I am a war baby and, as such, am to be pitied. Questions like "which war" will be steadfastly ignored. The bare fact that I was actually born is more than enough information to be going on with. It is pertinent to say that I spent all of my formative years living within a spit of the Atlantic The sea played a huge role in my development. So did music. Not just the "pop" music of the day, but all kinds. Of course, it helped that the pop music of my young days included all kind of music! Remember Mantovani? Dave Brubeck? Dylan? Peter, Paul and Mary? Bill Haley? Alma Cogan? Mantovani and his Music of the blasted Mountains! Et al! Magic days. Days longer, brighter, warmer and fuller that the post-formative ones. Or so it seemed... But that's regressive. (Actually though, the word "regressive" should not be an apology! If we were prepared to be a shade more regressive in our thinking we might just
learn something from history, because we don't seem to! We charge ahead, changing things simply because they can be changed, with little or
no regard for the consequences. That can't be right...can it?)Above: What - I hear you ask - is such a picture doing on the page of someone who has spent most of his life either sitting at a typewriter or blowing jazz in smoke-filled clubs? The answer is simple - I was not always an unfit, itinerate, boozing reprobate.Buy the book and you can read all about it! Above: On board the "Queen Mary", when I was single,footloose, and often plastered. On rough trips the
bell of my saxophone (a baritone on that gig) would frequently hit the deck. I don't remember the guys'
names but I'll never forget the times we had criss-crossing
the Atlantic.
After the military, I did what most army musicians did - I
joined the big band circuit in London, which inevitably led
to the recording session scene. Demanding work, that.
But hellishly rewarding. Though I will not be
specifiic, I can be heard footling about on records you may
well have in your possession. They'll be antiques now, of
course. Just like myself. And, if you do own
one, you too, for that matter.
I met Elaine on a concert tour. Elaine and her brother,
Derek - who is currently playing "Charlie" in the BBC
series, "Casualty" - were on the bill and I was M.D. for the tour. A little imagination and you'll get the
picture. Above: A year later the three of us were a trio. In
true 60s style, we called ourselves "Odin's People" When I can get around to it there will be a link to some of the
sounds we made.
Above: I was not too strong on recording stuff for posterity back in those days, the clips you find on the "Music" page were recorded off the radio by my dear old mother, using the highly technical mic-in-front-of-the-speaker method!By now, I was painting and writing novels in my spare time,
of which there was an abundance. Later, I was
fortunate enough to have a novel published. I am currently
working on my twelfth. The painting started selling,
too. Rosy times! Now, two children later, we
are back home in Cornwall. The gaps need filling,
because they are huge. But that will come later... Above: This beauty, "Shadowfax", will fill one of the gaps.
We sunk a not-so-small fortune into her, in Bahrain.
Lost the lot, plus the houses of several family members.
That's me, leaning nonchalantly against the wheelhouse, and
mum, bless her, emerging from the up-and-over. Elaine
took the photograph. Above: Lifted out of the water at Falmouth. Above: Many 1000's of pounds later, alongside Mina Sulman Dock
in Bahrain. Above: I think we took this one at Falmouth. Above: Picture courtesy of a Bahraini newspaper,
proving that the venture could have actually worked, given
more time. But time, as we all know, is no respecter of
personage, and it ran out for us at the very last gasp.
But here's the thing. If Shadowfax had run its course I
would not be here now, doing what I am doing. And, where I
am now - with one or two minor exceptions - is where I
should be. Interesting and instructive though the
Shadowfax era was, it wasn't me!
And here's something else... It is said that when one door
closes, another one opens up.
When the door closed on Shadowfax, leaving us stranded in
Bahrain without a penny, chance had me in the bar of the
Gulf Hotel (probably trying to scrounge a pint!) when the
manager was lamenting the fact that they didn't have a
photographer to cover an imminent event. And since I owned
a camera... That chance led to me eventually becoming the
photographer for the Gulf Air Magazine - The Falcon. The
Gulf Hotel, coincidentally was, and still is, owned by Gulf
Air. So that's not such a giant leap. (Issue 18 Pictured
below) It's not much to look at now, of course, but at the
time it did ok for itself...and us!
The whole thing, Gulf Air included, was in its infancy and
colour processing was not an option. I guess there is still
a Gulf Air magazine today, and it's bound to be a full-colour
glossy thing. But I haven't seen one, and am not interested
in seeing one. It was all black and white (pictures) in
those days. And below is that very first photograph that
led on to so many things. A dinner or something for Gulf
Air bigwigs...Bless 'em! What I had not taken into account
was the fact that, if I took the pictures, I also had to
develop and print them! This was a nightmare at first, and
I spent most of my time with a copy of the Kodak "Guide To
Photography" on the bench beside me, having begged, stolen
or borrowed an enlarger and all the kit and chemicals
needed to produce prints. It actually beggars the
imagination what you can achieve when your back is against
the wall.
I have mentioned elsewhere that I am rubbish at
drawing/painting figures. But it's strange how one thing
leads to another...Below is a cartoon I was asked to take a
stab at. This was going to be a monthly thing, but it never
(thankfully) went that way. I think there was one more
before it fizzled out completely. Not a great surprise,
right?
If you're a photographer you'll no doubt recognise the word
"reticulation". This was one of my major problems when it
came to washing negatives. The tap water - the cold tap,
that is - came at a temperature you could easily bath in! I
had to run it over an ice bag simply to avoid reticulation.
And too many times I didn't manage to do that. The
"photographer" period lasted some two years, by which time
I had redressed some of the financial balance problem and
the Status became more or less Quo again.