The mayor and his welcoming committee
stepped forward to greet the seamen who had
indeed returned from a living grave, as he
clasped the hand of the captain, the string
section of the Seldovia Municipal Orchestra
burst into the slow strains of "Too Long, Oh
Too Long, Have You Tarried."
As the music wailed into silence, the ma
yor fumbled for notes of a hurriedly written
speech. He and all his welcoming committee
on this memorial day were descendnts of the
mayor and the council which ruled Seldovia
back in 1946 and 1947, when the city’s resi
dents daily crowded along Anderson Dock to
strain eyes into the watery distances in
search of this ship.
Nervously the city’s head cleared his
throat, glanced about him, and then began:
"Friends, Alaskans, SeldoviansI Y.'e come
here today not to unload this ship, but to
sink it--"
Excitedly a member of his committee pluck
ed at his sleeve and in an audible whisper,
said: "Hey, that’s not the speech for to
day. That’s something we found in those old
longshoreman’s records when we were going
through the archives at the capital."
Flustered, the mayor tumbled through his
sheaf of notes, snatched another page, and
began his welcoming address. He spoke brief
ly but movingly on the happiness of all Sel
dovians everywhere on this auspicious occa
sion. He welcomed the relief shipTs crew
and officers, although his historical se
quence became somewhat confused when he made
frequent allusions to Daranof’s supplies,
which he seemed to believe had at one time
been loaded aboard this ship.
Again the helpful committee member pluck
ed his sleeve, and the mayor concluded his
address with a presentation. He drew from
beneath a covering of seaweed a barnacled
and rusty shipTs anchor, suspended from an
iron chain and meant to be worn necklace-fa
shion about the neck. This small memento
the mayor presented to the ship*s captain
with these words:
"To you, captain of this relief ship for
which so long we have waited, we present
this token of our feeling. May you wear it
always in constant reminder of this day--the
day your ship tied up at Seldovia to hang up
a new time record for a voyage in Alaskan
waters."
At the conclusion of the presentation,
the mayor looped the chain about the capt
ain’s neck and again
clasped his hand in
parting •
Slowly a proces
sion formed. Members
of the city council,
the welcoming commit
tee, and many heads
of fraternal and civ
ic organizations fi
led up the gangplank
and shouldered crates
and boxes of cargo
consigned to Seldo
via.
Meat that would
equal the choicest
dinosaur steaks in
freshness; eggs but a
shell of their one
time selves; oranges
and grapefruit wasted
to mouldering rinds
all were gathered up
and carried reverent
ly to the wharf where
the procession re
formed to march to
the civic center.
Again the string
orchestra broke into
music. To the caden
ced and solemn strain
of "No Lettuce Today,
Dear,*’ the marchers
moved toward the ci
ty’s heart.
and in the spirit
of the occasion, the
onlookers fell into
step behind the mar
chers to swell the
procession, as they
vanished into the
distance, the rhythm
of a chant that mark
ed the beat of their
steps floated over
the purple hills and
up to the snow-capped
peaks of the surroun
ding mountains.
As they marched, *
the crowd was chant
ing:
”0h, good grief not,
Can’t be the Reef Knot."