Back to it.

My life has hit its usual stride again of 9am starts, working through the day and finishing, tired but happy, at 5pm. Despite the workload, It’s great to be doing something you love, and I wouldn’t change it for quids. Had a friend who worked for the Water Board, who just hated her job, but felt trapped and couldn’t leave. Thus, every day, when I’m dragging my complaining body out of bed, and looking for the coffee plunger, I’ve still got a little smile on my face knowing I’m one of the lucky ones.

Nearly finished the recording stage of the CD and about to enter the final mastering. Songlist has been decided upon, and it’s looking good. It’s been an interesting process this doing a CD of myself. Usually when I do this, it’s for other people, so having control over the entire creative process has been different. I’ve been able to be less controlled and more thoughtful. To an extent. In some ways, that’s been a good thing. I think the CD is going to be more artistic than I’ve produced before. Though it’s also been harder to be objective about it. I find myself having to leave a track and coming back to it in a day or so. That level of deep involvement is something I’ve been able to avoid as a producer before. Though it’s hardly surprising really, being the featured artist and producer this time.

Thus, I received a healthy amount of inspiration last night when I went to hear Maceo Parker at the Basement along with Mike Berry and Andy Gatfield. Wow. These guys can really play. Nice big band, three horns, four rhythm. One thing that struck me was the absolute commitment Maceo showed on his horn. He played the note and bam! it was there. The trombonist too (Fred Wesley? Looked kind of young though). How many times can you honestly say you’ve heard a really good trombonist? (Ok, ok, Mike Paulsen, but apart from him.) They’re rare. So when you get someone like this guy, it’s so refreshing and exhilarating. Maceo and this guy just sent shivers down my spine. Terrific to have a musical experience like that.

The last month

I can’t believe it’s more than a month since my last entry. Incredible.

Since I last wrote, I’ve flown home from Buenos Aires (what a flight... 41 hours in the air!) I was home for about a week, then picked up the car from the folks, picked up John Taylor, and drove eleven hours north to Brisbane.

Since then I’ve spent almost all my time working on The Letter, a musical produced by Chloe Dallimore. It’s come together well, despite a few hiccups, and shows every sign of doing really well. We were in the society pages on the weekend, and have a review coming out tomorrow. The photo above is of the band, from left JT, me and Owen Newcomb on bass.
In my spare time, I’ve been working on the new CD. Decided to go with This IS my day job, a title suggested by the wonderful Tammy Mehlhaff. Bits and pieces have already started appearing on the website, so have a look around.

A week on the west coast

Well, the last few days have provided some terrific photographic opportunities. Went to Puerto Varas on Wednesday, and , of course, took the boys to Olla. The lake was calm as calm could be, allowing for some great pics. The kind that just scream “South America.”


Then in Puerto Chachabu, which we immediately christened Puerto Chewbacca. Took the best photo of my shipping career (see below)



If you’ve worked on a cruise ship, you’ll get it. I suspect that this diary will end up being half photojournal as well, which is fine with me. :)

However, as I stood up on Deck 8 watching the sun paint the sky yarning in a half-arsed kind of way with Russ, I realised that there are things I am going to miss about ships. One is being in these outrageous places. I’ve been on (or at least within thirty feet) of all seven continents, something few people achieve in their lifetimes. Must be close to seventy countries around the world. I will miss the travel.

Also, I’ll miss the boys. Usually, as Jim Storey pointed out on the Golden Princess, on the ships you make these very close relationships in a short period of time, and then you never see the guys again. You might get occasional emails, and catch up if they happen to come to your home port. But for some reason, Regent has the ability to forge a much stronger friendship. The friendships I’ve built with (in particular) Bob, Cade and Phil are very binding ones. They’re sad to see me go (well, the remaining ones). Also terrified that the replacement pianist will suck. It’s a weird feeling this being torn by wanting the good aspects of the past few months to continue, but knowing it can’t, and moving on to bigger and better things. I wonder if Phil feels like that.

We’ve got the bass player for The Letter. Chappie named Andrew Johnson, who comes very highly recommended. There’s going to be some serious work ahead of me, but also some great times. Very different to life on ships. I’m concerned that I need to find work, but, truth be told, am confident I’ll somehow make it work. I have more than enough arranging work to tide me over.

Fogbound at Calleo

Woken up this morning to the sound of bells ringing. Nothing to do with Quasimodo though. We were stranded off Callao harbour. It was very interesting and haunting to stand on the fo’c’sle and listen to the sounds of the foghorns from the various ships sounding like large prehistoric bovine creatures calling to each other across the still and largely unseen water. Eventually, the port authorities relented, and let us make our way gingerly across the misty water to dock at Callao.

Passengers were let off at about 11, though I, myself, have port manning, though I may get out this evening. Callao isn’t really my idea of a good time. I like South America very much, but possibly Peru isn’t my most liked country. That privilege would go to Argentina closely followed by Chile.

The last few days have been ordinary South America ones. Manta on the 12th, where I got off with Bob and Cade, and Sebastian, the lighting operator. Sebastian turned out to be a thoroughly nice chap, and very good company. Salaverry thoroughly lived up to my Peruvian expectations, as a bit of a shithole. Bob, Cade, Bram Glick and I wandered around, had some extremely ordinary chicken. (To Cade’s disappointment, the Inca Cola was warm).

The company has supplied my flight details. Little disappointed. Not only do I leave before I wanted (would have liked to have one final night in Buenos Aires with the boys, but instead I’m leaving at 12.05am on the 5th), but it’s $300 more than Princess charged me last year for the same flight, it’s on my least favourite airlines (American and United), and I have a 12 hour layover in LAX. Oh well. I’ll get a hotel and pamper myself a bit I think. Decided on the Hacienda as very close, and seems very good.

The merry band of miscreants

Terrific news today. Got an email from my good friend and drummer extraordinaire, John Taylor. He’s consented to play drums in The Letter. Now all I need to do is find a bass player. Due to the time the show’s set (1930s) it will have to be an upright.

So pleased to be working with John again. The photo’s from when I was briefly in Hong Kong in 2005. John was working at a 60s themed bar called The Cavern. The good-looking bird in the middle is John’s wife Linden.

Oddly, in one of those six-degrees thing, one of Chloe’s best friends is John’s brother’s partner, Caroline. She knows Mark well, and is very pleased his brother’s going to be drumming for us.
I’m very pleased about it. It’s always better to have musicians you know and trust than someone you don’t. Even better if they’re musicians you like as well.

Cue drum roll

I’ve sent an email off to the bosses at Regent, so now I feel I can talk about the new job.
I’ve been offered a role of Musical Director for a new musical in Brisbane. It’s three week’s run, but I’m told it will have a longer life than that. One of the stars will be my friend Chloë Dallimore. It’s all terribly exciting, and I’m looking forward to it.

However, it does mean I have to leave the Mariner about a month early. I’m sure Lyn and Justin will be understanding, but it’s still a bit awkward. Phil leaving yesterday. And Russel, the bass player, managed to cut open his finger the other day, and was medically disembarked for ten days. So it’s not the best time to be resigning, even on a month’s notice.
Still, at least it’s for something really good. Amazingly good in fact. Wahey!

The second day of the best year of my life was, truth to tell, not all that great.

Vale Phil.

I can’t and don’t want to go into too many details, but the sad truth is Phil is leaving the employ of the company. It’s significantly earlier than expected. He’s become one my closest friends, and is one of the finest saxophonists and one of the finest men I’ve ever met. My plans to include him on Standard Shift are now in tatters. Bugger bugger bugger! Though his plans are even more in tatters.

Ironically, we had one of the best days of the contract yesterday. We went out in Cartegena, Columbia, found someone to take us around. It’s a gorgeous town.



Really has that Central American beauty about it. It seemed to me to be like a less commercial Saint Thomas (the island... not the saint). It was just Phil and I. Because 2008 is (was?) looking to be such a good year for both of us, we were very happy to be out and having a good time. We wandered around the city centre, had a great (if expensive) meal, toasted 2008 as the best year of our lives.

Still, looking at the positive side of things, I still believe 2008 is going to be a good year for Phil. He’s moving to Brazil to be with Julia, and starting a new life there. He’ll be ok. I’m just upset that I have to say goodbye weeks earlier than I thought I would have to.