*UPDATED* The Sultan of Salton

The Sultan of Salton

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The small beach side town of Bombay Beach is anything but picturesque, located on the Northeast shore of ‘The Salton Sea’. The average temperature is ninety-six degrees. The landscape, as it appears, has a post-apocalyptic feel about it, stark white sand, abandoned homes in every state of dilapidation covered with salt. Vehicles and motor boats left behind and scattered about, covered in salt and rust stripped of anything that may have held value.

The small town is one of several that popped up around The Salton Sea in the 1950’s into the 1960’s. Resembling a gorgeous glittering sapphire on a bed of white satin, The Salton Sea was dedicated as “The West’s Greatest Playground” and developers planned to have it rival nearby Palm Springs. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. performed at the North Shore Yacht Club. Boat races were held in the summer months and developers invested money into The Salton Sea and the towns and cities that popped up on its shores. The town of Bombay Beach, Salton City and North Shore were designed, and big plans were laid out for their prosperous futures on the ‘Sea Surrounded by Desert’. 

However, unlike most fairy tales an unfortunate circumstance happened in the sea by the late 1960’s. The salinity in The Salton Sea began to increase; so much so it out number the Pacific Ocean salinity by 25% by the 1990’s. The increase in salinity caused the sea to turn from a gorgeous clear sapphire blue into a murky, cloudy alga blooms all throughout the sea. Along with the algae came a stench that when mixed with the desert heat became unbearable to stand next to. Development stopped. People moved away.

Contrary to the written accounts of The Salton Sea and its bleak history, vibrant communities have developed and flourished. Bombay Beach became one of the most developed around The Salton Sea. Laid out in the traditional grid, Bombay Beach had nine avenues which ran north to south and named “Avenue A”- “Aisle of Palms” (Avenue I). The avenues were intersected by five streets which ran east to west and named 1^st Street- 5^th  Street.

Salma arrived at ‘The Salty Shack’, the corner of Avenue C and 5^th Street, a little after eleven in the morning on a Thursday in July. A thermostat that hung on the front porch of the shack read 107. She didn’t need a thermostat to tell her the temperature; from the smell of the sea Salma easily declared the temperature closer to 115. Unlocking the door to The Salty Shack, Salma had to give a nudge with her shoulder twice as the door would stick. Salt build up overnight was common with the building being so close to The Salton Sea. The door popped open with a haunted house style creak. Salma started to walk inside when she heard a shuffle and an incoherent muttering in the distance. Turning she saw Crazy Carl walking toward The Salty Shack along 5^th Street.

“Morning Carl!” Salma said waving.

Carl didn’t acknowledge Salma and chatted to himself walking toward Avenue A. Salma picked up on the usual words Carl muttered “silver” “crash” “splash” “wet” “eat” and always “absorption” ending his chant before starting over. Salma forced a smile and felt the usual pity/helplessness for Crazy Carl who seemed lost and in search of something as usual.

In The Salty Shack Salma’s eyes looked at the index cards thumbtacked to the wall behind the register. “silver”, “crash”, “splash”, “wet”, “eat” and “absorption’ were written in her hand writing. She had written down the words Carl said since she moved to Bombay Beach and there was never an unfamiliar word or different order to the words Crazy Carl spoke.

Salma looked out The Salty Shacks front door as Crazy Carl passed on the same walking/shuffle loop; walking down Avenue E turning right on 5^th Street walking to Avenue A turning right to 1^st Street and ending back at his home on the corner of 1^st Street and Avenue G. A big square that started and finished at the house Carl lived with his aging mother since the early 1960’s.

Salma turned on the lights and got the day underway. On an average day at The Salty Shack only the locals would come in. Come in for a soda, a six pack or an ice cream. The air conditioning in the shack also provided the locals with an oasis away from their homes. Salma loved this part of the job, talking and catching up with everyone who lived in town. Getting the gossip, seeing if any tourists attempted to swim in the sea or the worst, if any tourists decorated the many ruins of Bombay Beach with spray painted graffiti. The spray painting and people further destroying Bombay got under Salma’s skin. When she moved to Bombay Beach she enjoyed the fact that the town looked apocalyptic and decayed. When out of towners came and desecrated ruins, she became vigilant.

Once, after first moving to Bombay, Salma was walking home down 5^th Street toward Aisle of Palms and saw a tan Dodge Shadow parked precarious on the side of street. Walking toward the Shadow, Salma saw two young men in what was left of a streamline style trailer spray painting their names with what looked like a cat. It was dusk, the sky burnt orange, the Salton Sea a gorgeous blue and that same familiar fish stench permeated the air.

Salma yelled, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?” before sprinting towards the streamline.

The boys looked at each other, dropped their spray paint cans and ran further into the trailer looking for escape. Salma ran into the open section of the trailer screaming like a banshee about disrespecting property, calling the police and calling their parents. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and heard giggles from a closed door in the front most portion of the streamline. Walking quietly toward the giggling, Salma opened the door in a dramatic display and began reciting Shania Twain’s “Man, I Feel Like A Woman” in her native Turkish tongue while waving her arms in the air above her head. The situation played out with Salma looking and acting like a crazed person reciting a curse. The young men had no idea what to think, panicked and ran past Salma out of the trailer, to the Dodge Shadow and sped out of Bombay Beach. Salma continued her walk home laughing to herself of her heroics of the evening. “This is my town. Ain’t no one going to mess with it. Wanna make some noise, really raise my voice. Yeah, I wanna scream and shout. Man I Feel Like A Woman!” she sang to herself.

It was just after 1 when the first customer of the day came into the shack. The tiny bell nailed at the top of the door jingled. Salma was sitting behind the register and looked up from her sketchbook. A man in his late thirties, balding, wearing black slacks, a black button-down shirt with exotic flowers and shiny dress shoes with tassels stood in the doorway looking up, down and around The Salty Shack.

Salma cleared her throat and forced a smile and asked, “May I help you?”

The man turned and stared at Salma and asked “an ice cream sandwich. It’s quite hot out there.”

“Yes, a normal July day in Bombay Beach. Not a cloud in the sky and so hot the smell of the sea makes your stomach turn! Ice cream sandwiches are the third freezer down.”

The balding man looked at Salma over the rim of his glasses puzzled by her comment and said “Th-Thank you” and walked toward the third freezer.

Salma faked smiled again and turned back to her sketchbook. She was shading a sketch of a fairy tale tower surrounded by a lake when the balding customer reappeared at the counter with 6 ice cream sandwiches in his hands. He dropped the sandwiches on the counter in front of the sketchbook.

My name is Bob. I just moved here from Schenectady.” The balding man introduced himself.

Salma picked up and closed her sketchbook with an annoyance. “Welcome to Bombay Beach. You’re a long way from Schenectady. Where abouts’ are you putting down roots?”

“Avenue H in between 3^rd Street and 4th. Same block as The Sea of Life Church” said Bob.

“So what brings a man in all black twenty seven hundred miles from New York?” asked Salma

“I’m seeing Dean Martin at the North Shore Yacht Club Saturday night”.

Taking aback by the comment, Salma asked “Dean Martin? At the North Shore Yacht Club?”

Bob stared at Salma, tilted his head to the right, neck bones cracking his face displayed a manually processing question look. His head popped upright and commented “apologies, I’m going to listen to Dean Martin while I unpack; now through Saturday night”.

Salma stared at Bob and shifted her eyes left to right trying to understand what was going on in The Salty Shack at 1pm in the afternoon.

“$4.25 for the uh, um…”

“Ice cream sandwiches. They are so delectable I can eat two at a time.” Bob responded

He handed Salma a five-dollar bill and she gave seventy-five cents change. She asked if he needed a bag, forgetting the ten-cent state fee.

“No need! Ill finish these before I get home!” Bob responded and walked out of The Salty Shack.

Salma took a minute to replay everything that happened over the last 10 minutes to reassure herself she was not crazy. A balding man in all black came into the store and bought six ice cream sandwiches, said he was seeing Dean Martin Saturday night and he would finish all ice cream sandwiches before he got home.

“Another day in Bombay Beach! Another day in this oddity paradise” she said to herself.

The Sultan of Salton

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Refocusing, Salma went back to her sketchbook and opened to the sketch of the tower surrounded by a lake. Her focus was the shadowing around the base of the tower where it met the water. Her mind drifted; who is in this tower? Why would someone lock a person away from any human contact? Why make them a prisoner or why are they being protected?

 Thoughts drifted through her mind as she shaded up the tower. Salma was so focused in the tower surrounded by water she didn’t hear the little bell nailed to the door jingle. It wasn’t until a high-pitched giggle brought her back to reality with a snap as her pencil broke against the sketchbook paper. Shaking her head, Salma reacquainted herself with her surroundings. A young couple had entered The Salty Shack, tourists EOTWS by the looks of them, looking at the dried petrified tilapia bodies mounted to wooden plaques. The wooden plaques had brass placards that read: Best Catch At The Salton Sea, Fishing Is Cheaper Than Therapy, Fishing: It’s All About How You Wiggle Your Worm and Fish Come In Three Sizes Small, Medium And The One That Got Away. The man of the duo just chuckled away at the witty sayings under the mounted fish. His girlfriend looked on at the coolers of drinks and freezer of different ice cream selections.

“Can I..” clearing her throat “Can I help you folks? Questions about the tilapia? Friends will be jealous if you take one back to where you’re visiting from!” Salma said trying to sound like P.T. Barnum with a sale pitch.

The boyfriend responded “nah we’re here to see the sad dilapidation and the former glory that

Salma, without missing a beat, slid a quick grim grin across her face and began a history of Bombay Beach and The Salton Sea. The communities that had developed and flourished in the sea’s aftermath. How The Salton Sea is a prime example of global, ecological impact and the effects of human interference and how the younger generation such as the young couple in The Salty Shack have no respect for Mother Earth, the environment around them, the community in voice this community needs to yell we are living and we will thrive, and you know what you both need to leave. Now.

Salma stared at the young couple her left eyebrow raised to the ceiling and fire in her eyes. Her heart raced, and adrenaline pumped as the young couple exited. The door to The Salty Shack closed silently and her heart began to slow to a normal pace. “Morons!” she said aloud.    

Salma closed The Salty Shack at seven in the evening. Pulling the door closed with a thud and locking the dead bolt. Salma inhaled a deep breath, mentally blocking out the dead fish smell, and crossed 5^th Street walking up and over the sand barrier to the stark white sandy shore of The Salton Sea. Salted petrified bones and bodies of tilapia crunched under her Doc Martens as she approached the water. Salma stopped at a rusted-out oil drum. The drum had been cut open and fashioned into a make shift chair. Complete with outdoor cusion.

Salma sat in her make shift chair and stared out across the sea. The sea was calm and resembled a mirror reflecting the evening clouds, sky and Mount Lagoon on the opposite side of The Salton Sea. Oranges, reds, pinks and purples were painted overhead, and Salma enjoyed that it was all for her. There appeared to be no soul around for the entire stretch of the beach.

As Salma stared across the sea admiring Mount Laguna, the first star appeared to the right of its peak. Faint but there. Maybe it was Venus she thought to herself as she became more relaxed in her make shift beach chair. In a state of Zen, Salma closed her eyes.

Salma dreamed she was young about seven sitting on a sofa watching television. The living room was dark except for the television light. Another faint light came from the right toward the kitchen and a smell of hot chocolate. Salma looked left out the living room window and saw darkness then snow falling around a street light. She focused back on the television and noticed The Snowman playing on the screen. Her mother now joined her on the sofa, both sharing a patchwork quilt. Hot chocolate now in her hands as well as her mothers. “It’s going to be a snow day for you Sally Doll. No school!” Her mother said with excitement. Salma smiled and watched the television screen smiling. The happy dream turned into a nightmare quickly when a hot breath crept across young Salma’s face. Turning her head right her mother’s face had turned demonic. Round ping pong ball size eyes protruded from their sockets locking sight with Salma’s eyes. An extra wide grin of serrated teeth that dripped saliva stretched across her mother’s former face. She felt a scream building from deep within and Salma closed her eyes.

Shaken…

Salma opened her eyes slowly. In a blurred vision a wide, thin mouth with serrated teeth appeared inches from the right side of her face. The mouth opened, as if inhaling, and leaned closer to her cheek. Salma awoke in a spasm of fear, lurched out of her chair flailing both arms at nothing. Settling back into her beach chair, Salma rubbed her eyes now fully awake.

“That was odd. Normally Mom dreams leave me feeling at peace” whispering to herself.

Salma had napped for about an hour she gathered. The sun had set and left the sky deep purple with a few scattered clouds. More stars had joined Venus in the early night sky. Salma stood, stretched, raised her arms over her head and twisted her body to the right stretching. Next to her barrel chair a pile sticks she hadn’t noticed before. Lowering her arms, she looked at the pile quizzically. The image of that serrated tooth grin crept back into her mind. She shook her head and the thought of that heinous grin left her mind. At least for the moment. Salma gathered herself and began her walk home.    

                                                     The Sultan of Salton

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The Salton Sea 1966, a summer evening in July, a cool breeze came off the sea giving the party goers at the North Shore Yacht Club a cooling reprieve. After a very relaxing day on the Salton Sea’s shores, vacationers danced, drank, and danced some more. Dean Martin had been billed and the yacht club had sold out of tickets. Even the VIP tickets for the exclusive Compass Room had sold out. It seemed everyone around The Salton Sea was at the North Shore Yacht Club.

In Bombay Beach 10-year-old Carl Bond watched Flipper on a small thirteen inch black and white television. His mother, Elaine, won 2 VIP tickets to the North Shore Yacht Club to see Dean Martin that evening. It didn’t take much to persuade her girlfriend, Helen, to go. Helen had seen Dean Martin in concert 9 times, had all his records and even a lock of his hair she obtained from when she was in his “unauthorized” fan club. Asking Helen to go had the added advantage of Helen’s daughter Tabatha baby sit Carl.      

Elaine kissed Carl on the forehead and wished him good night then left with Helen for the North Shore Yacht Club. Tabatha was quick to rush Carl off to bed as soon as the ladies were out the door. “Not until Flipper is over” he demanded. Tabatha rolled her eyes and looked at the clock on the wall. 7:45, she can wait 15 minutes.

Flipper ended, and the credits began to roll. “Ok, bedtime!” said Tabatha. “You don’t have to fall asleep, but I want you in your room not making a sound”. Carl obliged and sulked off to his room. He changed into his Flipper pj’s and crawled into bed. Tossing and turning he couldn’t keep his mind from racing. Tonight’s episode was too exciting. Flipper’s adventure contained; sharks chasing the adventurous dolphin, swimmers in danger, and caused Carl’s adrenaline to flow! Laying in his bed he got an idea, ‘are there dolphins in the Salton Sea?’

Carl quietly stepped onto the floor. Tip toed to his bedroom door which was left slightly opened. He heard Tabatha chatting on the phone, giggling and talking about a boy she met on the beach. Carl put socks and his Converse on and lastly his LA Dodgers baseball cap. Sneaking out of his bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen Carl grabbed a flashlight from the pantry and quietly stepped out the backdoor into the backyard.

Elaine and Carl’s house was located on Avenue G and 1^st Street in Bombay Beach. Four blocks away from the beach and the gorgeous crystal-clear Salton Sea. Carl crept silently along the side of the house; hearing Tabatha’s voice through the open windows. Walking down Avenue G he began to sprint to the sea after crossing 2^nd Street. Carl reached the beach and collapsed to catch his breath. After a few minutes he was back on his feet and walking toward the waters edge. A full moon hung in the evening sky and gave the beach a faint ghostly glow.

Carl walked along the sand then stopped and looked out onto the sea for any slight movements that could be a dolphin. There was no movement and The Salton Sea was calm and still as if a piece of glass reflecting the moon and the stars overhead. Carl continued walking along the beach and came across a paddle boat vendor stand. Closed for the night, that paddle boats were lined up waiting for customers the following morning. Carl got an idea and looked for a small paddle boat in the lineup. He found a small paddle boat, white with a red stripe two-seats that gleamed in the moon light.

Dragging the paddle boat to the water’s edge, Carl hopped in and began paddling out onto the calm Salton Sea.

Paddling a paddle boat by oneself and looking out over the sea for dolphins, proved a little difficult for Carl. On the opposite shore, the lights of Salton City reflected on the sea’s surface. The silhouetted shape of Mount Laguna towered behind Salton City in a void of blackness. Carl turned his head back toward Bombay Beach and realized he had paddled farther than he had wanted. Using the rudder handle, he began paddling back toward the beach. Being only one paddler, it took careful maneuvering to steer and paddle the boat safely.

As Carl began to paddle closer to shore, a crack of thunder roared from the direction of Mount Laguna.  Turning to see what the noise was, Carl saw a fireball moving fast and aimed right for him. Panicked, he began to peddle faster almost at a running stance. The little paddle boat chugged toward the beach inch by inch. Tears began to run down Carl’s cheeks.

A second thunderous roar echoed over The Salton Sea followed by a shock wave that raced across the surface of the sea creating turbulent waves. The waves capsized the small paddle boat sending Carl head first into the sea. Surfacing, gasping for air and watched the fireball crash into the Salton Sea. The fireball quickly extinguished Carl gasped for air. Waves crashed and smacked against him, he screamed for help. During his screams, the fireball crashed into the sea with a massive splash! A deafening hiss came next and a silver craft was exposed through the steam cloud. Carl blinked twice then a blinding light exploded from the silver craft and grabbed at Carl like two hands. Carl’s vision went black and he passed out.