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I haven’t been to the Queen Mary since I was a child, so this summer I decided to go. But before I even got onto the big boat, I saw a large sign saying Russian Scorpion, referring to a Soviet submarine where I could actually go aboard. I was so excited I didn’t care much about the details, like how the sub got to the U.S. or when.
Sometimes you just have to immerse (or in this case submerse) yourself in history, without intellectualism or analysis. I’ve had that feeling of being where the history was before. The first time was probably when I went to the Yorktown battle field.
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| Flickr photo: Ken Lund |
I could just sense what had happened, especially after reading the signs and walking around. When you walk on worn stones at an ancient site, or climb the stairs at an old castle, you feel the history and don’t need to be told about it, though that’s fun also.
The Scorpion was much bigger than I’d imagined a Soviet sub to be, although it apparently could host a crew of 78. It seemed to have countless rooms and stations. Whoever got it ready for the public had helpfully (not) made all the dials and handles unworkable. But they had realistic lighting and some audio of the kind of sounds you’d hear, and it was easy to realize in every room that there was just a metal hull between you and the water. 
Everything was larger than I thought it would be, especially the officer’s mess. It looked like something out of The Hunt for Red October. Everyone there was convinced it had been used in the movie (and there was even a photo of Sean Connery in the gift shop), but I can’t find any evidence that it was used for the film. At one point walking (well, walking isn’t the right word for maneuvering my person through those round hatch things every 20 feet) through, I turned to the guy behind me (who was about my age) and said, “Would you have thought 25 years ago that we’d be in Long Beach touring a Russian attack sub?” It seemed incredible.
Oh yeah, the other scorpion. This one, like the sub, was officially dead, but nevertheless surprising. The San Elijo campus of MiraCosta is situated between a bluff and a wildlife lagoon that links to the sea. I have been working there since 1989. We have lots of wildlife, of course: 
I’ve seen snakes and rabbits and lizards and hawks and sandpipers. There are egrets and herons down at the bottom of the parking lot, standing on one leg in the water-filled ditch next to the road. But until last week I’d never seen a scorpion. Evidence for global warming as far as I’m concerned.
But don’t tell anyone! Almost a decade ago, I watched as official personnel chased a raccoon with intent to kill. And now, we have this rodent trap near my building. The rabbits have mostly disappeared (there used to be lots of them coming out late in the afternoon to nibble the grass — now you only occasionally see a few pellets). I never saw any rodents there at all, but since the traps came, there are fewer snakes (I assume they have nothing to eat), and so fewer hawks (I once saw one carry a snake off). The lizards are still there, two types of them now, but a lot of wildlife are gone. So don’t tell about the scorpion — just avoid the little field in open-toed shoes.]]>
