The Wisdom of a Snickers Candy Bar

Okay this past week has been very depressing for me. My work hours were cut back to the point where I almost don't have a job. The economy sucks right now, everybody is hurting. My husband works every waking hour, and we worry about paying all of our bills . . . just like everyone else. So yes, I believe I deserved the Snickers candy bar I ate today. Each bite tasted better than the last.
As I peeled away the brown wrapper taking the last gratifying bite of the self-prescribed antidepressant, I noticed writing on the inside of the wrapper. Hey, maybe this is my lucky day and I have won something! I could stand to win something – even if it was a free Snickers bar! But upon looking closer the letters seemed to form a foreign word followed by a definition, similar to a dictionary entry. I love words – even though when I try and write they scatter like naughty children while I play hide-and-go-seek trying to find the right ones to express my feelings on paper. So, I liked the idea of adding a new word to my vocabulary.


After swallowing the last bite of candy bar along with the self depreciating thought, “I never win anything,” I began to decipher the entry on the wrapper: “Nougatocity”. I had never heard that word before, have you? Maybe it was some cleaver made-up word trying to fit the taste of the Snickers bar, like “nougat city”? Hahaha. As I read on, I thought the universe was trying to tell me something – and laughing at me while it was doing it. Here is what I read:

Nougatocity (noun): A heightened yet fleeting state of accomplishment that makes you realize how unbelievably unmotivated you normally are.

What? Yes, you have to read it at least twice before the meaning sinks in! LOL! I have been described a lot of ways in my life, but "nougatocity" has never been part of description before! Okay, a wakeup call. I better shake off that pity party I have been feeling, and get going in life. And while I’m on my way, could you please hand me another Snickers bar? Thanks :-)!

The Story of the Cement Ship

Every beach seems to have its own calling card. For this beach it is a cement boat at the end of the local fishing pier. Is the beach called Rio Del Mar State Beach, or Seacliff State Beach? I don't know, but it is the only beach around here with a partially sunken cement ship. This stretch of beach is tucked away in Aptos, California, just off Highway 1, five miles south of Santa Cruz. We have always called it Rio Del Mar Beach, and there is a sign on the beach stating so. But, when I was looking on the Internet for info about “the beach with the cement boat”, I kept seeing that the beach was called “Seacliff State Beach”. I’m sure if I asked a local resident, I could get the name straight, but, until then, here are photos of the fun beach I am talking about!

Above: This photo shows the outline of the cement boat tethered to the end of the pier.

Below: Photos of the beach.

Above a squadron of pelicans crossing the sky.

Back to the beach's calling card. The most famous resident of this beach is the decaying ghostlike concrete ship sitting on the ocean floor at the end of the pier. This ship is what most tourist come for, even though there is not much left to see. The SS Palo Alto, as the boat is named, is one of only three cement ships that were constructed during World War I. As the story goes, the ship was built at the Oakland shipyard in 1918 as a World War I tanker. Apparently a Norwegian civil engineer named Fougner thought of using concrete to construct ships since the wartime had created steel shortages. The war ended before the ship ever saw service . At that point she was sold to the Cal-Nevada Company, and towed in 1929 to Seacliff State Beach. Once in place at the beach, her sea cocks were opened, and the Palo Alto sat down permanently on the ocean floor. The plans were to make her an amusement and fishing ship. A pier was constructed to connect the beach to the concrete boat. A casino, dance hall, café, heated swimming pool, and arcades were constructed inside this one time military boat. Unfortunately after operating only two seasons in the early 1930’s, the Great Depression hit and the owners went bankrupt. The Palo Alto was then stripped and left abandoned – now only birds, beach goers, and photogs enjoy this eternally docked grey glimpse of history. The pier is now used for fishing, but the ship is permanently closed to the public.

Above: Looking onto the deck of the concrete ship.

All of the remaining photos below: Residents of the concrete ship.

Above: I could imagine the concrete being toasty warm on a day like today.

For more information about this state beach, go to:
http://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=543