I sent a copy of "Coasting" to a contemporary of mine who was at sea, on different ships to me, in 1975. He rang me yesterday and spent almost an hour on the phone telling me how exactly I'd captured the era and how much he'd enjoyed the story. "I felt I was sitting there watching it happen,"he said. "I remember the ship you based the Dargo on and the number of times I cursed that damned control air system."
We chuckled together about remembered incidents at the "Breckie Creek" hotel and at "Cleo's" in Fremantle, reliving our relative youth in its more madcap moments.
When the call ended, I sat for some time, grinning my pleasure at the compliments he'd paid me in enjoying the book so much and thinking it so true.
It was what I'd set out to do in 1972.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Saturday, August 04, 2012
The Coasting Contest is live at Coffee Time Romance
The following excerpt doesn't have the answers, but you might enjoy it anyway.
Doug’s mind
wandered. His snatches of sleep since the boiler failed were not enough
and tiredness was a leaden weight on his shoulders. He'd husbanded the others as
much as he could but there’d always been something urgent he had to do
immediately.
Things had steadied
now. Around him, everyone did their jobs and his focus drifted. It would be
tempting to find a seat somewhere and sit for a while.
He reacted
slowly to Taff’s sudden movement and incoherent shout. It was not till the
man’s hand closed on the live bar that he shouted, “No, Taff, don’t!”
It was too late.
The alternating current constricted the tendons and Taff’s hand locked itself
around the bar. He gave a weird wavering wail and appeared to dance a jig about
the bar. Doug caught the whiff of burning flesh and it galvanized him into
action. He took two running steps and swung his right foot in a mighty kick to
break Taff’s deadly grip.
The
jolt of the current wiped out his mind before he knew if he’d succeeded
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