UP early, as always. Sunrise found me splitting wood with an ax to feed the day’s fire.
In recent days, I’ve been trying to get things in order here before the advent of the imminent whup ass. Most I won’t get to, I’m sure. I need to knock a couple of new bearings into the blade arbor on my table saw, ’cause the saw’s going to Vermont first thing in the spring. I’ve got a couple of lifts of salvaged redwood to mill into boards with two straight edges.
On the reading front, the usual three or four books going at once. I’m reading Twain this week, and Michael Ondaatje, and P.G. Wodehouse. As I promised—seem to think I promised?—I’ll plan to write something about the Phantom origin myth one of these days soon. It’s being published as we speak on this day 3 of 12.
To get in the spirit of writing that seaborne adventure, I discovered a Canadian lad whose repertoire includes a cappella sea shanties. He sings the harmony on separate tracks.
If I had the hammers, anvils and stirrups of a competent sailor, I would have disappeared on ships out of the port of Philadelphia half a century ago. It’s been my good fortune that I don’t! I’m grateful for the life my landlubberdom landed me.
Here are a few of the tracks I like most. (Hopefully these clips don’t open with ads on your screen. My AdBlock buries them here.)
You might remember this one from Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. I sent it to my buddy Chuck Burghardt a few weeks ago. He’s a great fan of Patrick O’Brian’s novels on the adventures of Captain Jack Aubrey and Dr. Maturin.
No sea here, but a mighty river. Iron piggy and I have spent quite a lot of time up around the headwaters of the Missouri, in Montana. This makes me want to be there.
Finally, this young mom whose recording studio is a stairwell. Her channel has a nice collection of sea shanties.
No shanty this, but a dark tune beautifully rendered by her gift.
Tony DePaul, January 29, 2025, Cranston, Rhode Island, USA
