In writing the book Ghost Wave, the most difficult story to thread into a chapter was the remarkable tale of the attempt to colonize the Cortes Bank and create the great nautical nation of Abalonia. Here’s what I wrote in the Endnotes to the book:
When I dove into the tales of plans to colonize the Cortes Bank, dates, locations, and facts varied wildly and details of the people who planned to erect this nation on the half shell were maddeningly scant. The true nature of this epic was first revealed through articles stored on genuine microfilm, far from the all-seeing eyes of Google. The first mention appeared on page 11 of the Pasadena Independent on Halloween of 1966 (Hal D. Stewart, “Pair Planning Island Nation off San Diego”). I then located a number of other stories in the Web archives of the San Diego Union Tribune and the Los Angeles Times that gave names. Yet, for some time, I was unable to locate anyone.
And believe me, I tried. For a long time, it seemed that no matter who I contacted, or what favors I called in to reporters with access to non-public databases, I just couldn’t find a person associated with this nation on the half shell. This changed when one day, out of the clear blue sky, an anonymously sent package arrived at my door. I was fairly shocked to find that it contained the sixty-page manuscript of a man named Joe Kirkwood Jr. Through the 1950’s and early ’60’s, Kirkwood was a well-known pro golfer also known for playing the film rendition of a comic strip boxer named “Joe Palooka.” It seems Kirkwood penned the manuscript around 1967, and then sent it to Sports Illustrated. But S.I. never published the story and perhaps Kirkwood never farmed it to anyone else. Also in the package were a series of incredible photos and a short, grainy film clip of a huge, spooky old ship, the SS Jalisco, being towed beneath San Francisco’s Bay Bridge. The ship was being towed out to the Cortes Bank.
Then, finally, another break. Interestingly enough, from Billabong XXL director and one-time Cortes Bank surfer Bill Sharp. “It appears possible,” wrote Sharp, “that the James Houtz of Costa Mesa who was injured in the Jalisco stunt may be now living in Laguna Beach…”
After few calls and emails came a voicemail. “Umm Mr. Dixon, this is Jim Houtz. I’m one of the guys who was aboard the Jalisco. Give me a call.”
I would spend many hours over the following couple of weeks at Jim Houtz’s ranch house in Laguna Beach. Despite being in his mid-70’s, a compact, weathered Houtz remains fit, robust, lucid and hilarious. The conversations revealed not only how a plan to colonize the Cortes Bank with a giant old ship had nearly killed Houtz, cost him his marriage and led him into financial ruin, but what a complete (yet remarkably modest) hellman he remains to this day. I figured some of you might be interested in hearing a bit more of my conversation with a man who lived more by his late-twenties than many of us will in a lifetime. What follows are excerpts from conversations with the King of Abalonia…
-Chris Dixon
Jim Houtz: I was born in the Colorado High Country – a very small town, the population was 29 – in the middle of a snowstorm. In those days it was nothing more than a pack station for an outfitters outpost for people going into what they called Colorado’s Wild Bain. My mom couldn’t even get to the hospital to give birth.
We came to California when I was four years old with my mom and a sister who’s older than I am. My mom ran the Girl Scout Camp out on Catalina Island during the summers and then she had a lodge in the San Bernardino Mountains – near Crestline in the Valley of Enchantment – the San Souci Lodge. We had scout stuff up there all the time, and so I was raised very much there and on the water. When you’re five, six, seven, eight years old, and have to choose between hanging in the water or around a bunch of Girl Scouts, it wasn’t a big decision.
Diving, being on the water – I further pursued when I went into the Navy. I volunteered for the submarine forces. You’re never supposed to volunteer for anything. I kept telling my buddy, they have the best chow in the Navy, we’d be crazy not to do this.
The SEALS didn’t exist at this time, but we were and Underwater Demolitions Team – a UDT – and became a force to be reckoned with. We were working with the recovery for test launches of the very first nuclear missile submarines and the very first nuclear sub missiles – the Regulus II. Then we started doing sound issue research on torpedoes and subs and prop washes – how to make ’em quieter.
When I was discharged in 1960, I remained just very involved in underwater issues – rescues, diving techniques. I was right there at the start of developing heli-oxygen, which we was going to be used by deep divers working off Santa Barbara on the offshore oil platforms.
With Heliox, we were operating deep – from 225 feet down to 400. I was down at those depths on a regular basis. I was also teaching diving all over the coast for NAUI – the National Association of Scuba Instructors – private classes for specialized people who wanted to get into commercial diving. But at the same time, I was doing a lot of experimenting on deep diving with just compressed air. What the issues were – nitrogen poisoning, oxygen poisoning, trimixes — helium and other inert gasses. They make you talk like Mickey Mouse and there’s no insulation (on your tank), so that gas comes out so cold. You freeze your ass off breathing it.
CD: This was all stuff that could’ve gotten you killed.
