When I was ten I wanted to be an archaeologist. I’m not sure if it was the idea of climbing through ancient ruins or the thought of making a world-shaking discovery that became my carrot; whichever it was, it didn’t happen. Instead I fell in love with words and went on to become a writer. …
Writing that brings heaven into the room,like a soft breeze ruffling lace curtains. Like the smell of the ocean on a warm summer day…………writing that send us into the best of ourselves answering all our hopes and dreams………….
Three paragraphs of a piece on the 19th century whaling trade.
“So be cheery, my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bold harpooner is striking the whale.”
old Nantucket song
George Dodge was born with saltwater in his veins. Growing up in Salem, Massachusetts, this son of the sea wandered the wharves, captivated by seamen’s tales of faraway lands. In 1831, he left home and headed for Nantucket, center of the New England whaling trade. On his arrival, he signed onto the whaler Baltic. He would not see home again for nearly four years. …