Between the Devil and the Deep...

A Chapter from Between the Devil and the Deep...

2010-08-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

CHAPTER ONE

The boat lifts to the ten-foot wave, hesitates at the top with a flap of the mainsail, then dips as it slides down its back side into the trough. A shudder...water washing down the lee side from the foredeck, and then she lifts again. The movement is hypnotizing. I lie back and watch the stars swirl through the clouds in the night sky. Fifteen knots of wind from the southwest is on our starboard quarter. Things are going great. The Gulf Stream is just ahead and it looks as if we will have a gentle trip across this fickle river of water that lies off the East coast.

Just a few hours ago we were in the safety of the bay at Beaufort, North Carolina. Close to a hundred boats lay at anchor with us, all cruisers preparing for their voyages to the Virgins, Bermuda, Antigua, and all points south to escape the cold of winter. We had joined them in late October after traveling down the Chesapeake and the Intercoastal Waterway. The major topic of discussion among the captains on the docks was the weather.

“What do you think?” asks one.

“Dunno. The wind's to the north,” suggests another. “Might change soon,” hopes a third.

Our problems centered around crossing the Gulf Stream. It can kick up a mighty fuss if the wind blows hard from the north. None of us wanted to face a “fuss” so early in our cruise.

“I think Sunday will be a good day,” one skipper forecasts.

“Dunno, Monday might be better. Give the stream time to die down.”

“I've made this trip 18 times,” said another. “It's always bad and you're always on a port tack.”

“Maybe Monday,” I mentioned tentatively to Judy to see what her reaction would be. “Any time you think is good.”

That was not very helpful, because I did not know what would be a good time. What I really wanted was to have someone, a “Wizard,” tell me to go on such a date at such a time and to guarantee me a calm and safe voyage.

There were some who paid for such a wizard. They contracted a private weather service. We would gather around to look over their shoulders and ask them what the situation was. Waving their fax, they would say that today is definitely not a good day. We would all heave a sigh of relief

“What does it say about Monday?” I asked.

“Monday looks OK, but they recommend Sunday.” I felt disheartened because we could not leave on Sunday. We had yet to provision, so Monday would have to be the day.

The motion of the boat makes me drowsy and my head keeps dropping to my chest. The auto pilot is doing all the work. My mind drifts in rhythm with the motion of the boat.

I first got interested in boats, especially sailboats, as a method of escape from the situation in which I lived. My father was an Episcopal priest and we had recently moved to a parish in the Mission District of San Francisco. Now the Mission District, to put it in theological terms, was a “white-washed tomb full of dead men's bones.” It looked nice in comparison to other slums, but it was just as bad. Up to this time I had lived a very sheltered life ~ in relatively good neighborhoods in Texas. I had fist fights and arguments with other kids but this did not prepare me for what I faced the first day I went to school at Everett Junior High in the Mission.

I was 12 years old and in the seventh grade. The first day I walked to school and when I got there I was sure it must be the wrong place. It looked like a prison. My last school was a two story building with a large grass athletic field. Maybe there were 300 students, but I doubt it. What I saw at Everett were 16 foot high fences enclosing a cement recreation yard. The entrance to the yard had a barred gate. I thought then about running away. I sure did not want to go to a school like this. If I had known the Hell I was about to enter, I do not think I could have walked through that gate.

The noise in the hallways, the hall monitors, and the strangeness ofthe “black” kids overshadowed everything. In Texas there had been strict segregation, although I was not really aware of it. I never even thought of it. Sure I played with some black kids who lived near us, but I never stopped to think where they went to school. I was very curious to see not only the black kids but also Navahos, Filipinos, Mexicans, Japanese, and kids from other strange places who looked different and spoke different assorted languages.

There were two negative experiences that first day. First, my lunch was stolen. The second experience was more than anything else was embarrassing. I was trying to find my way to the gymnasium. I had to ask one of the hall monitors where the gym was and he gave me directions. By this time, I was late and ran down the hall muttering, “Left turn at room 103, right turn at room 110, halfway down the hall, first door on left.” I went busting in through the door amid screams, squeals and laughter. The monitor had directed me to the girls' gym.

The most serious event at school came the following week. After lunch a bell rang and we all had to line up to go inside. I got in line as usual and was waiting to go in, when the guy in back of me pulled a knife and told me he did not want any prejudiced whitey going to his school. He was African American and was reacting to my southern accent. (In the South, I had gotten into fights because I had a Yankee accent.)

I was terrified. I had been in fights before but no one used weapons. I was angry. It was too much! I hauled off and smashed him in the face. He fell. I grabbed his arm and twisted it hard. He dropped the knife and a friend of his grabbed it and ran. A teacher came and hauled me into the principal's office. I did not have a chance to explain what had happened. It was obvious to the principal that I was at fault because,

“It's clear from your accent you are prejudiced against blacks.” My parents were called and my father came to school. He did not believe my story about the knife either. That afternoon received a note.

“Because you hurt one of our gang, we are going to beat the shit out of you!

Black Beauties.”

If I was attacked with a knife on the school grounds, what would they use if they caught me on the way home? After detention, I ran home.

Friday was a strange day at school. No one stole my lunch and I made my first friend, Milo. I received a second threatening note and had to make a mad dash for home again. This time I was chased by about ten members of the Black Beauties but I was too fast for them and made it safe behind the gate to our house.

Saturday Milo came over. He wore his hair in a “DA” style and was dressed in black pegged pants, striped shirt and an imitation leather jacket. His face had a ruddy complexion and his mouth sported a friendly grin. We went out and bought a pack of Phillip Morris cigarettes. I lit up, successfully suppressed a cough, and related my problem. Milo lit his cigarette by flipping open the match book cover and lighting the match and his cigarette with one hand. I was very impressed. He took a deep drag, let the cigarette hang from his lips, and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he listened. He frowned as I finished.

“Hell, you have three choices. One, you can continue to run every day. Two, you can face them and probably get killed, or three, you can join a gang who will protect you.”

“I've heard about those gangs. You have to be initiated don't you?”

“Yeah, and its generally hard and painful.” Milo took a drag on his cigarette, inhaled, and blew the smoke out his nostrils.

“You belong to a gang?” I asked, attempting to inhale like Milo, but ending up in a fit of coughing. Milo ignored my coughing and I was thankful.

“No, not yet. But if I do I'll join the White Shoe Gang that uses 22nd Street as their turf.”

“I don't want to join a gang. There has to be another way. Maybe I could talk to them.”

“Ha! That’s a sure way to get killed. They have sent you a warning. They can't back down now. They'll lose face. Bad for their rep, ya know.”

We smoked in silence.

“I got an idea,” Milo said, flicking his cigarette toward the gutter. “Let's explore and map out an escape route. If you can get away from them long enough, maybe they'll forget.”

We spent the rest of the day exploring service entrances and alleys between my house on Julian Avenue and the school. I used this escape route with great success most of the time. Once or twice guys who were pursuing would catch at our gate, but I could hold my own against them one at a time.

As we were exploring, Milo asked me in knew how to French kiss. I did not have any idea what he was talking about.

“What's a French kiss?” I felt my face flush with embarrassment.

“It's a very special kind of kiss.” Milo winked and smiled craftily. “Hell yes. Let's go,” I replied with more confidence than I really felt.

We walked up a street and Milo rang the bell and waited the answering buzz, that unlocked the door. Rosie lived on the third floor. As we climbed the stairs to her flat, the smell of stale cabbage and urine assaulted me. I could hardly breathe and was ready to turn and run. However, by then we were at the open door and Rosie was looking at me.

“Hi guys. Whatcha want?” Rosie stood with her hand on her hip and a wad of gum in her mouth. She was wearing a pleated blue skirt and a very tight beige sweater. She was older than we were, maybe thirteen, stacked. She had dark hair and was somewhat plump, but pretty. Her mother yelled from the back of the house.

“Don't just stand there. Get out and don't come back until five!”

“Mom's got company,” she said, straightening her raven dark hair with her hand. “Business as usual.”

“What kind of business does she run?”

Rosie and Milo started to laugh.

“What's so funny?”

“My mother's business is f--king. She f--ks for money. What rock did you find this cat under, Milo? Don't he know nothing?”

“Ah, he just moved here. He's a country kid, Rose. He don't even know how to French kiss. In fact, that's what we came here for. Thought you might teach him.”

I turned a bright red and wanted to run. But I knew if I ran I would lose Milo as a friend.

Besides, I really did want to learn to French kiss, whatever that was, might come in handy later.

“I thought so. Treat me to ice cream and a coke and I'll think about it.”

We went to a little cafe on the corner of 20th and Mission and had ice cream and cokes. Rosie said we needed to fmd a quiet place for the lessons.

“Can't you just explain it to me?”

“Jesus Christ, this kid is a real clod. You can't explain a French kiss. You have to do it.”

“I have to kiss you?”

“I don't think you'll find it all that bad. Come on, let's go.”

“Where?” asked Milo.

I took a deep breath. “Come to my house. Got lots of places with privacy there.”

At home, we went into the basement of the Parish House of the church and I proceeded to learn how to French kiss. At first, I did not like it but it grew on me…in more ways than one.

Under Milo's tutelage, I became a firecracker dealer at school. We would go down to Chinatown and buy cherry bombs, and other good things, selling them at school for twice what we paid.

Later we branched out into the pornography business. We wrote pornographic stories, even though we had no idea about real sex. I would type them on the church's typewriter and run them off on the mimeograph. The stories sold for five dollars each. “The Teacher and the Well Endowed Student” was our best seller.

At the Marina Green, I saw sailboats for the first time. They were so beautiful and full of promised adventures. They look like they're straining at their docklines ready to leave to seek adventure in the South Pacific, I thought. I would watch for hours as some of the boats sailed past the park toward the Golden Gate Bridge.

I tried to visit the boats every Sunday. I had a fantasy that the captain of one would see me and call out, “Son, you want to be a sailor?”

“Yes sir,” I would reply.

“Well, we're heading for Tahiti and are short a cabin boy. We leave in five minutes. Are ya game, boy?”

I would say “Yes, sir,” and jump aboard as the lines were thrown off.

I eventually had to join a gang for self-protection. The White Shoe gang, turf was at Twenty-Second Street and Valencia. The initiation was bad, but it was something I had to endure in order to become a member.

I had to beat up on a kid they pointed out. At least they did not make me use a knife. I had to crawl through the tunnel of fire. That is where you have to crawl between the gang members' legs while they beat you with their belts. It was almost a week before I could sit down again. Then I had to steal a carton of cigarettes from a store and something off a car, preferably the whole car, and be on the front row of the next gang fight. I did it all. I knew my father would kill me if the police caught me and I went to jail. The guys in the gang took pity on me, knowing that my father was a minister. They let me get away with stealing the hubcaps from a '53 Ford. Nevertheless, in the gang fight I got a bad cut on the leg. I told my parents I had fallen and cut it on the sidewalk. I am not sure the doctor who sewed it up bought that story.

So here I was, at the age of thirteen, a streetwise gang member. I did not like it and was terribly angry with my father for placing me in this situation. The only out was escape. In addition, the only escape I could see was the sea. Someday I knew I would be needed on a ship leaving for Tahiti.

Someday ...

YOU CAN PURCHASE THE WHOLE BOOK ON Amazon.com, Barnsandnobel,com, or write the author at Butterfly Creations, 41 Whitman Drive, Granby, CT 06037. Enclose a check for $18.00 (US) plus 3.50 for S/H. Hard back books are $30.00 plus 3.50 S/H. Books purchased from Butterfly Creations will be autographed.

Another new book in progress

2010-04-19T04:59:00.000-07:00

I am writing a book about my prison experiences. The working title is Voices from Prison.It will be about the inmates’ voices. What they say, who they are, and to lesser extent my involvement with them. In the book you will meet such characters as Red, The Scrounger, The Missing Choir, The Preacher, The Hostage, The Riot and The Saint. I do not know when the book will be finished, but I am about half way through. I’ll give you some samples soon.

NEW BOOK IS READY FOR THE PRESS

2010-04-12T04:31:00.000-07:00

I have just finished a new song book, Cruising Definition, which contains songs written mostly by Judy, some by both of us. Some of the music was composed by William Heuer. They are songs about our experiences cruising in the U.S. and the Caribbean. (See also Down Island now being published on my other blog site Swartsfager-books.blogspot.com or click on Down Island on right.) These songs were sung by the “Bitter End,” our sea chantey group all over the U.S. and the Caribbean. Some of the titles are The Ditch (ICW), Walking tour of Hardware Stores, Handsome Sailor, and A'roaming. Included is the music, words, information and some of my doodles. Any one with a guitar can play these songs, and to help them we will be offering a CD.

This book is comming off the presses as we speak. We are very excited about the way it looks and its ease of use. It contains the full melody, chords, words, and even a CD, by the Bitter End, of eleven sea songs. If you would like to see more click the link.

I THINK JUDY’S RIGHT

2010-03-22T04:55:00.000-07:00

I have been working very hard at home writing, sketching, composing, and doing a lot of church related stuff lately. I write on my latest book “Voices from Prison” for two to three hours in the wee dawn hours each day (except Wednesdays when I attend or have the 7:00 a.m. service), then after breakfast I work on compiling and writing a songbook of Judy’s songs about cruising. After lunch I spend some time either composing (I have composed part five of a Cantata for Pentecost which will be premiered in May), sketching (mostly for the song book), and working on scale model boats. Judy thinks it is because I am drinking so much coffee in the morning. I think she’s right.

It’s Hard to Say Goodbye

2010-03-15T03:22:00.000-07:00

It is indeed hard to say goodbye when someone dies. It is especially hard to say goodbye to one’s father, even though he is aged and has not been doing well for the last two years. Judy’s father, Lester A. Thrasher, and Episcopal Priest, died in his sleep last Sunday. He was 99 years and 10 months old. For the last two years he had been going down hill. As he put it, “I’m in God’s waiting room.” He was ready to die and transit to a new life. His last words to us, a blessing, were “Go and have fun.” We, Judy and I, are happy that he finally made it, but we will sadly miss his presence in the world we know. Although he was mostly deaf, he had a welcome and sweet smile for everyone he saw. He ministered to the other patients and the staff daily. At 10 a.m. you would find him going around seeing everyone in his wheel chair. He would take their hands, with a great smile, and ask them how they were doing. The staff at St. James House, Baytown, Texas, looked forward to seeing him make his rounds. The last few weeks he would tell the nurse who checked him at night that he would not be there in the morning. Sunday it was true — he had gone. Sunday morning, after we had discovered he had died, we turned on the radio as we sadly fixed breakfast. The first thing we heard was a cello solo — Lester was an avid Cello player. This was followed by a marimba solo — Judy is a percussionist and loved to play the marimba. Believe it or not the next thing we heard was a harpsichord and flute piece and Jane, deceased, played these instruments. Judy and I started laughing. Lester was sending us a message.

HI, MY NAME IS AUBREY

2010-02-15T03:14:00.000-08:00

I am going to write the blog for this week. My pet Ames is being lazy and he asked me to contribute a few thoughts. First you ought to know I’m a five year old (42 year old in dog years) English Cocker Spaniel. I have moved around a lot, but when I was two, I moved from Alaska to Ames and Judy’s house. At first I wondered what kind of humans these were. They lived on a boat in a dismal climate in Washington. We moved to CT and life became much more fun. I like to play in the snow and go visit my friends in the dog park. Here is a list of some of my friends – I can’t pronounce their human names so I name them by their breeds. The biggest one in a Great Dane puppy (He’s huge for a puppy. I can walk under him. Then there are two beautiful collies (They are a bit standoffish.) Also included are an African Ridgeback, Rottweiler (Did you know there is no such thing as safe sex with a Rottweiler?), and lots of other dogs big and small. We play tag a lot. I also have fun when the “Grandpuppies” come to visit. Their names are Rachael and Austin. They like to play and walk with me. Well, I think I have shared enough about my life. Maybe you could share some about your life in the “Comment” section.

I like to listen to music also. This photo was taken while I was listening to my humans playing sea chanties with their friends the Stephensons in Maine

I hope everyone is doing well this week.

2010-02-08T03:16:00.000-08:00

I was delighted to hear a few good comments on my book, BETWEEN THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP, last Sunday. Sometimes one writes a book and then wonders if anyone reads it. If you have read it please send me a note at ames111111@aol.com or add a comment positive or negative to this blog sight. I am always ready to do a book signing or talk, just let me know. Here are some other pictures from our trip to Singapore. The labels on the photo to the left refer to my short story, The Tiger Lady. One night we were anchored below these cliffs and I told my grandchildren, Austin and Rachael, the story, You will have to wait to read it. It will appear soon on my Author's Den page. Click on "More information about me..." on left on this page.

SINGAPORE TRIP NOTES

2010-02-01T07:53:00.000-08:00

I had been having a very dry creative spell. I was spending long hours at the computer, but with little results. I could not think of a story to write, and I did not want to rework any of the novels I had written. The well was dry. Alaina, Judy and I went to Bali for five days and stayed at a beautiful Hotel (?). It was called PURI SARASWATI,in Ubud and located next door to a Hindu Temple for the Goddess of Education and Music. It was very exotic and yet peaceful..<

We toured around the Island with a driver Alaina had hired. He was very nice to us and invited us to visit his home and family. They live almost completely outdoors. Not in Palm thatched huts, but in very nice two wall areas: dining room, living room, kitchen, rice storage area, and one four walled larger house in which they sleep. Perhaps it was the nearness of the Goddess of Education; perhaps it was noting more that the exotic peacefulness of the place, but the juices of creativity started pouring in again. We returned to Singapore for Christmas and my waking hours were disturbed with story ideas. It was driving me crazy. The whole family, Enrique, Alaina, Austin, Rachael and we old folks flew to Thailand, where we stayed in a fantastic hotel by the ocean. The second day I paced the floor in our hotel room while Judy was dressing for breakfast. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “Aren’t you having fun?” “Of course I’m having a great time,” I replied. “It’s just I keep getting stories in my head. I have a hard time going to sleep because they keep running through my mind. I have to do something about this.” “Well,” she said, “go right ahead. Write some out. Alaina and I are going shopping and will be gone all morning.” I sought out the Business Lounge and borrowed a computer. Here I stayed for most of the day. I wrote two short stories and started on a new book, Voices from Prison. The pressure to write had diminished, like the air was being let out of a balloon. I could sleep again and enjoy the sights. Still the stories came, some of which I have already forgotten, and some which I have drafted after returning home.

I did not want to leave Bali. I hope to return there soon and open my creativeness again. My well was full to overflowing.

A SIDE TRIP TO TEXAS

2010-01-25T03:33:00.000-08:00

We had to make a side trip to Baytown, Texas last week to see my father-in-law, Lester Thrasher. Lester, also an Episcopal Priest, is 99½ years old and not doing well. For all the years I have know Judy he has been like a father to me. I will miss him. It was a hard week for Judy (and me) and we used up a lot of tissues. I was doing pretty well until we went to visit Kemah, a town on Galveston bay where we once docked our Erickson 29. There were two places we visited every time we went to Baytown over the last twenty years or more: Tookies, a fantastic hamburger place where one could get a chocolate coke, and Blue Water Marine, a supply store for boating stuff. Tookies was closed. It had been flooded during the last hurricane. Bluewater was also closing. The economy did it in. I became depressed. As we drove back to Baytown for lunch, we discussed this. It was the combination of Lester and these closing made me feel very old. Everything seemed to be passing away. We went to the Baytown Seafood Restaurant, which was still there, and stuffed ourselves with fried shrimp, oysters, and catfish. Lester’s last words to us were: “I’ll not be here when you return.” and “Go and have fun.” I felt better after that. I will return to our trip to Asia next week.

MORE PIX AND INFO ON OUR TRIP

2010-01-18T08:18:00.000-08:00

During our trip to Singapore we made a five day visit to Bali, Indonesia, and a ten day trip to Phuket, Thailand. We stayed in a fancy hotel for three days and went elephant riding. I would like to try this during high traffic hours on 10/202, a nearby highway. I thing I would make better speed. There are two negatives to this: 1. an elephant will eat two tons of food a day (I do not know how much that is a mile). 2. Elephant exhaust will stop a car following you and create an environmental hazard.

For five days we sailed the northern part of the Malacca Straights, on the east side on Phuket Is and south. This was nothing like anything we had explored before. The Islands come straight up out of the sea. Some are large and others just a few yards in diameter. If you saw James Bond’s GOLDFINGER, you would have a good idea of what they looked like as this movie was filmed in this area.

Most of the larger islands had pristine beaches. One we stopped at had a cave which led to an inside bay and beach. Part of the bay was filled with mangrove trees.

Our charter, a fifty-five foot Swan, was led by Captain Horst (Austrian) and his crew and cook, Nam. The food was always excellent and in the evenings we could go ashore and eat if we so desired. Our Captain had a very colorful background (I would like to go back and spend another two weeks with him. I know he is source material for a new book!)

We are preparing to go to Houston to see Judy’s father who is 99. It is time for him to into a Hospice situation. See you all next Monday. PLEASE COMMENT BELOW IF YOU WANT MORE PICTURES. IF YOU DON’T I HAVE SOME 2,000 MORE I CAN PRINT. B E W A R E

CHRISTMAS IN SINGAPORE

2010-01-11T02:47:00.000-08:00

We are finally back from Singapore where we had a great Christmas with our daughter and her family. Singapore is mostly city with a huge population. It is clean and well ordered. Very seldom did we see police. Christmas there was very strange. The Christian churches had services like in the US except being in seven or eight languages. Even the other religions celebrated Christmas (commercialism). It was said by one Chinese lady said that Santa is like the jolly Buddha, except he has a beard. Every night for weeks before Christmas the downtown streets were full of thousands of people. They did not seem to be buying much but having a great party. At one place they had a snow machine so the children could see, and feel, snow. There were choirs singing and drummers drumming. You could buy satay, or fried meat, on a stick. Enrique liked the crab claw on a stick; the children liked the chicken on a stick. I liked the crab claw also. We went to St. Andrew Cathedral, which was jammed packed, for lessons and carols and the Christmas Mass. The service was straight Anglican, but the sermon was long – very long. I watch the preacher turn over pages, if he writes his sermons, and can sometimes tell when he is finished. After 20 minutes he had gone through his stack. “Praise God” I thought, “he’s finished!” He turned over his stack of typewritten sheets and said, “Now for my next point.” Do not misunderstand me. His sermon was theologically correct, but would have been better if he had published as a theological treatise. I was very thankful they gave us a hand full of printed material, including a small book on Jesus. This made good reading as he passed through the stack of sermon pages a second time. Then, having used all the written papers, he said “Now I will conclude with my third point.” I do not know what his third point was as I fell asleep. The children’s choir was extremely good and overall, Judy and I enjoyed the service. I hope you all had a blessed Christmas and are looking forward to a really good new year 2010. Ames and Judy Swartsfager

MERRY CHRISTMAS from Singapore

2009-12-18T20:18:00.000-08:00

We are now in Singapore and having a great time with Alaina and her family. We just got back from a week in Bali -Judy and Alaina had to pry me out. I want to live there. The place I liked the best was Ubud. This is a very old town and once the residence of the King. We stayed in a bungalow hotel next to one of the temples. It was so serene there. Just outside of town is where the artist community -artists,writers etc- have gathered from all over the world. Thus, I send you a blessed Christmas wish from way over here and if Judy isn't careful, I'll slip away to Bali.

Preparing to Travel

2009-11-16T03:50:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is almost here and we have a lot of things to do. We are leaving for Singapore in December. Both Judy and I are somewhat anxious to get ready for this trip. Why we are worried is unclear to us. We are looking forward to seeing our daughter, Alaina, and her husband, Enrique. Of course, we can hardly wait to see Rachael and Austin, our grandchildren. So you will forgive me is I am spotty in keeping up my blog. I hope to be able continue it on the trip and send photos also. HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!

I FEEL CURSED!!

2009-11-06T03:56:00.000-08:00

I cannot seem to keep my mind focused on one thing anymore. I had planned to write for three hours, practice banjo and guitar one hour, and work on making my scale model boats for three hours everyday. Organized and brain tickling, right. Instead I am writing music again. I like to write music, but it wasn’t in my plans. So far in the last two weeks I have written two anthems for the church choir. But even that gets disturbed by other things. On Mondays I participate in Adventures in living (a group of seniors who interact with 4th, 5th, and 6th graders for two hours.) This is too much fun to give up. On Tuesday mornings I have coffee and gab with a few men from church. On Wednesdays I have the 7 am service at church which is followed by breakfast. And one Friday a month I go to the Granby Men’s breakfast. And in between all this I have doctor’s visits. I have not written. I have not practiced. I have not worked on my scale models. The one thing I have not done is painting. Judy, my wife, says if she catches me with a paint brush in my hand I had better be painting the house.

WHAT IS MY PLATFORM?an essay

2009-10-19T11:39:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday (Oct.17, 2009) I attended the Connecticut Authors and Publishers Association (CAPA) and listened to Adele Annesi explain the meaning of “Platform” and ask what our personal platform is. A platform is a short summary of what you stand for. The life position you want to be found in your writing. A short tag line that explains you and your substance (I know I am not quoting her correctly, but that was the gist of it). I started to think about my own life and what I stand for. It is easy to say I stand for Jesus since I am an Episcopal priest, although I am a bit of a maverick. But within this framework, I am many other realities. My life seems to take a shotgun approach to the world. I am a writer and I love to communicate. I also love to adventure and see new places. I am a sailor, and even though I can no longer sail and cruise the seas, this is also part of who I am. I make scale models of old sailing ships and workboats. I used to be an artist and would like to paint again, but all these other things get in my way. I am a romantic and would like everyone to know about the trials and songs of the old sailorman under sail. This is why I love to sing and play these old songs with my wife. Over all of this, and perhaps the most important, I am a family man, and love my family and would like everyone to have the support and love I feel from my wife and daughters. They have a lot of patience with my activities even though I have dragged them all over Central America. So what is my platform, my tag line? I want the “real thing” like Coca Cola but I am not sure what that is. I seem to want to share who I am, which is why I wrote Between the Devil and the Deep... I also am writing a book fictionalizing two years of my life in a ghetto. Down Island, another of my books is about sailing in the Caribbean. You can read it on my blog site (http://swartsfager-books.blogspot.com). Tenderfoot Dude, a pre-teen book about my adventures as a cowboy is written, but not published. Could it be, as Popeye says, “I yam who I yam?” I do not know as yet. But I am working on focusing and discovering what it really is. What an adventure!

2009-10-19T08:46:00.000-07:00

THERE IS ANOTHER POST COMING SOON.

HAPPY BIRTHDAT DIANNE!

2009-10-12T06:46:00.001-07:00

(I do not understand why I am not able to make paragraphs in thbis blog. The others are OK, but this one will not cooperate with me. If anyone has I an idea, please let me know.) I’m going to take time today to introduce a member of my family: my sister Dianne. She is older than I (I will not say by how much). As all children do we have argued and had our disagreements as we grew up. Overall, we are pretty close, but not as much as I’d like. Of course it does not help with me living across the country from her. She and her husband Bob live in California. During their life together they have traveled to many places to live and even more to visit. They have two daughters Elaine and Annette who live near Baltimore and for the past two years the whole family has come to Granby, CT, for Thanksgiving. Sadly, this year they cannot come. Dianne is a caring and loving person. I can remember when I was in High School and was awarded a “letter” for music. She gave me a very expensive sweater to wear it on. I can also remember when we were at home together during the summer because we were both working; I made my first chocolate pie. I had no idea what I was doing so I cooked the filling, put it into a raw crust, made a lattice top crust and baked it for 45 minutes. The pie was awful – horrible tasting, rubbery and very hard to eat. But Dianne ate a piece without saying anything. After that, we both agreed not to make another chocolate pie, and I haven’t since then. We have tried to get together during the years as much as possible, but I was in Central America, or she was in South America, etc. Thinking back, I am not sure if I have told her how much I appreciate her and love her. If I have not, this is a good time to do it for all to see. I LOVE YOU DIANNE AND THANKS FOR BEING SUCH A GREAT SISTER!

THE BITTER END

2009-10-06T06:30:00.000-07:00

Judy and I started singing sea songs and chanteys way back in the late seventies. We called ourselves the Bitter End. In the eighties we started singing for others and hoped to make enough money to purchase amplification equipment. We sang monthly at Canetti’s Restaurant in San Pedro, California. We became more known and we able to sing at the LA Maritime Museum, Yacht Clubs, and a concert series in Anaheim. As we traveled around the country we sang in Florida, Maryland (for the Governor’s party), through out the Caribbean, Venezuela, Trinidad, and Columbia, SA. I am telling you all this because after a three year hiatus, we played last Saturday at the Granby Library. There between twenty and thirty people there. All of us had a lot of fun, but we did not sing (or play) as well as we used to. So, back to practice. After the concert we were bushed and it took me two days to recuperate. At least that is my excuse for not posting on Monday as I had promised. I will do better in the future.

WE HAVE BEEN VISITING

2009-09-28T05:43:00.000-07:00

We missed the last two weeks of blogging because we went to Maine to visit with Jim and Judy Stephenson, our cruising friends (See Between the Devil and the Deep… now on sale at Xlibris.com). We laughed and the fun we had in the Virgin Islands, and we almost cried because we missed the cruising life. We spent one afternoon singing (Jim and Judy have great voices and musicianship). I attempted to get them to come to Granby, CT., to sing with us this coming Saturday at the Library, which is celebrating Mariners Month during October. They would have been a great addition to the Bitter End, our sea chantey group. This reminds me. I have a lot to do before Saturday. The library is going to display my sailboat models so I must leave this blog and start getting them ready. Next week I’ll tell you how the concert went.

TOO TIRED

2009-09-09T08:51:00.000-07:00

I am so tired of all the hoopla in the papers, radio and TV about the president daring to talk to school children. I’m sure it is a very sinister plan to get kids to stay in school and become good citizens. I can not believe that parents would keep their children from listening to our president. I just read in the newspapers that parents don’t let their children sleepover anymore. I don’t know what our country is coming to these days. Perhaps I am just too old to understand.

THE LAST DAY OF THE MONTH

2009-08-31T12:03:00.001-07:00

Why is the last day of the month so hectic? I seem to be running all day. One of the reasons I’m running is preparing for the Maritime Month at Granby Library. The library is going to display my models of sailing ships and exhibit books about the see – fiction and non-fiction. Judy and I are going to unearth THE BITTEREND for a concert on Saturday, October 3, at 2 p.m. Come a join us.

BE CAREFUL OF AGENTS, SOME ARE WOLVES IN AGENT CLOTHING.

2009-08-24T07:30:00.000-07:00

(Did you know that if you put your curser in the fish tank on the right it will draw the fish toward it? Good luck fishing!) A week has past and I am no longer frustrated, but I still have a warning for writers. Be very careful when you are looking for agents. I was “taken” only two (almost three) times by agents who directed me to editors who never finished the work and both agent and editor disappeared after getting their pay. I had an agent “just north of New York City” with a huge mailroom so I had to mark my manuscript “requested by _______” in order to have the agent receive it in a timely manner. Turned out that she was about 200 miles north and the mailroom was a mailbox in front of her house. She was a piano teacher who would receive a batch of manuscripts and send them to publishers five at a time. I suppose she would get one published every so often. The word is research, research, and more research. It is so tempting for a new author to grab at anyone who might get his or her book published. I know. I was one of them!

FRUSTRATIONS OF AN AUTHOR

2009-08-18T07:32:00.000-07:00

The hard thing about writing is not the composition of a book. It is the getting the book published. When I write, I write to express something of myself and what I think in the art of words. The job is only half way done when I’m finished. The communication of my ideas to others is my goal. What would we have lost if Picasso and Monet, or any other artist had not been able to sell their paintings? Not that I’m in their league. Painting is only half the work, the other half is communication the painting to others. When I finish a book I try to sell it to an agent. But agents don’t really want to see books from unpublished writers. One book of mine received more than two hundred rejections before I gave up. Was the book that bad? I don’t think so, but then I’m prejudiced. It had won first place in two writing contests. Oh well. You can see that I would get excited when a “publisher” e-mailed me wanting to print a book I had written for juveniles. I sent him the manuscript. The letter came back that the work had merit, but since it would take three years to recoup their expenses, I would need to share the cost to the tune of $895! No deal!! More of this next time.

FIRST CRUISE

2009-08-10T18:11:00.000-07:00

The house is very quiet now that the grandchildren are gone. I think that I have been missing them. However, there are many things to do. I bought a plastic model kit (never done one of these before) of the SS President Cleveland. I was on this ship with my family back in the early ‘50’s. I think I spent more time with the crew than with the rest of my family. The cruise , which was six weeks long, took us to Los Angeles, Hawaii, Yokohama, Japan; Manila, Philippians; Hong Kong, Kobe, and again Yokohama, Japan; and finally to Hawaii and San Francisco. Although I had wanted to be a sailor for a few years before this, the trip solidified my yearnings to be a seafarer and visit distant lands and people. The story of this cruise will be found in my book, Between the Devil and the Deep… which will be out soon. A few years later, I decided to try to get a position on the Cleveland, as a Steward (Bell Hop). I checked with the union to see how should go about this. They said I first had to take a two week course at the Maritime Academy in Vallejo, CA. In this course, they taught how to use three types of lifeboats (oars, Push-pull and engine), how to use and help passengers dawn a life jacket, first aid and many other things. I got in trouble during a loading of the lifeboats exercise. The order over the loud speaker came: “Man the lifeboats.” Everyone was at their station trying to get “passengers” into lifeboats. I was yelling “Women the life boats!” The trainer told me “the order was to man the lifeboats.” I replied, “You fill your life boats your way, and I’ll fill mine my way!” I do not think I will ever build an other plastic model kit. They are really bad...or maybe I am not so good.

GRANCHILDREN

2009-08-04T08:56:00.001-07:00

I believe that grandchildren are a gift from God and a test of our patience from God. That they are a gift there is no doubt. We have just had a month long visit from our daughter, Alaina Hernandez, and her children, Auston and Rachael. They are very intelligent children and polite most of the time. Auston, 12, tried very hard to be helpful to me by not letting me carry heavy things. He likes to cook and he does make fine pancakes. He is looking forward to playing football next year. He is lively and very curious. Rachael,9,her mother calls "Ray-Ray," much to my confusion. We had an English Cocker Spaniel whose name was Ray and we often called he "Ray-Ray." Every time her mother called her I look for a dog. She very alert and likes to play the piano and other creative projects. She is very pretty and reminds me of another granddaughter Sara, who is married and has four children of her own. So I'm afraid I called Rachael, Sara several times. We have a dog, Aubrey, another English Cocker. The kids love her, but sometimes she has to run under an end table to get away from the attention. After all, she lives with a couple of old timers. Now the patience part. Sometimes the kids would do what kids do - argue and tell on each other. It's normal I know, because I did that with my three sisters (Dianne, Jackie and Joy). But I have done my duty raising three daughters. So I have to learn to be patient all over again. I think I did pretty well this time. I hate to admit that we miss them and the noise and clammer of two children running around the house. Aubrey misses the also and each morning checks their rooms to see if they had returned. We are very thankful for their visit and can hardly wait to see them again.

MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT BLOGGING

2009-07-27T06:45:00.000-07:00

This is my first attempt at creating a blog, and I am having a tough time trying to get it correct. My goal is to meet others with the same interests and have conversations (pro and con) about them. My main interests, beside religion, are writing, sailing – especially cruising, sea shanties and songs, and prison chaplaincy. (You can add the Woodstock Rock Festival to the list as I was chaplain there.) I have written a book of Sea Songs, The Bitterend Song Book, that goes with a tape. Yes, I said tape. CD’s were not invented when I wrote the book, but I have tried to make CD’s from the tape. They are not to good but OK, I think. I have also written a Cruising Prayer Book. If I can figure out how to do it, I will place what I have left up for sale. I have a new book, Between the Devil and the Deep…: Memoirs of a Maverick Priest, coming out soon. I let you know when it is ready. Please sign in as a FOLLOWER, which will help me reach you. I hope to hear from you soon.