Word: oceanic
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...bags of cement to a remote Eskimo village? Answer: mail them. Sam Krogstad, a construction supplier in Anchorage, is sending the individually addressed blocks (postage: $4.33 each) and bags ($4.27) about 700 miles north to Wainwright, where they will be used to build a small harbor on the Arctic Ocean. Krogstad's bill for stamps will be about $45,000, less than what other shippers would charge...
...Great Plains has become a dust bowl, and people are moving north into Canada's uplands to seek work. Even in Alaska, changing ocean currents are boosting the fish catch. New York is sweltering in 95 degrees weather that began in June and will continue through Labor Day. In the Southeast the hot spell started six weeks earlier...
...over Tyson's walls at the Ocean Club hotel are the old sepia photographs out of which he has stepped, going back to Mike Donovan, Jack Blackburn and Joe Jeannette, who in 1909 fought a 49-rounder that featured 38 knockdowns. Louis, Rocky Marciano and Ali are there, but Jack Johnson, Jim Jeffries and Stanley Ketchel are more prominent. (John Lardner told Ketchel's 1910 fate in a pretty good sentence: "Stanley Ketchel was 24 years old when he was fatally shot in the back by the common-law husband of the lady who was cooking his breakfast.") The repeaters...
...first chill of winter swept across South Africa last week, a few white families braved the weather to relax on King's Beach, a strip along the Indian Ocean in the eastern Cape city of Port Elizabeth. Parents reclined under striped umbrellas as black maids took the children to play in the waves. Not far away, a colored (mixed race) man, his wife and two small children enjoyed a picnic on the sand. For a brief time last month, such racially mixed scenes were countenanced by law at Port Elizabeth, after the state Supreme Court struck down local city ordinances...
...meeting of these strong-willed, lethal innocents is at first a comedy of errors. She, seeing his clerical garb, feels obliged to ask Oscar to hear her confession, even though that is the last thing she wants. He, shy, seasick, and terrified of the ocean view he knows he must face through her first-class porthole, reluctantly drags himself to his duty. He listens: "She confessed that she had attended rooms in Drury Lane for the purposes of playing fan- tan." He leaps to her, and his, defense: "Our whole faith is a wager, Miss Leplastrier . . . we bet that there...