I am incredibly joyful and honored to be blessed with a friendship with Ramblin’ Jack Elliott for nearly 30 years now … He’s a storyteller incarnate, spinnin’ yarns at every corner, making people smile all over the planet. Here he is on the Johnny Cash show many moons ago. Love you, Jack!
And here’s an excerpt from my book, Deadheads: Stories with Fellow Artists, Friends and Followers of the Grateful Dead, where Jack shares stories of hanging with Bobby Weir and John Perry Barlow a bazillion years ago. GRATEFUL!
CHAPTER 10: GETTING SILLY
Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, Folk musician, friend of Woody Guthrie
“I don’t know which birthday it was, but John Barlow, Bobby Weir and I ended up going late into San Francisco in somebody’s car, probably John’s, for Bobby’s birthday. So we went to this nightclub, had a few drinks, then we left there and Bob lay down on the sidewalk, perhaps the better to view sighting up the hollow tall spire of the Transamerica building that was pointing up at the sky, for he needed guidance about which way was up. I don’t know! That reminded me of something, and I said, “Okay!” I suddenly had an inspiration. I knew where we had to go, so I became the tour guide at that point. I said, “Okay, everybody in the car!”
We all got in the car, I gave directions, and we ended up down at the Balclutha. I’m a permanent member of the crew, having worked on the rigging back when they first bought her. She was built in 1886. She’s one of the oldest steel ships ever built in the world. She’s one of the first ships ever made of steel. Up until that point, they’d been making sailing ships and steamers out of iron. Iron still is a very good material for ships, but they thought steel was better ‘cause it’s stronger, and you can use thinner steel than you could iron, and it’s lighter. This is, it’ll rust through quicker.
Anyway, we went down to the Balclutha, we arrived at the dock, and I said, “Aboard the Balclutha!” You don’t just walk on there. The night watchman came down and said, ‘Who goes there?” and I said, “It’s Ramblin’ Jack and some friends.” And he said, “Oh, Jack! Come on board! How are ya, man?” so we were welcomed on board, and this is about 2 o’clock in the morning. I wasn’t aware that they were getting ready to have an eclipse of the moon in a few minutes. He says, “Welcome aboard. Show your friends around,” and he just stood back and left us alone. I said, “Well, the first thing we should do is get a bird’s-eye view of the ship. So if you’ll just follow me, gentlemen . . . ”
I took them up aloft into the rigging, and we climbed up to the third yardarm up there, it’s called the “four upper topsail yard.” Drunk out of our minds, but still we could hang on. Nobody slipped. Nobody fell. We went to the yard there, and it had the sail, it was only half a sail really because full sail would be maybe too expensive, or maybe it might put too much pressure on the rigging in the event of a storm . . . I think It was probably due to expense. Because the sail was only like the starboard half of what would be the upper topsail, and it was printed with all this beautiful old-fashioned lettering, and it said, “Last, Cape Horner. Open to the public.”
So we climbed up there and we were standing on the foot ropes with our bellies lying over the yard and our elbows resting comfortably on the yard and it was there that we saw the eclipse of the moon. And I said, “Happy Birthday, Bob! Welcome, John. This is where I like to hang out when I come to San Francisco.” That was the first time I ever met Barlow. I’m sure everybody concerned enjoyed themselves to the utmost. It was like an acid trip. We were not on acid by the way. It’s always important to mention this in a Grateful Dead story—that were not high on acid on this particular day.
One time Barlow invited me to come up to his ranch in Wyoming. So I went up with him in the Cadillac. That was great. I’ve been there when Bobby’s been there. A couple or three time. And I’ve also been present when Barlow was having long phone calls with Weir at 2 o’clock in the morning, one of which was back when Barlow used to drink heavily. There was a skunk that had been hanging and living under the floor of the milk room, which was off the kitchen. It’s a beautiful, big, log ranch house with a nice dining room and a kitchen and a living room and an office room, kind of a parlor and some bedrooms upstairs, and there’s a piano.
This skunk . . . John was on the phone talkin’ to Bobby and he heard the skunk in the milk room and said, “Take the phone, Jack. Talk to Bob. I gotta go see about that skunk.” So I said, “Oh, okay. John just heard a skunk in the milk room, Bob, and he’s gonna go off and visit with the skunk for awhile, and so here I am. Well, how you been anyhow?” Then, all of a sudden, I heard a rifle go off. Barlow had taken a .22 rifle with him. So he comes back holding his head in grief. ‘Oh, I only winged him. He’s gonna die a horrible death. Not only that, not only is the poor skunk gonna die a horrible death, but it’s gonna stink under the kitchen milk room!'”
