Naked in the Sand (2015)

The book launch at Books and Company in Picton on December 20th, 2015 was a huge success with the date coinciding with the arrival of my 71st birthday! To see a few photos of the celebration, scroll down to the bottom of this page.  The price of the book is $25.00. If you need a copy sent to you, please send a cheque in the amount of $35 (includes postage & handling) to Terry Sprague, 23 Sprague Rd., R.R. 1, Demorestville, Ontario  K0K 1W0. The book is currently available at Books and Company, in Picton, and at The Local Store on County Road 12 (during the operating season). The perfect book, guaranteed to make you laugh!

Some excerpts from the book

Author’s Preface: Like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz, I was not only merely dead, but really most sincerely dead. At least, that’s what the staff thought at the conservation authority where I worked. My colleague had received a phone call earlier that day from a friend who asked in a panting voice, “Have you heard? Terry suffered a brain aneurism this morning and was rushed to hospital!”  My supervisor put her work on hold for that day and made a frantic call to the hospital in Picton, and was assured that I had not been admitted there. She tried Belleville, with the same result, then Trenton, and she even tried Kingston. Same response. So, she phoned her informant who had reported the tragic news earlier that day, and asked if there had not been some mistake.   “Well, maybe he never made it to the hospital. Maybe he died!”  Fortunately, for her, at least, the misinformation she had received earlier that day had been sorted out. When I came into work the next day, the staff remained somewhat aloof; one by one working up the courage to venture close enough to touch me lightly on the arm as validation that I was indeed, alive, and not an apparition of some kind.

Glenora Fisheries Research: There was an issue with one of the dead rats. This rat had tried to escape back into the wall after apparently succumbing to the poison and was firmly stuck in the narrow space between the wall and the floor. Clearly, it had been there more than a couple days. In the remaining space between the floor and the lower edge of the wall, the rat’s body was flattened almost to the size of a piece cardboard. Somewhere in the wall was its head and torso. Forced out by the pressure and the beginning of decomposition, its back end ballooned out like some grotesque, hairy cartoon character. Grabbing its tail without even benefit of gloves, I wiggled the carcass back and forth cautiously. Thinking I saw it give a bit, I wiggled some more and exerted a bit more force. The body seemed to be holding together quite well, so I gave it one final tug. Without warning, the tail, flanks and back legs all separated from the carcass and I staggered backward, trying to maintain my balance with the back end of the rat still firmly in my grip. “OH, MY GOD!…LORDY!” exclaimed the staff member who clearly had never been exposed to anything like this before.

Sandbanks Provincial Park: Suddenly, she spied me leaning against the tree with my camera and started coming toward me.  As she came closer, I became acutely aware that she wasn’t wearing a bikini, but rather, a thong. As she turned to speak to someone, it was then that I noticed that the rear part of the thong was so thin, that it disappeared entirely between her buttocks.  As she continued toward me I also noticed that neither had she been a stranger to depilatory creams. Such skimpy swimwear I had never before noticed at Sandbanks, but then, I was never inclined to seek approval from my supervisor either to do a detailed beach census and analysis. In a soft, sultry voice, she purred, “Excuse me, would you have a light?” I smoked cigarettes back then when I could slip one in without the public seeing me. I fumbled around in my pocket anxiously for the book of matches as she leaned forward in my direction. My first match spluttered and went out when my nervous fingers smothered it like a candle snuffer. She moved in even closer, her long, flowing hair, now directly in front of my face. As the next match flared to life, I just about set her hair on fire! Graciously though, she thanked me for the light and returned to the set. Taking a long deep sigh, I tried to regain my composure. I decided it was time to call it a day. 

Prince Edward Region Conservation Authority: Wanting to throw some humour into the evening one year, we offered a Sleeping Around the County package. The generous package included overnight accommodations at several well know B & B’s. There was also a gift basket of local food products. Draped seductively over the entire package was a silk negligee, and not to be outdone, was a smaller item standing proudly near the base of the items on display – a box of condoms! One lady during the auction pulled me aside and wanted to know who was responsible for the package. Sensing disapproval, I replied that it had been a cooperative effort by the Dinner Committee, based on a few items that had been donated that we felt would make an attractive package. “Well, I think it’s offensive!” she hollered above the noise of the evening. “We’re not a bunch of teenagers here tonight, you know!”  Some of us must have had vestiges of libido left in us though as the package ended up being a hot item and enjoyed enthusiastic bidding from several who really wanted it.

Quinte Conservation: Rounding the corner, I could see a couple people on the dock and one person was lying prone on the deck. As our party of kayakers got closer to the dock, we realized that it was a young lady on the dock and she appeared to be as naked as the day she was born, soaking up what little sun had managed to make its way on this side of the landing. …..her pale buttocks reflected conspicuously in the binoculars.  When she saw that we were pointed in her direction, intent on landing at the dock and beach, her partner quickly covered her up with a large bath towel. When we got close enough to be heard, I hollered, “SORRY, BUT WE’RE COMIN’ IN! I AM IN AGONY WITH MY BACK AND NEED TO REACH SHORE QUICKLY!” I somehow winched myself out of the kayak and recovered within five minutes. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice the remaining half dozen kayakers in our party, bobbing up and down like corks in the waves on all sides of the dock. The unfortunate sunbather, who earlier had been in a very tranquil world with no one around, was now surrounded on all sides by ogling kayakers! The focus of their attention seemed to be on the leading edge of the towel that separated her from total nudity, as it began to flap more aggressively in the increasing wind! 

NatureStuff Tours: I was never that comfortable on the water, or even in it, for that matter. I was not a good swimmer despite having grown up on the shore of the Bay of Quinte, but I could stay afloat, barely, and thrash about enough to cover perhaps a short distance. For sure, the world would never see me at the Summer Olympics, doing a 400-metre freestyle.  On all of my trips, I simply ignored my aversion to water and forged bravely ahead as I had a job to do. So, why did the year 2000 see me on a 48-foot diving boat, leading weekly tours across 12 miles of turbulent Lake Ontario to Main Duck Island over what was fondly known as the Graveyard of Lake Ontario where so many early mariners had perished? Did I not learn my lesson some 20 years earlier when Glenora Fisheries took me out on their research vessel in what was nothing short of a hurricane?

Headlines and Deadlines:  One morning when David came in to the Quinte Scanner office to begin his day, I told him that, upon arriving early, I had decided to use the facilities while the building was still empty and quiet. I related that as I sat there, contemplating upcoming stories I wanted to pursue, I was aware of someone in the apartment above me flushing the toilet. The water below me produced a couple audible gurgles, and then everything went quiet. Suddenly, a geyser of water about a foot in height shot up between my legs like a miniature Old Faithful, only a great deal cooler and without the steam. Scared me half to death! That was the first time I had seen David bend over almost double from laughing so hard that his face turned red and his laughs slowly faded into barely audible wheezes. I enjoyed my time there, but my situation which involved moving to full time employment dictated that I must leave. I always wondered about the portly lady in the red top who always sat by the window in an upstairs apartment across from the Quinte Scanner office. With monotonous regularity, she monitored the street below every morning when I arrived to work shortly after daybreak, and watched me as I unlocked the door.  I hope someone thought to move her out before the building was demolished a few years later.

Upon Reflection: Have I really retired, many have asked? What is retirement anyway? It is a chance to pursue our dreams beyond the workplace. However, my workplace has always been my dream, and while I have slowed down considerably, I will never retire completely. I will still be at my keyboard daily, furiously writing something, and accepting requests now and then for private hikes and tours, and continuing to offer my services as a guest speaker. Why? It is because my work has always been my life. And what better way to enjoy retirement than continuing to do the things I love? But, part of those retirement plans will include spending more time privately enjoying the very things I interpreted at our events – hiking, kayaking, and even forest bathing! Someone once said that Nature begins as an interest, becomes a hobby, continues as an avocation, takes over as an obsession, and in its last stages is an incurable disease. I am happy to say, that I am at the disease part. – a disease in which I seek no cure. Part of my retirement plans will include doing exactly what I am doing right now – sitting under our maple tree and basking in the wildlife haven that we have created.