Flying
Skwirl:
Crafty Urban Bedouins
Story
by Denice Breaux
Whether at home
in Inglenook surrounded by the tools and gems of her trade, or digging
into her portable work station when on the road or just visiting
with friends, Debbie Jones’s hands are rarely idle.
Her creative eye and nimble fingers rove through caches of garnets
and pearls, jasper and hematite, looking for just the right thing. “She’s
the creative one,” says her husband Bill. “I always tell
people that if you have no talent yourself, you can always marry it.” But
Bill’s gift of the gab and flair for storytelling are skills
indispensable to the Jones’s business, Flying Skwirl, and the
complement of their talents has kept the Skwirl flying for nearly fifteen
years.
In 1995 Bill Jones was living in Montana, about to retire from the
air force and looking for a business start-up idea. For a while he
dug fossils with his friend Joe, selling them under the name Flying
Skwirl. “I’ve always
been accused of being a little squirrelly, and I love Rocky and Bullwinkle,” recalls
Bill, a descendant of “fairly prosperous merchants in England who were
on the wrong side of the Revolution so had to cross the pond quickly.”
When Joe’s wife became seneschal [medieval term for a royal officer, typically
supervising feasts and domestic ceremonies, and sometimes in charge of justice]
of the local Society for Creative Anachronism, Bill began selling things like
polished rocks and wooden staffs at SCA events where merchants carry finished
products and whatever is needed to make them. Originating in Berkeley in 1966,
the SCA is now an international organization of over thirty thousand members
dedicated to researching and re-creating the arts and skills of pre-seventeenth
century Europe, or, as Bill puts it, “re-creating the Middle Ages as they
should have been—chivalry and honor without the black plague.”
Also in Montana but as yet unknown to Bill, Debbie was a member of the local
SCA shire (shires comprise principalities which in turn form kingdoms). She also
had been in a group in Germany where she was stationed in the U.S. Air Force
and had casually sold some of her jewelry at SCA events. Once meeting future
husband Bill Jones, her wares were added to the Flying Skwirl stock, and the
two sold at a few SCA events together before returning with their portable business
to Debbie’s hometown of Finley in Lake County. Their first booth in California
was at Kelly’s Camp in 1997—two little sunshades and two tables—and
they were shocked and amazed to have made a hundred dollars in a weekend at a
Crescent City event a year later.
After moving to Fort Bragg in the late nineties, the Joneses began selling at
more SCA events. Bill says, “Now I had someone to make the stuff, and I
could sell it and make enough money to put back into the business.” Debbie
adds, “I’ve always liked to make things, which started when I visited
a bead store in seventh grade. Bill has only made the habit worse because now
I can buy more beads and more expensive beads.”
In Montana Debbie had learned glass etching and stained glass work, but only
now could finally afford to apply her knowledge regularly. Using a diamond-tipped
Dremel, she might etch fleurs-de-lis, Celtic knots, and coat of arms onto ready-made
or recycled glassware. “If I can put it behind glass and trace it, I can
etch it,” says Debbie, who also learned how to make stained glass kaleidoscopes
and “went off on that.” She had also taught Bill to wrap wire and
to make chain maille, components he uses in unusual pieces of his own. It is
intense work, and one chain maille shirt involves about 150 hours. Some of his
pieces, as well as Debbie’s jewelry and glass work, are available at the
Creation Station, the Fort Bragg crafters’ co-operative to which Debbie
and Bill belong.
Besides giving adults a chance to dress up in leather and metal and fight with
rattan swords, the Society for Creative Anachronism also provides learning experiences
for both event vendors and the general public. Bill says that participating at
SCA events was an inexpensive place to learn what will sell and what won’t,
to hone Flying Swirl’s selling method, and to develop a public persona.
For the public, the SCA’s school programs demonstrate and teach the arts
and sciences of the day such as calligraphy, sewing and armor making.
While Debbie was still working full time at Sherwood Oaks Nursing Home, the Skwirls
did only fairs close to home because of booth set-up and break-down time constraints.
Bill, retired from the air force, was happy to remain self-employed, making chain
maille and selling at fairs. “I’d worked for enough fools, idiots
and morons over the years so that if I’m going to work for a fool, idiot
or moron, I want it to be me,” Bill remarks wryly. “That way I can
complain about the boss and he can’t ignore me, and I can’t ignore
him.”
At home Bill also had the job of co-parenting his step-daughter Merelan, now
nineteen years old and with a creative eye of her own. Reared up among “SCAdians” and “Rennies” dressed
in armor and period garb, the very outgoing and engaging Merelan was a bit of
a Pied Piper and always had a gaggle of kids following her around. At ten years
old, she was one of the youngest people to earn the SCA Award of Arms, the award
for which recipients must be nominated by several SCA members and which is given
by the Royalty. Besides running the front gate several times and directing parking,
she also helped bear water for SCA fighters. Now in college, she continues to
enjoy working with beads, and the Flying Skwirl inventory includes some of her
work. “She’s got her mom’s eye,” says Bill.
In 2000 the Joneses worked their first Renaissance Faire in Willits, and when
Debbie quit Sherwood Oaks about eight years ago, they were able to add venues
to their calendar. They have come to prefer doing Ren Faires because not only
is there more money to be made there but also because the SCA is “a closed
pool of people whose events are put on by members for members; but Ren Faires
are put on by individuals or companies for the general public,” explains
Bill. “The SCA is a non-profit and says ‘we teach, we fight—come
play with us,’ and goes into schools with demonstrations. Ren Faires are
for-profit and are all about entertaining—not educating—people.”
Debbie may be “the one who keeps Flying Skwirl going by making the stuff,” according
to Bill, but “being good at talking is my advantage.” In a milieu
of mirth and merriment, friends and foes, jousting and juggling, the self-described
somewhat anti-social Bill Jones becomes William Blood, a Renaissance barker beckoning
to passers-by to come in and enjoy temptation, “to relieve yourselves of
the burden of all those coins you’re carrying around” by taking home
some fine work hand-crafted by Oriana (that would be Debbie).
The Skwirls have come to be the de facto pirates and piracy booth, but not the “nice,
prettified Hollywood” version of pirates, says Bill in the brogue he uses
to draw in fair-goers with tidbits about pirates or Renaissance times. “You
could legally steal as long as you paid off the royalty and constables.” Besides
Debbie’s jewelry made with pirate coins, pieces of eight and ornate crosses,
their booth also offers pirate flags, pirate Band-Aids, and pirate bosun whistles,
which were actually regarded as a badge of office in the day. And even Jack Sparrow
and Barbossa impersonators have visited their booth.
The accoutrements of piracy may be in favor now, but trends come and go, and
Debbie has gotten good at reading them and creating accordingly. She also will
make things specific to the theme of a fair, like fairy wings for a Renaissance
Fantasy Faire or fantasy headpieces for a Middle Earth Lord of the Rings type
festival. For Mendocino’s own Abalone Festival, she naturally uses lots
of abalone shell, and right now she’s revving up for a Steampunk event.
A sub-genre of speculative fiction with elements of fantasy, Steampunk denotes
works set in an era when steam power was still widely used mixed with fictional
technological inventions like those found in the works of H.G. Wells and Jules
Verne. Accordingly, Debbie is incorporating watch parts, gears and keys in her
work to appeal to the Steampunk crowd and having fun doing it.
Yet another off-beat venue available to the Skwirls is the Quatre Con, which,
according to its website, “brings together the Four Genres to one Event,
to give you the ultimate experience in Horror, SciFi, Supernatural and Paranormal.” What
will Debbie conjure up for that one?
The Joneses now offer at their booth a mix of hand-crafted and ready-made pieces,
with the less expensive latter becoming increasingly popular with the buying
public. “It’s really hard to get out of the hand-made stuff what
you put into it,” Debbie says. “In today’s economy, people
want to spend forty dollars on eight pieces rather than forty dollars on one
piece.” The non-hand-crafted stuff, however, almost always includes Debbie’s
custom touches, such as the bright beads she might add to embellish the belly
dance belts she buys from a small, family-owned San Francisco business of long
standing. And she loves doing custom work. She may get a request for a piece
incorporating a design or pattern of significance to the customer, or “someone
might need a garnet and pearl necklace to go with her new red velvet gown.” Besides
thematic or period jewelry, Debbie also makes contemporary pieces for the general
public, “Stuff you can wear to work.”
Some faire folk call themselves “Urban Bedouins” because they all
arrive on an open field and set up an entire village with food, merchants, privies,
entertainment, security, and garbage collection and “run this little city
from Friday to Sunday night,” says Bill. “Then on Monday afternoon,
there’s worn down patches in the field, it’s back to being just a
park, and we go to the next place and do the same thing all over again. We joke
about having mortgages on our houses so we can sleep in parks.”
The Joneses spend at least half the year on the road selling at a minimum of
twenty-four events, and their travel year kicks off in February with the Tucson
Gem Show “where I spend all the profits,” says Debbie of the renowned
gem and mineral event irresistible to any jewelry maker. The official Northern
California Renaissance season begins in March in Sonora and ends in mid-November,
but Flying Skwirl’s 2010 calendar also includes venues such as the Queen
Bess and the Pirates event, the Nudestock Music Festival and the Sonora All-Hallows
Fantasy Faire. In the past year they have modified to practical efficiency and
cozy comfort an motor home which contains everything they need to live and work
on the road, including, ironically, lots of high-technology needed to conduct
the business of the very low-tech themed faires they do.
When Bill and Debbie are on the road, good friend and fellow crafter Helen Derrick
and her husband Peter often hold down the fort and tend to Flying Skwirl business
matters from home base in Fort Bragg. When possible, the Derricks enjoy doing
faires with the Joneses, and hand-spinner Helen working at her wheel in front
of the Skwirl booth can be an added attraction. “Because our health is
not always the best, traveling is limited, but going to faires with Bill and
Debbie gives us a little vacation/adventure time,” says Helen. “We
take Pete’s portable dialysis machine, the generator and supplies and go!
Bill and Debbie are always available in case of emergency, and that gives us
comfort and security we wouldn’t have by ourselves.”
Do the Joneses ever suffer from too close quarters or too much togetherness? “Fortunately,” answers
Debbie, “we get along, so it’s easy! We have different areas of responsibilities;
he carries stuff and puts it where I tell him to, and I set up the displays and
merchandise. We use our strengths and weaknesses to complement each other: I
have a good eye for arranging the items in the displays; he works better with
the general public.”
Besides enticing passers-by, William Blood’s droll banter and Oriana the
Meek’s creative force behind the table make a winning combination that
faire promoters seek out. “They like the way you promote yourself. They’re
trying to entertain the public, a job that falls not just to performers. They
want the vendors to entertain and engage the public as well,” says Bill
Jones. “It feels good to get to the point where promoters come up to you
and say ‘I’m putting on a show. Would you like to come?’”
And so Flying Skwirl continues to add shows and to fill the calendar, carrying
the past forward.
If you cannot
make it to the Society for Creative Anachronism’s
Estrella War or the Excalibur Medieval Tournament, you can still enjoy
a sampling of Flying Skwirl’s handiwork at the Creation Station
in Fort Bragg and the Mendocino Art Center. They also participate in
local events such as the Whale Festival, Paul Bunyan Days, the Abalone
Festival and several Christmas shows. Or check out their website flyingskwirl.com. |