It's Bill, 8/17/25: Once Upon a Skunk

I think most everyone has a skunk story. Or two. So, here’s my skunk story. If you like it, please pass it on—it’s a pretty sweet yarn. And, all too true.

Bill, still smiling after a close encounter of the striped kind.

Building on the Edge

The Crews Quarters was built on a rocky side hill, 350 feet from the ocean. It has the best of all ocean views. A perfect site—but difficult to build on. We scratched and scraped off what overburden there was to create a custom foundation. The foundation consisted of two terraced concrete footings and some low walls. This created a partial basement—six feet high on the ocean end, tapering to nothing uphill, with a sloping gravel floor. For access, we installed a wide door under the deck.

A Surprise in the Basement

About three years ago, I had a workman in this low, sloping gravel basement. He told me, “Think you got a skunk down there!” I said, “What, a skunk?” “Yup,” he said. “Skunk. Looks like he burrowed hisself in where the gravel goes up to the footing on the outside.” That was enough for me. I got myself down there. Sure enough, something had burrowed in.

Wind, Darkness, and... Skunk

By the time I got down to The Crews Quarters’ basement door, curiosity had overcome common sense. In the door I went—not thinking at all. About a 20-knot wind was blowing off the water. As soon as I went in—BLAM!—the basement door blew closed, tightly, behind me. I was in the dark. Door jammed shut. No light on yet.

Cursing softly to myself, I carefully groped around looking for the overhead light switch. Aha—there it is. As I switched the two cellar lights on, I smacked my head into the bulb above, plunging myself into partial darkness—glass in my hair. I looked toward the remaining light. Whoops! There he was, just below the light, five feet away, looking at me. Mr. Skunk.

An OM Moment

I hadn’t been taking yoga yet. But now was a start. I didn’t move. He didn’t move. The light reflecting in his eyes. It was an OM moment. The skunk and I were together with the Universe.

After about a long minute, I slowly shifted my body toward the jammed door. Keeping my eye on my new soul mate, I body-checked the door. And burst into the sunshine.

Exorcising the Skunk

Now I had a skunk locked in the basement of The Crew Quarters. No good. I called up John, who sometimes helps with maintenance.

John said, “What! A skunk?”

“Yes, John. A skunk.”

“OK, I’ll be over.”

When John got there, he said he would help me—but from the outside, by the skunk hole.

“You go in. I’m not!” he said.

In get-it-done mode, I went in. Yup, there he was, my bud, Mr. Skunk. I told him to leave. Out he ran, past surprised John.

I went outside and checked on John, who was still wobbling a bit. We stacked rocks around the foundation—no more burrowing.

To tell a skunk story, the best way is to have one.