Author: Gregory C. Y. Piatkowski

To my old friend CORNER BAR FRANK alias Francis Threw, who left for another galaxy on the 8th of September 2024.

October 8, 2024 · 2 min read

I don’t know how to reach you, Frank. I’ve been looking around, but it seems you’ve gone interstellar. I took that late flight from Barcelona, hoping to see you on Sunday. But we obviously missed each other at the airport—your last flight took off just as I landed at Son Sant Juan.

You’re probably sitting in some interstellar corner bar, listening to klingons at the next table while a giant squidfish of a bartender tries to catch your eye. I wonder what the house drink is—Moloko Plus with knives, I guess. But I’m sure you ordered that bucket of beer you always kicked back. I’ll raise a bucket of beer and think of you now and then. I miss you, man. I know it’s selfish, but it’s better than squidfish.

Old bastard!

When I visited on tuesday, you still tried to make me laugh, telling me that story about the catheter and how four nurses had to hold you down. You’ve got balls, man. By the way, greetings from Julia and the kids. She misses you too. Anyway, you two always got along better. Ha!

You’re the kind of mild person who can get hard on someone when needed. I picture you interstellar, sitting by your motorbike, calmly fixing it with a bottle of whiskey at your side, like something out of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. You give that steady look of yours, the one that says you know exactly what you’re doing.

I still have that workshop lamp of yours. You lent it to me two years ago, and I know it’s yours because when I plug it in, it shines.

So, I’ll let you to it. Write me if you can. I’ll be waiting. Same old address.

Give Alan a hug. Does he still wear that menjou beard? He got there earlier than you, so I’m sure he’ll show you around.

In Like Flynn. The Legend of Errol Flynn. An Article by Gregory C. Y. Piatkowski. #24/0143.

October 4, 2024 · 3 min read

69 years ago: Errol Flynn returned to his “ZACA” in September 1955. The 118-foot schooner had been moored at the Real Club Náutico de Palma since 1952. Once a celebrated screen pirate and Robin Hood, Flynn was now a fading star in Hollywood. However, despite his decline, his charisma remained intact. Wherever Flynn went, attention followed. His reputation as a wild rogue, paired with an undeniable elegance, continued to draw people in. Even as his finances crumbled, he maintained the air of a free spirit who roamed the seas like an old buccaneer in his own realm.

Between film productions, Flynn sought refuge on his yacht in Palma’s bay. The “ZACA” wasn’t just a vessel for Flynn – it was his sanctuary, a symbol of freedom and independence. The towering sails that caught the wind reflected the adventurer’s spirit that never truly left him. On board, away from the turmoil of Hollywood, Flynn could still be the hero he once portrayed on screen.

He avoided the United States, partly due to outstanding tax debts. His fortune was embezzled by accountants, and his marriage to Patricia Wymore was in ruins. Meanwhile, his box office hits from the 1930s and 1940s were now reaching Spanish cinemas, bringing Flynn a delayed wave of fame on the Iberian Peninsula. In Spain, Flynn wasn’t just seen as an actor – he was viewed as a symbol of a bygone Hollywood era, one of romance, adventure, and heroism. In Palma, for some, he was a hero, while for others, he was a tragic figure.

Flynn was a regular at “Joe’s” on Plaza Gomila and Rudi’s “Tirol” on Calle de Apuntadores – legendary hangouts known for their raucous gatherings. His image as a playboy and womanizer overshadowed other aspects of his life, including his political convictions: Flynn had visited Spain in 1937 during the Civil War, where he commented on the conflict from the Republican side. His passion for freedom fighters resurfaced in 1958, much to Hollywood’s dismay, when he produced The Cuban Story: The Truth about Fidel Castro’s Revolution – a unique documentary of Cuba’s transformation. For Flynn, the fight for freedom wasn’t just a role – it was a deeply held belief.

In his diary entry from October 8, 1955, in Palma de Mallorca, Flynn wrote:

“(…) Favourite occupation: A prolonged bout in the bedroom.

The greatest calamity: Castration.

What would I like to be at seventy? At seventy, I confidently hope I will have had at least eight more wives, have grown a stomach that I can regard with respect, and still be able to walk upstairs to the bedroom without aching or groaning.”

This mix of humor and melancholy reveals Flynn’s self-awareness about his fading youth and vitality. While he joked about future wives and a “respectable” belly, there’s an underlying fear of the physical decline of a man once known for his vitality and presence. The adventurer who had conquered Hollywood was now facing the inevitable signs of aging.

On October 14, 1959, while negotiating the sale of his beloved “ZACA” in Vancouver, Errol Flynn died of a heart attack at the age of 50. Even in his final years, he remained a figure of fascination, with his life oscillating between legendary escapades and quiet, personal struggles.

Monk Seals: A Lost Mediterranean Legacy. An Article by Gregory C. Y. Piatkowski. #24/0139.

October 2, 2024 · 2 min read

66 years ago in April: In Cala Tuent, the Guardia Civil killed what was likely the last Mediterranean monk seal (Monachus monachus) on Mallorca. These marine mammals once populated the entire coasts and islands of the Mediterranean as part of a balanced ecosystem. This balance shifted with the territorial expansion of another predator: humans. As early as Homer, Plutarch, and Aristotle, the seal was mentioned in ancient writings. Its fur, fat, and meat were highly prized, and due to its trusting nature, the animal was easy to hunt. The fall of the Roman Empire in the 5th century initially halted its early extinction in the western Mediterranean. Along Mallorca’s coasts, pirate raids discouraged human settlement for centuries, while the seals used these areas undisturbed as natural breeding grounds, and their colonies flourished. The end of piracy in the 19th century also marked the end of the monk seal colonies on Mallorca. Fishermen increasingly settled the coasts, and fishing became a thriving industry. The monk seal, which feeds exclusively on fish and mollusks, became a bitter enemy of the fishermen: it stole their easy catch and tore apart their fishing nets. The people of that time saw the seal as a pest that needed to be exterminated. Archduke Ludwig Salvator described their hunting by the islanders in 1870: “Let us consider seal hunting. Normally, you would encounter two, four, or five monk seals, swimming and playing in the water for a while, until one of them crawls onto the shore. At that moment, the hunter fires. Sometimes the animal dies instantly, but at other times it can escape into the sea; the hunter must be prepared for this and close the entrance to the cave with a strong net… the seal lifts its body out of the water, and at that moment the hunter shoots it again… They also catch the monk seal with a strong hook tied to a durable rope.”

On the North African coast and in the Greek Aegean, some colonies have survived to this day. On the Balearic Islands, however, the “Vellmarí” is considered extinct. All monk seals…? In 2008, a diver spotted one near El Toro in the southwest of Mallorca. However, marine biologists believe it was an African individual that had migrated.