Gull Rock

Gull Rock stood near the breakwater around the Old Road. It was massive - wide as a house and easily as tall as a two story building. The gulls congregated there each morning and afternoon, so thick that you could barely see the top. They screeched and pecked at each other and from a distance it appeared as a solid, gray-white cloud formation. Layer after layer of guano had built over over time and the old rock was weathered and worn down. Nana claimed to be able to predict the weather by the activity of the seagulls and each morning she checked on them, standing on the side porch, eyes shaded against the bright morning sun. Only after that did she plan her day. Red sky at night, sailor's delight, she taught me, Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.

Davey Allbritton got the idea to climb Gull Rock simply because no one had ever done it. There was nothing to be gained by it, we told him, you reach the summit and you're ankle deep in seagulls and birdshit. But Davey was stubborn and he began to make his plans. He measured, sketched the rock from every angle, took pictures with and without the gulls, with the tide in and the tide out. He considered and discarded several possible climbing methods -
ladders, weights, even a parachute drop - the last he dismissed as impractical as he hadn't a plane. Eventually he designed a complex system of ropes and pulleys, weights and counter weights, harnesses and a safety net. He planned his assault for the last week in August and after taking an oath of secrecy and saying a short prayer for high tide and calm winds, he told us when and what time.

The day dawned bright and crystal clear and I crept out of the house undiscovered. Gull Rock was already covered with birds and the closer I got, the louder the noise became. Hundreds of seagulls were resting or flying on and over the rock, soaring and diving in patterns clear only to them. Davey was already on the rocky beach and laying out his equipment. He had thrown ropes across the rock and weighted them down on both sides with buckets of bricks and stones. He had fashioned the ropes into a makeshift ladder and up he climbed, hand over hand, step by careful step. The gulls flew in agitated circles over his head, some even attempting kamakazi style dives at him but he waved them off. He had soon actually reached the top and stood, hands raised toward the gull-filled sky in a gesture of triumph, delicately maintaining his balance on the slick guano and dodging seagulls at the same time. Behind him there was a brilliantly rose colored sky and in front of him a wide open ocean. Also behind him, although unbeknownst to us, was my grandmother who had witnessed the entire expedition from the side porch and could scarcely believe her eyes. Beside herself at the prospect of Davey's imminent demise, she had crossed the blackberry patch, jumped the ditch, and was bearing down on us at record speed. In her silk robe and flat soled slippers with her hair undone and flying around her face, hands bleeding from the blackberry thorns, she was an awesome sight. She reached the guardrail and pausing only to draw a breath and began screaming at the very top of her lungs, DAVEY ALLBRITTON GET OFF THAT ROCK THIS SECOND AND DON'T YOU DARE FALL!!

A startled Davey lost his balance and saved himself a breakneck fall by clutching the rope ladder for dear life. As he started back down, an avalanche of curse words poured from my grandmother in between her shouts of MIND YOUR FOOTING! and DON'T LOOK DOWN! When Davey was again on safe ground, she sank to her knees, one hand gripping the guard rail, the other pressed to her chest, breathing hard and breathing fire. We scattered before she could begin again but of course were all rounded up by breakfast and returned to her in the back of Uncle Shad's pick up truck. We were a sorry bunch, except for Davey who refused to be repentant. He stood with his hands jammed into the pockets of stained jeans, jaw stuck out in defiance. In exasperation, Nana gave him a firm swat and sent him home with his word that he would tell his folks what he had done so that she wouldn't have to. The rest of us were lectured severely and at great length, scolded about the dangers we'd invited, and how badly she had been frightened. She held out her bloodied, bandaged hands with a See what you did expression that made us all cringe with guilt.

Nevertheless, Gull Rock had been conquered.

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