Digital Extra

Yes, oil spills besmirch our beaches, but for one innocent bystander, a spill could literally mean the besmirching of his name.

Naturally, I'm referring to Narragansett's Walter "Salty" Brine, the affable broadcasting legend whose moniker adorns "Salty Brine" State Beach hard by the Galilee Breachway at Salt Pond.

As are the rest of us, Salty is relieved the damage wasn't heavier and is outraged that the spill could ever have happened.

Salty, 77, gets as much use out of "his" beach as anyone.

Every morning, he and wife Mickey go to Mass at the Christian Brothers Center and then drive to their favorite place in South County -- Galilee.

They check the beach out, gab for a few minutes with some of the locals who hang out on the pavilion benches year-round -- Joe Pullano, Hank Soar, the retired American League baseball umpire; and "Hurricane" (further identification unavailable and probably unnecessary).

Salty is enamored of Galilee for lots of reasons: the beach, of course; the boat traffic, the wheeling gulls and the fishermen, the people from all over who enjoy unfolding their beach chairs along the breachway on a summer evening.

Taken as a whole and redolent of salt water and clamcakes, the spot is just so, well, Rhode Island.

"It is the special place in South County," says Salty. "Oh, God, it's really wonderful."

Salty, who lives nearby at Harbour Island, is especially angry about the spill because he thinks that tugs -- vessels subject to practically no regulation -- should be required to carry more sophisticated fire suppression systems.

And this gives us insight into how Salty used to name his own boats. He points out that he and Mickey always paid careful attention to fire equipment on his cabin cruisers -- in order of ownership the Mickey I, Mickey II, Mickey III and Mickey IV.

The names give you some idea of why Salty and Mickey have been married 52 years.

Anyway, Salty was doing his own little bit to keep spill discussion hot when I caught up with him by phone on Friday.

Actually, I didn't catch up to him on the first try. Even though he recently had heart surgery, he was already on his way to Moonstone Beach, where the wrecked barge had come ashore, to tape his thoughts on the spill for Channel 10.

"It was a little raw," said Salty, who stood out on the beach for the session.

As part of their daily routine at Point Judith, says Salty, he and Mickey drive over to the lighthouse to admire the ocean vista, from the Harbor of Refuge on one side to Jamestown and Newport on the other.

"We just look out and make sure that everything is in its place," says Salty.

Little was "in its place" during the last tumultuous week or so in South County, and everybody who loves the region can only hope that scientists are right when they predict little lasting damage.

Let's hope that what does last is the resolve, by all of us, to demand the changes that government has avoided putting into place for far too long. And when I say all of us, I include you, me, Salty, Mickey, Joe, Hank and, of course, "Hurricane."

Gerry Goldstein is the Journal-Bulletin's regional editor for South County.