Thursday, May 25, 2017


by Ray Jason            

photo by Ray Jason
Years ago, I nick-named this modest little spot The Domino Triangle.  It was too tiny for an actual building, so a tarp had been slung to provide shelter from the sun and the rain.  Beneath it was a folding card table and some battered chairs, where the locals would play dominoes. 
            When the tropical heat would begin to lessen in the late afternoon, the men would start gathering.  They arrived with beer and a little pocket money.  They also brought something that is increasingly rare in our modern world – modest, earth-bound happiness.
            Their conversations revolved around the elemental concerns of bedrock Humanity – too much work and not enough pay, the entertaining inscrutability of wives and girlfriends, and the follies of their grandchildren.  Nobody was discussing how many pixels the next iPhone camera would have or how Amazon’s stock price is so high when they never turn a profit.


Friday, May 12, 2017


by Ray Jason

Monique and Jack - 2 young sea gypsies
The waters of the Archipelago of Bliss have been a wondrous reservoir of inspiration for me as I meander through my Middle Years.  My secluded life amidst these tranquil islands has blessed me with a perspective and clarity that is difficult to attain by those chained to the cacophony of the Real World.  
But since my earliest conscious dawning in my teen years, I have been attracted not only to a life of thought, but also to the call to action.  Jack London, Joseph Conrad and Richard Burton were the type of literary figures who appealed to me because they combined both words and deeds. 
Lately, I have been questioning whether the comfort of these peaceful lagoons has seduced me away from that combination of adventurer and philosopher which so exhilarates me?  Have deeds succumbed to words?  Peering into my heart of hearts, I have to answer, YES.
So it was time for a change.  Fortunately, the gods of adventure smiled upon me with an exciting possibility.  Some highly-skilled sailors, who are also very dear friends, invited me to join them in an attempt this summer to sail across the legendary Northwest Passage.  When they offered me this opportunity, I immediately thought of Alan Shepherd’s line in the movie THE RIGHT STUFF when they were recruiting him to become an astronaut: “Sounds dangerous … count me in!”