The Thrill of the Hunt...And The Agony of the Catalog

So if you know us at all, you know that poking around in such places as thrift stores, estate sales, and antique stores is a hobby of ours. I don’t know if hobby carries the right tone. Obsession is to strong a word so let’s go with passion to describe how we feel about the thrill of the hunt. We don’t really have a methodology or cutesy terminology like those guys on television. We have our regular spots in towns that we know, but when faced with a new place to explore we go where the four winds take us, or now where the Iphone tells us to go!

No matter the context, the idea of finding something unique, rare or just fun at a decent price has taken us on many adventures. Sometimes we like to go on long junkin’ adventures like our trip to Cincinnati. Other times it is to a place that just seems like it may house cool stuff to look at. Jordan always says to me that she does not “trust” people that don’t collect something. That mantra has kinda always stuck with me and I truly believe that the act of collecting is a true human characteristic.

Speaking archaeologically, I have seen this collecting behavior expressed within a prehistoric context. Without going into the boring chronological/theoretical cannons of archaeology, I will do my best to explain. Just about every time I have excavated a Mississippian farmstead (think people who grew the corn to sustain the folks living on the mounds at Etowah), a site type that dates to say roughly AD 1000 to European contact, you always find three or four projectile points dating to say some 2,500 (Late Archaic) years earlier. There are no other archaeological signatures to suggest the site was occupied at this earlier period, so it is always a head scratcher.

However, one afternoon while out working along the floodplain of the Black Warrior in Alabama, I was excavating a unit within a medium-sized farmstead and this very same thing occurred. Up from the screen comes two medium stemmed projectile points that clearly, from a chronological perspective, did not belong at the site. My mentor was working in the unit with me and VJK goes, “I think these guys must have loved to collect arrowheads”. We began a discussion about this tendency and for me; I walked away from the site that day with a better understanding of early antique hunters.

I know that many collectors have a laundry or wish list of things to find. Sure, if pressed I can name a few things I would love to track down in the wild, but for me it is much more about the surprise. You just never know what you may find on that next isle or booth. I can think of a few pieces within our primary collections (tiki and mid century modern) that are unique and a thrill to find, but nothing with a real sense of “jaw droppingness”. This all change recently for us.

So one Sunday afternoon, Jordan and I head out to some of our regular spots here in Atlanta. No real sense of urgency, just a relaxing afternoon looking at stuff. Our last stop of the day was Treasure Mart. This is a great place and if you read this blog regularly, this is where the infamous Kabobit came from. We stroll in, head to the back, and wander around. There appears that nothing really out of the ordinary is there, aside from a classic piece of artwork known as “Tribal Dog”.

Tribal Dog deserves a bit of a tangent. If you are serious about hunting collectibles and such, there will come a day when you actually come across something that was once your own. Our friend Brian points out things he “believes” were once his all the time, but I’m still not convinced. It happened to me one day in a thrift store when walking down an isle I came across a container that I know 100% was once mine. Well it happened to Jordan finally. Hanging on the wall in Treasure Mart is a piece of Jordan’s art I like to call Tribal Dog. I don’t really remember the context of her doing this painting, but let’s just say it is not going to win any awards! How it got to Treasure Mart is a mystery. We donated the piece to a thrift store when we moved to Northcrest, so I guess someone bought it and then tried to consign it at Treasure Mart?? Or maybe Treasure Mart buys lots at Thrift Stores?? I have no clue…but it is still there if anyone wants a Jordan original and I think it has been marked down three times. Once more and it goes to the Last Chance section and then, well I don’t even want to think about that fate!

Ok, back on track, after the excitement of our rare Tribal Dog encounter, we head out. On our way out, this four foot redwood carving up against the wall catches our eye. I have no idea how we missed it when coming in, but we did. On closer inspection, we both realize what is in front of us. It is the find of our collecting life so far. There in front of us is a four foot tiki carved by no other then Barney West. This guy is a legend and we cannot believe what we are seeing.

On closer inspection, we notice a note is attached to it…the plot thickens. Not only is this tiki going to be the signature piece in our Wiki Wiki Room, but this guy is a part of Atlanta tiki history. This calls for some background.

Barney West was a legendary and prolific tiki carver based in Sausalito, CA. Everything he carved came out of his store, Tiki Junction. Here is some ephemera for his place, including his catalog. Make sure to check the scale of some of his carvings, some of these guys are 15 ft or more.

If you look at this page of the catalog, 3rd row all the way to the right, you'll see ours: Marquesan Family Tiki

Examples of his stuff can still be found all over the place. Most, if not all, of Trader Vic’s locations have both large and small pristine carvings of his. For example, Atlanta has a couple giant ones outside and one of my favorites inside.

Also, here is a great Moai carving from the now defunct, yet reopened Chicago Trader Vic’s:

Ok, so we have established that this tiki was carved by one of the legends. Now here is the story on the Atlanta connection. Originally, Barney carved this tiki for the now closed and demolished Luau restaurant that once stood at 1999 Peachtree Rd, right across from Piedmont Hospital. The original building was constructed at some point between 1956 and 1959 by Carling Dinkler.

The place was a hit and really became the talk of the town during the tiki bar heyday of the late 1950s and early 1960s. A few years after opening the Luau, Dinkler sold the restaurant at a huge profit to the Dobbs family. Dobbs started as a restaurant franchise and over time grew into a large airline catering company. I know I certainly remember all the Dobbs trucks when flying out of Atlanta as a child servicing all the Delta planes.

Interior of the Dobb's Atlanta Luau

Around the early-mid 1960's, the Dobbs Luau changed to the Dobbs House Tiki and with that came a new exterior:

At some point, probably in the 70’s, the building was torn down and this tiki was returned to Barney West out in California. The tiki consigner’s mom was out travelling in California and stopped at Tiki Junction. While there, the mom actually purchased this tiki directly from Barney West. I can only speculate, but I wonder if she told Barney that she was from Atlanta and he was like “Hey, I got the perfect tiki for you!”

I have to say that I never thought we would come across something like this. We feel very fortunate to have this guy now in our collection. To have not only a piece carved by a legend, but one that has a direct link to the tiki history of Atlanta is an honor. The thrill for us is the hunt. While some prefer to stick to hunting through catalog and internet pages, we choose the open road and random places while searching for our next great find.