself up off the shooter’s shack floor, I glanced over to the TV.
The ballplayers were all wandering around the field, looking skyward. Evidently, there was this hellacious explosion…even the television sports commentators were speculating as to what happened.
Whoops.
I looked out into the quarry. The wall that I had charged had receded some 75 feet.
There was rather a large amount of shattered, blasted dolomitic limestone now in the quarry. Enough, I found out later, for a full month’s worth of orders.
We never did find the blasting mats. I think they sort of evaporated.
Luckily, the quarry is essentially an open amphitheater in plan view; basically a big hole in the ground with vertical limestone walls. The shockwave of the blast that didn’t spend itself shattering the limestone into which it was housed, blew out laterally, hit the opposite quarry wall, rebounded, and then dispersed, rather energetically, vertically upward.
I set off car alarms for a 20 block radius.
There were no broken home windows, as the lion’s share of the shock wave was redirected upward.
Good thing there were no low flying zeppelins or dirigibles in the area...
I waited the requisite time to allow for any loafers. There were none, so I jumped into the nearest wheel loader and began clearing the quarry floor. Hell, I had to so I could open the front gate.
As I was clearing the floor, making pile number eight of the loose rock I had liberated, I heard the characteristic whoop-whoop of emergency vehicles.
I parked the wheel loader, opened the front gate, and raised the green flag. That was enough blasting for one day.
A few minutes later, three police cars zoom into the site. Two were local city cops, and one was a state trooper.
“Hi, guys!” I waved, “Nice day, innit?”
“Doctor Rock! We should have known.” One of the local boys groaned.
“Hey, I did call you beforehand, as per procedure,” I said.
Polack the cop walks up, just knowing I was responsible. “Yeah, but we didn’t figure on you terrorizing the entire city.”
“Polack! How goes it?” I asked.
The other local cop and the state trooper look to Polack, “You know this maniac?”
“Oh, hell yeah. For years. Don’t worry, the good doctor is mostly harmless.” He chuckles.
“Damn. OK. I guess everything’s OK. Just no more shooting today, please, Doctor. It’s going to take hours to calm everyone down.” He laments.
“Yes, sir. I’m done for the day.” I reply, snickering slightly.
The one local and state trooper depart, shaking their heads in amazement. This left Polack to follow me over to the shooter’s shack to mooch a cigar and whatever else he can find.
“Jesus Hula-Dancing Christ, Rock. What the hell was that? I was all the way out in Whitewatosa and heard you.” He asks as he sneakily snakes a smoke out of my case.
“Just some common chemicals in the proper proportions.” I snicker.
“Which were?” he asks.
I go in the back of the shed and toss him an empty container of one of the parts of the binaries I used. He catches it, reads the label, and drops it like a live grenade.
“Binaries? Fuck! Like what you used at the tower?” he asks.
“Yep. I used just a little more.” I reply.
“Little more? Damn, as I said, we’ve been briefed on the stuff. This shit’s nasty.” He shakes his head.
“Yeah. Fun, too.” I reply.
Polack grabs a Sprechler’s Cream Soda out of the fridge as I opt for a cold Cream Ale and shot of potato juice. Hell, I was done for the day, so…
We sit around and have a chat, just shooting the shit, as it were. Manly topics, so the conversation eventually steered over to guns.
“Hey!” Polack remembers, “That’s right! You fucking owe me. Let me borrow that fucking cannon you carry. I want to show the chief a thing or two.”
“Yeah, that’s right”, I agree, “When do you need it?”
“This Friday, after shift. It’s the monthly qualifiers for us.” He notes.
“Are pyromaniacs allowed in?” I ask.
“To observe? Sure. To shoot? Nope. Insurance regulations.” He says.
“What time?” I continue.
“1800 hours.” He tells me.
“I’ll be there. I’ll bring my gun and an assortment of loads. Hey, this could be fun!” I evilly smile.
“Doctor. You’re doing that thing again. You’re grinnin’ like a shithouse rat. You know how much that scares me. Stop it.” He pleads.
“No worries. Friday at 1800 hours.” I reply, grinning.
Polack slurps down his Sprechlers, snitches another stogie, and squeals out of the quarry in a cloud of dense dolomitic dust.
I arrive back at our flat, after stopping for two frozen custard Turtle Sundaes, to go. I give one to an appreciative wife and I ask her about her day.
“Oh, went shopping with Oma. Got the cutest shoes, and a new purse, and…oh well, never mind. You’ll see.”
Between bites of Turtle Sundae, she asks how my day went.
“Oh, my dear. I had a real blast.” I replied, not lying in the least.
Monday, after my first classes, I’m back in the faculty lounge, savoring a Greenland Coffee.
There was the usual instructor chatter when Dean Vermiculari walks in.
“Good morning, Dean!” I say. “Care for a sit-down and a coffee?”
“Good morning, Doctor Rock. Yes, please to both.” He replies.
I fix us both a fresh Greenland Coffee and return to our table. I hand him one and sit down to savor my soupçon.
“How was your weekend?” I ask the Dean of the College.
“Oh, very nice. Had a fine time catching some perch and crappie out on Lake Genever. I see you had a victorious weekend as well. Twice.” He smiles.
“Twice?” I asked.
“Well, your handling of the tower demolition made all the papers. Very, very well done, Doctor. I congratulate you.” He smiles.
“Thank you, Dean. That means a lot. Just doing what I can with what I’ve got. But twice?” I replied.
“It wasn’t front-page news, but I saw there was some, well, let us just say, ‘energetic activity’ out at the Silurian reef limestone quarry yesterday.” He grinned.
“Oh, yes. I had a job to do and well, as I always say: ‘Nothing succeeds like excess.” I smile back.
“Quite. This beverage you’ve created is really rather extraordinary, Doctor. Again, I thank you.” He tips his mug my direction in the age-old Midwestern salute.
“It’s a little recipe I picked up on my last expedition to the northlands. I grew rather fond of the concoction.” I replied.
“Ah, I see. Marvelous.” He smiles.
“Thank you, Dean. High praise indeed.” I reply.
“Which leads me to…ah, Doctor Rock. I have another favor to impose upon you.” He says, all serious.
“Yes, Dean? How can I be of service?” I ask.
“We, as you no doubt know, have many, many fine extractive mineral company connections. We actually receive quite a large amount of funding and endowments from them. They recruit here extensively for our young geoscientists. Now, since Dr. Pataariki has left for industry himself, I would like to appoint you as the College of Natural Sciences corporate liaison.” He explains.
“Indeed?” I replied, too stunned for words for once.
“Yes, indeed.” He continues, “It will require travel, mostly domestic, and delivering symposia at various companies on differing extractive geological subjects. You will also serve as host and university coordinator when they are present on recruiting tours. There will, of course, be additional remuneration to accompany the added responsibilities.”
I slurped my coffee, thinking furiously.
“Could I please first discuss it with my wife before I answer?” I ask.
“Oh, Doctor. Of course, of course. Take your time. I will not require a reply until… tomorrow.” He smiles, finishes his coffee, thanks me again, and toddles out.
“Yow, Es!” I exclaim, “This is one hell of an opportunity. It’s never before been offered to a junior professor. This will cement my tenure-track. It’s going to be a bitch with time, though. What do you think I should do?”
“Well, Rock, honey, I think you should do…” Es begins.
“No! None of that ‘do what you think is best’ stuff. I want your own thoughts, just like when I decided to go after my doctorate.” I explained.
“OK, then.” Esme looks all serious like she’s going to deliver a bipartisan political speech.
“Yes.” She says, firmly
“That’s it?” I ask.
“Yep. You asked I answered. We’ll make it work. We always do. You can’t let the Dean down. You will accept tomorrow without fear or qualms of your wife’s hesitations, of which I harbor none.” Esme proclaims.
“Did I ever tell you of the myriad reasons I love you so?” I ask.
The next morning I meet with Dean Vermiculari. He’s pleased that I accept and hands over to me the charter. Then the lists of company representatives, their contact information, and some other secret stuff that I can’t divulge right yet.
A raft of oil companies will be coming in the late spring semester, so I need to contact each and every one to solidify dates, times and positions for which they’re recruiting. But that’s for then, I have something more proximal for now.
I have a Friday appointment with Polack the cop at the town police shooting range.
I arrive spot on time with my Casull .454 Magnum pistol, in its carry bag, along with a small duffel crammed with Pyrodex, Tannerite, and selection of specialty loads I had Herman the German, the inveterate gunsmith, create.
Herman the German, his actual sobriquet, was this incredible gunsmith, craftsman, and all-around artillery specialist. Have any sort of problem with a rifle, shotgun, or pistol? See Herman. Gun holding too high? See Herman. Barrel warped? See Herman. Need solid gold projectiles for a certain one-off job? See Herman.
Herman the German can sort it out.
Just never ask him: “How?”
“Ach! I’ve lived so long to learn, and you want it free? I’ll fix it, you pay, but I am only one knowing how!”
Herman was a cranky old Kraut, and has lived here for as long as anyone can remember. Even my Grandfather had deferred to Herman when he had some particularly delicate machining operation that need special attention and was unique.
As far as anyone knew, Herman had no family, but was never at a loss for friends. He was one of the most popular, and well known, but still oddly really unknown, kind of mysterious, old bastards in the entire community.
Herman the German liked me because I could obtain for him certain high-energy things he couldn’t. All were entirely legal, but some were sort of out there in the gray zone.
He also liked that I was educated, as he held education in the highest esteem. He also liked that I was of German extraction myself.
I often made it a point to drop by with odd and unusual high-octane potables while never expecting anything in return other than a story or a shared cigar.
Herman created some special loads for my .454 Magnum, which he prized.
“I like your gun, Doctor Rock, it is so big! I can still see well enough to build things for it.” He told me one day over cheroots and Schnapps.
Herman was a character to be certain. It must have been the pixie in him to dream up some of the specialty rounds he created for me to share with the local constabulary.
He lived out in the county by himself in an old farmhouse. He had a full machine shop in his basement, complete with forge, metal handling equipment, and a firing test range.
He handed back my .454, rather solemnly.
“Doctor, I am afraid to say I couldn’t test all the special rounds I’ve created for you. I need to patch the hole in the cinder blocks in the downstairs range. Your gun punched right through the back…” he apologized.
Now, Herman does all sorts of work on the local’s deer rifles, the police’s ordinance and has even worked some with the Baja Canada National Guard. Some of the little novelties he’s dreamed up for me are the first to escape his homemade basement test range.
I felt oddly honored.
After proving who I was to the nice range officer, I looked around trying to find Polack.
“It’s 1550. Where the hell is Polack? I wondered.
“Rock! Over here.” Polack calls to me.
He motions me outside to the police department’s tactical outdoor range. I had thought all along he was referring to the indoors police target range. This might pose some problems.
The tactical range was a series of clapboard shacks, all setup and designed to represent some downtrodden urban inter-city landscape. There were a couple of junked cars, broken sidewalks, storefronts, houses, bus stops…in short, all things necessary to replicate the seediest sections of a settlement where malefactors live and breed.
The cops all run around this range, shooting at bad guy pop-up cut-outs and avoid the not-bad-guy pop-up cut-outs. They’ve got music blaring, firecrackers going off, all trying to re-create a shady deeply urban environment. Points are awarded by the accuracy of fire on the run, time to maneuver the course, and the ability of not gunning down innocent bystanders.
It is not the best place to test a .454 Cusall. This hand cannon recoils like a fundamentalist Christian being solicited for donations to Anton LaVey, shoots flames and incandescent gasses like Smaug after a hard night of drinking and a stop at the Taco Bell buffet, is louder than a dime-store Karen demanding to see a Manager, and more powerful than a Ghost Pepper suppository.
To quote Joe Piscopo: “It shoots through schools.” Especially faux-schools made of plywood.
A .32 or .38 cop special is the correct weapon here; even a 9mm is a little heavy. Enough power to make a serious dent, easy on control, light on the recoil…a good tactical weapon.
But, nothing succeeds like excess.
Polack’s Chief is running around, capping off his ‘big ol’ .44 Magnum, and making the valley echo. He punches considerable holes in the pop-up cut-outs, but has such a hard time handling the recoil, his score is barely passable.
Polack runs his test with his standard 9mm sidearm and qualifies easily. However, he’s nowhere near done with his Chief yet.
I suggest to Polack we have a shoot-off. And since a .44 Magnum bullet ‘is so close to a .454 Magnum’, which it isn’t…the .454 Casull generates nearly 85% more recoil energy than the .44 Magnum; that we’d need something other than holes punched in plywood to judge the efficacy of each.
We are literally just down the road from Max Yazzer’s farm and market. They’re the place you go for your Halloween jack-o-lantern. However, now, he has a surplus of melons.
I think you can see where this is headed…
I borrow Polack’s personal conveyance and run down to Max’s farm. I return with a trunk-load of elderly, overripe, cheap as chips, melons. Watermelons, Honeydews, Musks, and Casabas.
We place them in strategic areas on the course, five for the Chief to find, and five for Polack.
A .44 vs. a .454 melon-wise results in pretty much the same sort of mess: high-velocity fruit spatter. Although, the Chief was very impressed by the report of the .454. So, after running the tactical-melon course, clear demarcation of a winner was elusive.
OK, OK, clever dicks. How about this? A standing shoot-off? We’ll set up 3 melons each at 30, 20, and 10 yards. Beginning at 30 yards, your time will be until you take out all three melons. But, they’re not going to be in a straight line, we’re going to make them somewhat camouflaged. You will stand in one small demarcated area, hunt those miscreant melons, and bring them to justice. Fastest time and greatest display wins, as determined by the Police Peanut Gallery.
Polack and the Chief agree.
The Chief goes first and dispatches the melons, with a fair amount of spatter, in 15.3 seconds.
Not bad.
Polack is next. He wipes out all the melons and creates some thoroughly impressive displays with Herman’s ‘special’ rounds. Normal ballistics for the .454 are, for a 250 grain (16 g) bullet, a muzzle velocity of over 2,400 feet per second, developing up to 2,800 ft-lb of energy.
Herman’s hot loads are double that.
Polack wins the day on impressive high-velocity melon distribution, but misses, so close, with a time of 17.0 seconds.
Recoil’s a bitch.
Then there are Herman’s ‘specialties’.
The Chief is duly impressed and even comments that his ears are ringing even with the ear protectors. He asks to inspect the weapon. He is even more than duly impressed.
Polack knows what’s up and asks the Chief if he’d like to give a whirl.
Of course, the Chief can’t back down.
Polack loads the .454 with 5 of Herman’s specialties: hollow-point rounds loaded hot, compressed, and tipped with alkaline earth metals, like metallic sodium and metallic potassium…
We set up the nastiest, glorpiest, just barely-holding-together, overripe, laced with Tannerite (an impact-actuated low-explosive) watermelon at the ‘Concealed Carry’ distance of 5 meters.
We slowly fade back into the distance to avoid the inevitable ‘Gallagher reaction’.
The Chief fires one, and just nicks the top of the melon. Don’t laugh, with the type of recoil and heft of the sidearm, and tensing up in anticipation, it’s easy to be off the mark initially.
The second round impacts dead-center. Now, alkaline earth metals and water don’t get along really well. In fact, their relationship is explosive. Especially explosive when delivered at 2,900 feet per second.
The Chief catches a huge smattering of vitamin-packed watermelony back blast goo.
He’s not entirely happy. He looks positively grisly with all that blown-up melon schmoo on his nice, neat uniform.
He returns my gun and bans me from ever showing up at the police range again.
Polack is on traffic duty for the next month.
He figures it was well worth it.
Back at the flat, Esme is shaking her head and wondering if I’ll ever grow up.
“I may grow old, but I’ll never grow up.” I reply.
I see I have several missed phone calls. Ah, me; no rest for the weary. Back to company-university liaison duties.
After I had contacted these companies, I receive no less than 12 requests for symposia, talks, and seminars to be given to various level of industrial scientific employees in their respective companies.
I am now slated to give academic conferences on stratigraphy, sedimentology, and seismic structural geology to different companies in Houston, Oklahoma City, Denver, Casper, Corpus Christi, New Orleans, and Tulsa. In the next 12 weeks, I’ll be giving no less than 8 talks in seven cities.
I speak with Dean Vermiculari on how best to handle the situation. He understands and appoints two graduate student teaching assistants to handle my classes while I’m on the road. That relieves me of being physically there, but I still have to grade papers, compose lesson plans, and keep things running smoothly until finals.
Besides giving the talks, there’s travel to oil fields, production facilitates, manufacturing plants, hotels, restaurants while I’m in town…the pace is excruciating. I’m gone more than I am at university. Plus in my time back home, I’m still the ad hoc master blaster for the limestone quarry.
Then, there’s the companies arriving on campus, and the roles are reversed. Now I’m the welcome wagon and have to sort out the logistics of receiving the company representatives. I need to set up the colloquia to introduce the companies to the prospective students, arrange lodging, arrange passes for the university, transportation, “Meet-and-Greet’s, ad infinitum.
I knew this was having a bit of effect on me when I came back to the flat after one particularly grueling ordeal of canceled flights, full hotels, missed connections and lukewarm reception by the company workers.
“Hello”, I said, as I walked in the flat, “I believe you have a reservation for…”
Esme just stood there, wondering if I was having a laugh.
No, I wasn’t. I was completely hallucinating from road weariness, lack of sleep, jet lag, and total disorientation. This continued on for the next approximately 18 months.
Esme was beginning to have second thoughts about all this.
My teaching load was diminished by one whole introductory course. However, I was still flying hither and yon, delivering symposia, meeting with young geoscientists and getting to know the ins-and-outs of the Oil Industry.
I found it particularly fascinating.
Time marched on and it was once again it was the recruiting season. We had no less than eight oil companies visiting the university in their quest to swell the roster of their junior scientists.
I’m still busier than a one-armed paperhanger in a windstorm, but have settled into a groove of sorts. I know the company recruiters and they now know me. I’ve actually struck up friendships with several. Particularly since I take them to the best local restaurants and bars after their recruiting duties are finished.
I’ve met with recruiting representatives of Shrill Petrol, Mexxon, Nobil, Nocono Oil, Flug, Geddy, Brutish Petroleum, and Qexaco.
The recruiting season is winding down and I find myself with Red (not Adair), of Nocono Oil.
“Well, Doctor Rock”, Red states, “Another fine recruiting run. We’ve snagged two of your young geologists and one geophysicist. I’d say it was almost a perfect score.”
We’re sitting in the Norton’s Steakhouse. After a couple of prime pink porterhouses, we’re working on the post-dinner double vodka and bitter lemon for me, and Lagavulin for Red.
“Almost perfect?” I ask.
“Yeah. There’s been this one small nagging concern from our company higher-ups.” Red continues.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“We need some more senior people. For one thing, we’ve recently opened a new petroleum laboratory down in our Houston office. Going to need some serious talent to run that show.” Red says.
“I see”, I reply, “And…?”
“We need mentors. Those with varied and far-flung knowledge. They must be well educated, global in experience and stature, with an [ahem] diverse set of skills.” Red notes.
“Whew”, I agree, “That’s a tall order. You want my help with names of possible candidates? Is that it?”
“Not as such, Doctor.” Red drains his drink, motions for me to do the same, and orders another round.
Our drinks arrive and Red downs half his in one gulp.
“Well, then”, I continue, “How can I help?”
Red chuckles, “For someone so educated, you can really be thick as two short planks at times.”
I sit back, and sip my Old Thought Provoker.
The mercury-vapors light off.
“No!” I say, incredulously.
“Oh, yes.” Red smiles.
“No?” I ask, slowly taking in the possible effects of what he’s hinting at…
“OK, Doctor Rocknocker”, Red gets all serious and corporate, “We’d like to offer you a position at Nocono Oil as Senior Laboratory Manager and Head of Corporate Continuing Education.”
You could have knocked me over with a grenade. I was stunned. I fumbled with my drink.
“Red, you old con artist” I reply, “Is this a set-up?”
Red, serious as a heart attack, looks directly at me and replies, “Doctor Rock, absolutely not, it’s a genuine offer.”
He slides over a folder with some papers inside. “Here are the particulars.”
Reeling, I accept the folder. I open it and right after the corporate logos and legal bullshit, I see a tall figure with a whole raft of zeros trailing behind it.
I read furiously. The job would be both interesting and challenging. It would be in Houston, with travel and teaching at all other company outposts on a regular basis. I reexamine that figure from before and verify that I’m not now hallucinating.
The job comes with furnished, corporate-paid housing, incredible benefits, loads of opportunity for advancement, more opportunity to travel, really generous vacation time…
“Right. On the level?” I ask again.
“Yep.” Red bluntly says.
“Well”, I gulp, “you know I have to discuss this with Esme”, whom he’s met several times previous.
“Of course, and you probably want to finish out the semester, correct?” red asks.
“Oh, yes.” I reply. There would be a monsoon of paperwork and other grunt work I’d need to conclude or hand over if I were to accept this offer.
“OK, then”, Red finishes his drink, motions for me to do the same, a real rarity; but I was in another dimension at this point. He orders another round and sits back, waiting on a refill.
“You have two weeks to reply” Red states.
“I know that’s not a terribly long time, but we need to fill this position ASAP. Can I ask for that? Your answer, yea, or nay, within a fortnight?” Red demands.
“Yes”, I reply. “I at least owe you that.”
And that was the end of the discussion for the night about me joining the private sector. We stayed a few more hours, chatting, smoking my cigars, and discussing everything but the lumbering elephant in the room.
We part outside as I need to head back to our flat. Red wants to go downtown to one of those “Gentleman’s Clubs” he’s heard were so famous at the time.
I was flummoxed the whole cab ride home.
It was late when I returned, but I simply had to wake Es with the news.
“Rock, for pity’s sake, its 2 o’clock in the morning!” Es protests. “Can’t this wait until later?”
“Sorry, my dear” I reply, probably as serious as I ever had with Esme. “This is a potential game-changer.”
“What is it? Are you OK?” Esme trembles.
“Oh, I’m fine. Better than fine.” I reply.
She’s relieved.
“Then what’s so important?” she asks.
“Um…how would you like to move to Houston?” I ask.
“You going to teach at Cougar High (University of Houston)?” she inquires.
“Nope. Brace yourself. I’ve been offered a job with Nocono Oil.” I finally spill the beans.
Esme is slightly stunned and sits down.
I go to the wet bar, fix me a bracing potato juice and citrus and Esme a stiff white Zinfandel.
I hand her the wine and she is still semi-dazed and digesting the information.
I slurp a good portion of my drink, retrieve her Sobranjes and me a cigar from my Turkmenistan humidor.
I sit on the couch next to her and hug her soundly.
“Esme? Es? Earth to Es? You in there?” I joke.
“Oh, Yeah. Rock. Really? Hang on”, she leaves, returning with her housecoat as this might take a little time.
“So?” I ask, “Your thoughts. Now! Immediately! Initial reaction!” I try to jar her back into reality.
“Well, what do you want?” she asks.
“C’mon, my dearest. You know I hate that. No, what do you think? What do you honestly think?” I reply.
We both fire up our smokes, and I refresh our drinks. We return to the dinner table where Red’s folder lies.
“Es, here. Look at this.” I say, sliding the portfolio over to her.
She reads like a hungry man at a Vegas casino buffet. I can tell where she was stopped by something extraordinary.
“This is for real?” she asks, “Red’s not pulling a fast one?”
“Nope. It’s the genuine article”, I tell her, “He needs my reply within two weeks.”
“Rock, Rock…I just don’t know. It’s a lot to process at 0230 in the morning. Let’s go to bed and have a think in the morning. You have the luxury of at least that amount of time.” She notes.
“Right again, as usual”, I say, “Stuff it. It can wait.” We toddle off to bed.
The next morning, over Cuban omelets and Greenland Coffees, we sort through the particulars.
“Rock, it’s an extraordinary offer. But, do you want to leave teaching? I remember how you got all animated by Dean Vermiculari giving you the corporate liaison job and how that would improve your shot at tenure.” She notes.
“I just don’t know. I’m still shell-shocked.” I tell her. “Let me go to school and we’ll pick this up tonight. We both have work to do no matter what. Oh, bloody hell. I hadn’t considered your job. Another wrinkle in the mess.”
“Don’t you worry about that”, Esme smiles. “One catastrophe at a time.”
“I do so love you.” I hug her soundly. “Think I should mention this offer to anyone at school?”
“No. Definitely not.” Esme shakes her head. “Let’s figure this out on our own.”
“I agree”, I say, kiss her and depart for school once again.
The next week was a blur. Recruiting duties were dragging and I was being preoccupied.
Even my students noted the lack of in-room explosions lately.
I spend the next Saturday at the quarry, doing some small amount of blasting. I quiz the quarry owners about their progress in acquiring a new master for the quarry’s operation.
“Oh, Doctor Rock” they gush, “You’re doing such a fine job, we haven’t really looked. Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason at this time, I reply, “But perhaps you might want to begin looking”
The chinks in my armor were finally starting to show.
Sunday was spent out on Sliver Lake, with Esme and me chasing the elusive crappie, perch, and bucketmouth bass. It also gave us a chance to clear our heads from work, school and other such intrusions. We both needed a bit of downtime.
Later that night, after a meal of beer-battered fillet of crappie and perch on the barbie, we sit down at the dinner table.
The portfolio sits there, taunting us.
I get up, makes us both our drinks, sit down and declare that this is it.
“Es, darling” I say, “its nut-cuttin’ time. We need to make our decision.”
“You’re right.” Es agrees, “Time for risk-reward analysis. Get some paper and some pencils.”
We spend the next few hours listing the pros and cons of accepting the Houston position or staying here and pursuing my tenured professorship.
After several hours, I stretch, stand, and go to the fridge. I retrieve the bottle of Bollinger Les Vieilles Vignes Francaises I had purchased the other day.
I return to the table with the wine and the glasses, pop the cork and pour us both a glass of high-brow bubble water.
I hug and kiss Esme like I had just returned from a long, solo expedition.
“Esme, my darling. I’d like to propose a toast. First to us. Hа здоровый!”
“Cheers!” Esme replies.
“Secondly to Red, Dean Vermiculari, the quarry guys, Polack the Cop, and all the others that makes our life weird around here.”
“Seconded”, Es echoes.
“Finally: to Houston, Texas. Our new home!” I finally add.
The next morning, Dean Vermiculari peers over the top of his pince-nez glasses. He’s not looking overly happy with me right now.
“Why is it, Doctor, that everyone that receives the job of corporate liaison ends up going with corporate?” he asks.
“Perhaps it’s just the exposure to another world that exists beyond academia.” I reply, truthfully.
“Doctor Rocknocker,” the Dean gravely states, “I am not at all happy about your decision. We had great hopes for you here and you were riding right up the tenure track. Another five years and it would have been assured.”
“Five years is a long time, Dean”, I state the obvious.
“Yes, indeed.” The Dean replies frostily. “However, you are young. Perhaps you need to get this private sector nonsense out of your system, then you can return to academia where you belong.”
“Perhaps, perhaps”, I reply.
“Please, do consider this option down the road. You and your antics will be missed here, by students and faculty alike.” He says.
“I will, Dean, I promise.” I reply “However, for now, it’s time for my boot heels to be wanderin’.”
“Doctor, I will miss your strange and unique way of looking at life. I reluctantly accept your resignation at the end of the current semester and wish you all the best in your newest endeavors. Please remember us when corporate support for academia is mentioned in your new company.” he says.
“I promise you, Dean, I will not forget what I’ve learned here and what you’ve taught. It’s the least I can do,” I reply. “I will never forget my roots.”
“All I can ask”, he concludes. He stands to shake my hand. We shake and my audience is over.
I resign from the quarry a week later. They haven’t found a new blaster but wish me well on my new journey. I tell them I’m here until the end of the semester, so I won’t leave them high and dry.
I tell Polack the Cop about all the goings-on.
“Who the hell can I roust for beer and cigars now?” He whines. “Let me know when you get to Texas if they need any cops. I wouldn’t mind trying’ that. Hell, maybe a Texas Ranger!”
“A Cheesehead Ranger…?” I assure him I will and pass a box of cigars to him as a parting gift. He gives me a mayoral-signed get-out-of-jail-free card.
“Now you can drive that old Harley just as crazy as you want.” He chuckles.
“Thanks, Polack.” I say, shaking his hand. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I sold my bike a week earlier.
Red was very chuffed with the news.
“Snagged me a big one this time!’ He laughed, over the phone.
There was enough paperwork, considerations and decisions to be made to last the remaining time Esme and I had in-state until our move. Already, a moving company had arrived, done inventory, and was preparing for our move to Houston.
Esme resigned her position and decided she wanted to take some time off. She wanted to be a housewife, a colleague, and not have to work for once at an outside job. My new position allowed for that in spades. Besides with her credentials, anytime when she wants to re-join the workforce, there are myriad opportunities in the Bayou City.
We made the choice of housing out west of town, in Katy, Texas. We could have chosen Sugarland, Addicks, Greenspoint, Greenway, or the Memorial area. However, these west Houston company properties were closest to the job and largest in square footage.
My students got wind of my resignation and relocation. They threw me an unexpected farewell party at the Gast Haus. It was nickel-beer night and since they were footing the bill, it all worked out just fine.
I would miss the old place. The camaraderie, the seasons, the university; hell my home these last many years. I’ve been on many, many expeditions, but I always returned home.
Now, home was moving and was awaiting our arrival.
Esme and I said our farewells to our families as well. We were the first through college, the first ones to travel international, the first Doctor in the family, and the first to leave the state.
That’s a lot of familial firsts.
I had to keep reminding everyone it wouldn’t be the last. Hell, we’re just moving to Texas, it’s not like we’re off to Greenland or Mongolia…
[Gasp]
We saddled up Es’s old Chevy Nova, took one last, lingering look in the rearview mirror, and said fare thee well to our previous lives.
“We’ll be back. Someday. I promise” I told the city of our youth and young married adulthood.
We decided to drive to Houston because we had the luxury of a bit of time. We needed the stretch to chew over some interpersonal and private things on the way to the next chapter in our lives. Besides, the weather was good, the roads ahead open and clear, and Texas had no ‘Open Container’ law, yet.
We pointed the old Nova south and hit the gas.
A week later, we’re wandering around our new house in Katy, Texas. Our belongings, scant though they may be, arrived the day after we did. Esme and I spent the next couple of day rearranging the house, buying necessary domestic bits and pieces, and getting to know our new neighborhood.
First thing, though, Esme wanted to replace the old Nova. I concurred, but insisted we keep it as a second car and went out to purchase our first new car as a couple.
I wanted a Land Rover. We ended up with a glossy black Toyota 4-Runner. Close enough.
I was scheduled to show up at my new job the next Monday.
I had my own parking spot, complete with “Reserved for Dr. Rock” painted on the bumper block. I was shown my new lab and was introduced to my seven laboratory assistants. I was shown the catalogs I could use to order what I needed and went over the requisition procedures.
I was trotted around to meet the company CEO, CFO, CIO, VPs and many, many more company executives and managers. I’ve met with presidents and heads of state, I was impressed but not overly. They seemed like a more or less nice bunch of chaps.
Almost exactly five weeks to the day from our arrival in Houston, I come home, yelling “Darling, I’m home!”
Esme comes to greet me with a rib-rearranging hug. She tells me to sit at the dinner table, where my long hard day at the office drink, cigar, ashtray, and lighter are already set.
“How was work, dear?” she asks, sitting down with her Perrier water.
“Oh, it’s going great. The knotheads let me have an open-ended budget until I get the labs sorted just the way I want it. These guys pay their bills on time and I have carte blanche at Wards Scientific, and other supply houses. My crew is great, no interpersonal crapola, and hard workers. I can smoke in my office and no one dares give me shit about my cigars. I’m getting to know the exploration department quite well. They’re really interested in our expeditions and are more interested in my opinions of their new exploration directives.”
Esme just smiles and sips her water.
“Odd”, I thought.
“That’s great, dear.” She says. “I am so glad to hear it.”
“Me too”, I say, “How are you holding up after all these weeks alone?”
“Oh, I’m getting used to it.” She smiles.
And smiles. Beatifically. Glowing.
“What?” I ask.
“Remember what we talked about in the car on the way down here?” She asks.
“We talked about a lot of things…” I say, suddenly my eyes grew very, very wide indeed.
“Yes. You’re going to be a father. I’m pregnant, Rock.” Esme smiles.

The period following the end of the Liberation of Brazil was one of good feelings and America basking in its own glory.
The Progressive Era that was ushered in by the election of Samuel Clemens back in 1896 continued well into the 1900’s. President Kimball continued his administration well into a third term, before leaving office in 1904, to be replaced by another Labor Party president, Quinten Allen (Labor, New York). His administration was defined by his focus on the destruction of the so-called “political machines”, breaking up several large trusts, and cracking down on the dismal conditions in urban industrial workplaces, continuing the anti-corruption and pro-union efforts of the Clemens and Kimball administrations.
However, despite the progress made in advancing the strength of unions, cracking down on corruption in the federal government, Allen would not win reelection. Much of it had to do with his infamous extramarital affairs, but it also had to do with the hijinks of Congressman Ned Kelly (Labor, Illawarra) in Australia. A Labor Party extremist notorious for attempting to shift the party further to the far left, the Congressman from the state of Illawarra ended up being arrested in 1905 for a bizarre scandal involving collusion with a small group of communist bandits in the southeastern Australian bush. News of this was spread by opposition newspapers across the USAO, and the Labor Party would require a decade to break free from the stigma of “attempting to institute godless communism across our righteous Union”.
As sudden as this sounds, this was actually the flashpoint punctuating a long-standing struggle within the Labor Party. The struggle pitted the civic nationalist, social democratic (as in, economic social justice within a capitalistic framework) faction, against an internationalist, revolutionary socialist faction which sought to turn the former spirit of Manifest Destiny into a worldwide crusade to liberate the proletariat. Kimball had managed to briefly bring these two factions together for 1896, while sidelining the most extreme militants. However, shortly after his first election, this alliance began to fall apart very quickly, boiling over into brawls in the National Acropolis, culminating in an event even worse than the Kelly Affair. On May 28th 1907, Senator Andrew Takahashi (Labor, New Texas) brought his gun to the National Acropolis and attempted to shoot moderate Labor senator, Edward Brenner (Labor, New Texas). Takahashi’s assassination attempt failed, and he was dogpiled by everyone in the chamber, as Senator Roberto Gutierrez (Conservative, South Peru) wrestled the revolver from Takahashi’s hand. The fact that Senators from across the political spectrum came to Brenner’s aid in that moment was satirically seized upon by satirists as “the first Congressional consensus in four years”. The aftermath of the Kelly Affair, the brawls in Congress, and the Brenner assassination attempt cost Labor a victory in the 1908 Presidential Election, and the far-left faction broke off from the Labor Party completely, to form the American Workingman’s Party – the farthest-left political party in USAO thus far.
Anyway, in 1908, the Liberal Party succeeded in getting their first president in the White House, Wilbur H. Porter (Liberal, New South Wales). A representative born and raised in an upper-middle-class Buenos Aires neighborhood, he was the first British Argentinian president of the USAO, and his faction of the Liberals managed to win over the more centrist Labor voters left disillusioned post-Kelly Affair, while also out-lefting the more conservative members of the Liberals. He respected the Labor Party’s fervor for social justice, but felt they were getting too extreme in some regards and believed their goals could be achieved through other means.
Despite defeating Allen in the 1908 election, he and his faction of the Liberals in Congress formed a coalition with the defeated Labor Party, to push for a resolution to the “Amazon Question”.
Since the 1880’s, the Amazon Territory knew the horrors of logging camps, gold mines and rubber plantations worked by enslaved indigenous peoples. Entire towns were run by companies like Firestone, who regularly bribed the territorial government. And after the expansion of the Amazon Territory in 1901, you had large forces of armed mercenaries keeping these slaves in line. These mercenaries were mostly former soldiers of the Imperial Brazilian Army, who didn’t even bother hiding their distinctive tattoos; ironically, many were former IBA officers descended from Confederate soldiers. The mercenary armies would occasionally wage war against each other over territory, limbs and digits were amputated every day, and sexual assault was an instrument of terror.
The entirety of the Labor Party, along with the Porter Faction of the Liberals, and a surprisingly large two-thirds of the National Party, came together in Congress to push for the Amazon Territory to be abolished and replaced with a new “Amazon Federal District”. Opposing them were the Conservatives and the faction of the Liberals led by Theodore Shepherd (Liberal, Pennsylvania – Porter’s opponent in the 1908 Liberal Primary), and the remainder of the National Party. The Whigs, who represented the small states of the Caribbean and Central America, abstained from voting. The Whigs objected to what they felt was an over-reach of federal power, while at the same time sympathizing with the intentions of the Labor-Liberal coalition.
In the end, the Labor-Liberal coalition was successful in passing the Amazon Preservation Act of 1910, creating the Amazon Federal District. A federally-deputized paramilitary known as the Amazon Ranger Corps was formed to shut down the logging camps, mines and plantations, which led to pitched battles between these federal troops and the mercenaries. Backed by desperate rubber, gold and lumber barons, mercs under the command of Confederato Nataneal Whitaker (a former IBA colonel) attempted to wipe out the ARC garrison in Manaus, as part of a larger effort to establish a secessionist “Free State of the Amazon”. This insane plan ended in failure, as Nataneal’s troops were defeated and forced to retreat back into the rainforest to be pursued by the Ranger Corps, and the conspiracy’s backers were arrested. The “Manaus Incident” only convinced Congress to tighten the screws on their proposed regulations on economic activity in the AFD. Said regulations would declare huge swathes of the Amazon to be federally-protected nature preserves, and would limit the number of trees that could be cut down. Additionally, the AFD’s labor regulators would regularly inspect the rubber plantations and gold for incidences of abuse or exploitation, and ensure that the workers were compensated for their labor and that extraction and cultivation techniques remain sustainable. Other than that, the AFD would pretty much be OTL DC, only writ large and with more jungle. Make of that what you will. And in addition to preventing abuse of the locals, the Amazon Rangers would be responsible for search and rescue, tracking down poachers, and enforcing general law and order in the Amazon, though major cities like Manaus and Belem would retain their own police forces.
The AFD was only the most radical of the USAO’s national parks, however. President Felix Strong created the first national park, Yellowstone National Park, in 1875. Avid nature-lover Aaron Kimball signed into existence national parks in Northern California’s Redwood Forest and Yosemite Valley, Entre Rios’ Iguazú Falls, Colorado’s Grand Canyon, the Alaska Territory’s Denali, East Florida’s Everglades, Mato Grosso’s Chapada dos Guimarães and the Galapagos Islands. Under the Allen and Porter administrations, Tasmania’s Great Barrier Reef, Deseret’s Zion Valley, Alta Colombia’s Ciudad Perdida, South Peru’s Machu Picchu and Nazca Lines, Yucatan’s Chichen Itza and the ancient Inca roads of the Andes, were added to the federal government’s protected natural wonders and archeological heritage sites.
Throughout the early 1900’s, the Caribbean states began coming into their own. By 1910, Port-Au-Prince was the most advanced city in the Caribbean. Rebuilt after a devastating earthquake in 1892 with the latest in seismically-resistant structures and electrical infrastructure, the capital of Haiti received a flood of investment and was modernized, as was the rest of the state. As part of the electrification program begun under the administration of Haiti’s greatest governor, Jean Bolous (Liberal, Haiti), the island’s first telephone lines and power plants were built, and the economy of the island boomed with the increased demand for citrus fruits in North American cities. Additionally, the island began building up a strong manufacturing base in the eastern part of the state (“Spanish Haiti”) though widespread corruption would lead to child labor going on longer than in many other parts of the USAO.
Elsewhere, over in the Lesser Antilles, you had Trinidad & Tobago undergoing the fastest rate of industrialization in the whole of the West Indies, with its oil, asphalt and natural gas fields and refineries expanding rapidly amid the pristine Caribbean jungle. Close behind Trinidad was Jamaica, with its more diverse mixed economy which really came into its own during the Progressive Era; a large garment sector, agriculture, refining of petroleum products from Trinidad and Gran Colombia, bauxite, gypsum, iron and alumina mining, a friendly tourism industry, and the Caribbean’s premier insurance and financial services, all allowed for Kingston proper and Jamaica as a whole to flourish in the early 1900’s, rivalling the growth and commercialization of the ascending Port-Au-Prince. Fruit, coffee, iron, bauxite, sugar and fishing in the other island states kept their economies afloat, as did tourism from middle and upper-class folks hailing from the rest of the USAO, as well as Europe.
Politically, the Lesser Antilles were (and, today, still are) dominated by the Whig Party. The Whigs are a right-of-center conservative political movement which stresses fiscal responsibility and social moralism, a very “quaint” party preoccupied with limited spending, manners, state autonomy and local politics. They promoted the modernization of the islands’ infrastructure, the expansion of education, and the prohibition of alcohol. That last one would become the impetus for the “Wild West Indies”, a very long period of bootlegging and moonshining, equal parts OTL Prohibition, Wild West and Golden Age of Piracy. Though Whig politicians had some limited success in Central America, Polynesia and Australia, after a while, the National Whig Convention stopped seriously trying to expand their influence beyond the Caribbean.
A little further to the north, in Dixie, the Reconstruction Era was in a way still ongoing. Though now, only a few Military Districts remained. West Florida, Arkansaw and Louisiana. In 1904, West Florida and Louisiana experienced a major revolt by Copperheads and Bloody Shirts. The situation never got worse than West Florida and Louisiana. In West Florida, the capital of Mobile was occupied by the “Confederate State of West Florida” and loyalist citizens (black and white alike) were forced to arm themselves and build barricades as federal troops put down the uprising. And in Louisiana, roving gangs of white supremacists in New Orleans staged a failed ethnic cleansing attempt against its black population. There were also sporadic insurgent attacks in Louisiana, Arkansaw, Georgia, East Florida, South Carolina and Oklahoma. One of President Kimball’s last actions was sending federal troops into the Old South to quickly suppress the racist uprisings, though the role of National Guard units, law enforcement, local militias and armed civilians should not be discounted. Bloody Shirts were undersupplied, outnumbered and most ended up surrendering upon encountering armed resistance.
This would be the “last hurrah” of neo-Confederate sentiment. The rebellion was crushed by federal troops and ragtag militias, received very little public support, and actually extended the date for which West Florida and Louisiana would be readmitted into the Union, from 1906 to 1930. Oklahoma, Georgia and Arkansaw, for not going entirely under rebel control, were readmitted on time in 1906.
With the exception of the 1904 Rebellion, Dixie had come a long way. Aside from a few crazy people, the Confederate surrender at Nuevo Paz was considered the best thing to ever happen to the “Old South” (as Dixie is also known). The process of redistributing land to former slaves and educating both freedmen and poor whites had the effect of economically empowering blacks and mitigating (if not eliminating) much of the racial animus one would have otherwise associated with the region. The extremists were marginalized, and so by the time the 1904 Rebellion rolled around, the insurgents who had counted on the “white man awakening and rising up against federal tyranny”, found out the hard way how wrong they were in their assumptions. There was no “white awakening”. The masses of the Old South rejected their cause. Violently, in fact.
Further to the north, in New York, the city’s now-famous skyline was coming along just fine. New bridges were being built. Newfangled motorcars fresh off the assembly lines had begun to quickly replace the horse and buggy on the city streets. The New York Subway System was opened in 1905. And the world’s tallest all-metal structure was built in 1906 on Coney Island. Costing nearly $1,500,000, the Globe Tower is an eleven-story, 700-foot-tall structure, containing restaurants (one of which rotates), an observatory, a United States Weather Observation Bureau and wireless telegraph station, a vaudeville theater, the world’s largest ballroom, bowling alley, a cinema, roller skating rink, casinos, 50,000-room hotel, 5,000-seat hippodrome, and four large circus rings, where PT Barnum’s famous troupe put on a show for the Globe Tower’s opening day. And the whole thing was fully electrified.
Meanwhile, out in the North American West, the suffragist movement was gaining steam. The movement had already swept Australasia. The states and territories of the former republics of Australia and New Zealand gave their women the right to vote and run for office just prior to joining the US, and this equality was grandfathered in when they became new American states. The presence of Australasian suffragists emboldened suffragists across the USAO, with their most dynamic successes being made in the Rockies, beginning with Auraria in 1890, where the frontier economy actually created the circumstances for strong and empowered women to emerge as major players in their communities. The movement also reached the states of the Canadian prairies, and then down into Mesoamerica by the late 1890’s. Congress finally gave women the right to vote via a 1910 constitutional amendment, which was greeted by a suffragist demonstration in Liberty City, DC. Elements of the Conservative, Labor, Whig and National parties resisted the move, for different reasons.
Speaking of Australia, about a decade after the political union with the United States, things were getting interesting. The people of Australia still thought of themselves as “Australian”, but also part of a larger nation of which they were proud to be members. Increasingly, immigrants from the New World crossed over the Pacific to Australasia. Many were “Yankees” from North America, though there were also plenty of Hispanics who made the journey over, looking for opportunity. The federal government encouraged this, as well as immigration of Australians (white and Aboriginal alike) to the New World, in order to encourage a sense of common nationhood, with similar exchanges taking place in the Philippines, New Zealand and Polynesia. However, the Aboriginal community (which is much larger in this timeline because a dead Indian sailor washed up on the Australian shore around 45 BCE) was split on whether or not they wanted to be part of the USAO. They were already split on the Australian republic. During the Australian Revolution, they formed an alliance with the white settlers against the British. The hatchets which were buried resurfaced after independence, though the Aboriginals were unable to really put up a united front – not in the Australian Congress, nor in the form of armed militancy - due to tribal politics getting in the way. However, small numbers of Aboriginal separatists attempted to resist the US government in this time period, to very little success.
The Russian Imperium gifted the Statue of Brotherhood to the United States in 1902. The statue was placed at Middle Head, at the mouth of Sydney Harbor in the State of Illawarra. Dubbed by the newspapers of the time as “Lady Liberty’s Brother”, the statue stands about as tall as the Statue of Liberty, but it depicts the Roman citizen-soldier, Cincinnatus, holding a Fasces (rods bound together around an axe - a symbol of republican brotherhood and strength of unity) in his right hand, while leaning on a plough with his left, to symbolize peace and prosperity.
All across the Pacific, the US was integrating its new island states and territories. Submarine cables were laid between the various archipelagos, connecting them to each other and to the Australian and American landmasses, as well as to the Philippines, China and Japan. Infrastructure projects on the islands put the natives to work and put energy into the economies of the island states. Investments in education worked to bring the locals into the 20th century, though this sparked plenty of conflicts with more conservative elements of Polynesian society. Given the vast expanses of the United States, it was one of the first nations to fully embrace commercial air travel. Airship flights to the Pacific states and territories boomed, as did airplane flights, though these would not truly take off (excuse the pun) until the 1920’s.
The USAO dominated all of Polynesia, save for the independent kingdoms of Tonga and Samoa. However, the first step towards turning the Pacific Ocean into “an American Lake” began in 1907. In that year, the Samoa Reform Party won the position of Prime Minister, after winning half of the Samoan legislature three years previous. Established by a coalition of native Samoan Unionists and American expatriates (mostly missionaries and businessmen), this was the successor to the banned Samoan Unionist Party, which was outlawed in 1888 by the Samoan monarchy. An attempt by the Samoan king’s monarchist supporters to regain control of the legislature and prevent an inevitable annexation into the USAO resulted in a small civil war. Samoan nationalists targeted anyone they could find who was not ethnic Samoan (Americans, Chinese, Japanese), as well as ethnic Samoans who desired political union with the USAO. It got crazy, and after fervent debate in Congress (overshadowed by the Amazon Question), it led to United States Marines invading two years later, in 1909. King Tanumafili I was forced to abdicate after a referendum in 1910, establishing the Republic of Samoa. The republic voted for annexation in late 1911, though the Samoan nationalists would not go quietly, continuing the fight for about eight years. The impact of Samoa’s annexation would make things…interesting, in Tonga.
Over in Brazil, most of the region was still under US military occupation to one degree or another. Though increasingly, local recruits began to outnumber the outsiders, and the last remnants of the IBA surrendered in September of 1908. That being the case, a new rebellion began to spring up. In spite of all that, however, the Italian Empire gifted the United States a statue of their own, the Statue of Equality, which was placed in Rio de Janeiro in 1906. More similar in design to her sister up north, this 151-foot-tall statue was carefully placed atop Mount Corcovado (the OTL location of the Christ the Redeemer statue), holding up a set of huge scales, with a sword wresting against her thigh. The “Lady of Rio” wears a toga, Phrygian cap, laurels, and a blindfold over her eyes.
And finally, a little to the south, a new state was carved out along the borders of Chile and New South Wales. For over thirty years, low-intensity guerilla war raged between loggers and the indigenous Mapuche people in the Araucanía region of Patagonia. Realizing that they couldn’t hope to fight their way to independence, Mapuche activists became a persistent presence in Liberty City, arguing and lobbying in favor of a new state for the Mapuche. Their efforts ultimately bore fruit in 1910, when the State of Araucanía was admitted into the union.
But for all the USAO’s good fortunes, big trouble was on the horizon in the Old World. More on that in the next chapter.