
Songs and Verses from the School of Life
I was born on a cray boat somewhere in the Southern Ocean off a coast that has since changed its name. My mother sang to keep time with the tides; my father told me stories of life true and false. None of the above is true, as I actually came to be on this earth in Paekākāriki in December of 1948. What I kept of my birthplace was the wind from the sea and the rhythm of the waves, after which I have spent my life trying to put words to it.
I have crewed on many ships and captained one. The Lady Sterling now carries me between ports where I trade passage for shanties and a hot meal. I have dined with princes and paupers and choose the latter. I have landed in storms and sheltered bays and have 4 fabulous children to carry on. I write what the sea gives me: kept promises, the loneliness of a full moon over empty water, the lure of a calm passage.
I have had love and loss and appreciated both. I have seen some of the world and met some wonderful people. I have journeyed and felt the dawn on my brow and the sunset on my back. I have loved my life.
Some nights, the crew asks for the old songs. Some nights I give them new ones and let them travel with the melodies. Some nights are just for me. Jump aboard; adventure awaits.
— NC, somewhere south of anywhere
Lady Sterling — a two-masted schooner, older than she looks and better tempered than her captain.
A 6-string bought in a port whose name I traded away in a game of cards. It still owes me a song.
Presently working the strait between two coasts, where the fog keeps its own schedule.
Paid in coin, in passage, or in a story I've not heard before. Always in gratitude.






— an animated watch, kept from the crow's nest —
Got an opinion, a rumour, or a story of your own? Pin it to the board.
Cast a message in a bottle. It reaches me eventually — most things do, given enough tide.