Writing In The Gulf of Panama

Some days it feel as if years have passed since I have been at sea, yet in reality it has been just a few months. This morning, as I warmed up for my days work with a third coffee, I looked at the track of my last voyage to see where I was last year on this day. I was three days out of Archipelago De Las Perlas, and one hundred and twenty miles west of Buenaventura, Colombia. I was fighting a…

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Lessons amongst the waves

It was windy here in Odenwald yesterday. We walked through the thick pine forests in the late afternoon, protected from the wind and enduring the light rain. I was glad not to be at sea. Last year at this time I was getting ready to transit the Panama Canal. After that transit, came one of the most arduous sails I've ever experienced. I'll not bore you with the details, but for those interested there's more here. When I moved ashore last November,…

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You have to live it up before you can write it down.

"Write what you know." unknown "You have to live it up before you can write it down." Robin Moore.   Those two lines are well known, but sometimes not so well understood. Write what you know is about more than remembering places and event. It is about recalling your emotions and reactions, the reactions and words of others, taking your life experiences and grafting them into your writing. After three decades of 'living it up', it is now time for me to write it down. Not…

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Current works in progress

Shadow House Moral Imperative - Moral Dilemma Events from my life inspired, shaped and coloured the first two novels in this series. Encounters with dolphins at sea, and Ric O'Barry's moving documentary 'The Cove', drove me to write the third. In Shadow House, I sought to examine how people - most of us in fact - change and deform under the pressure of life. We wear a façade, to impress or deceive, or simply to survive in a hostile environment. Sometimes that change…

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When is enough enough?

When is enough enough? How often have we read that in writers and editors blogs? I remember years ago sitting on a friends yacht, looking around at the interior and wondering when he was going to finish it. A clamp and a wire coat hanger held the single burner stove was in place. The three small draws from an old Singer sowing machine table formed the only closed storage. Piles of books and magazines were held in place by bungy cord. I…

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Are most writers odd?

If one reads many of the online articles claiming to pigeon hole writers, there would seem to be only one way to go - straight to the nut farm. There can be no doubt that it takes a particular personality type to sit in a cave for eight hours a day eschewing all attempts at contact from the outside world. The Internet abounds with anecdotal evidence of this strangeness amongst the writing elite. Stephen King has even admitted to one or two…

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Waiting in Panama

Another day marking time. Rain washes away the overpowering humidity, leaving it in stilled  pools on the litter strewn ground. La Brisas, Balboa, La Calzada de Amador. Names unknown to me just short days ago I now call home, and will forget them as quickly as they fade into a hazy horizon of life. Las Perlas are calling, temptation is strong, yet I wait still, knowing how regret will follow leaving if leaving comes too soon. Before those last minute provisions are…

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