Farewell to the Bermuda Sun

And then there was one. One newspaper in Bermuda, that is.

When I first arrived there were three. But the global recession, coupled with falling revenues and changes in the way people, especially the young, acquire their news, sadly led to the closure of the weekly Mid Ocean News in 2010, and now the shuttering of the twice-weekly Bermuda Sun.

On Wednesdays and Fridays the routine was pretty much the same. In the morning I'd pick up a copy of the Bermuda Sun and retire for an hour to a comfortable seat, either outside on the patio enjoying the fresh air or, if it was too hot or too breezy, then indoors on the sofa in the lounge or in the quiet sanctuary of the den.

And there I'd sit and read the latest news from 'the competition'. It was always a treat, a small block of time when all other distractions were ushered from the mind to allow undivided attention to be given to the newspaper at hand, with coffee and chocolate chip cookie in the other.

Oh, the chocolate chip cookie. Well yes, a rare indulgence that always accompanied the ritual of flicking through the newspaper where I'd particularly enjoy the more offbeat, community-driven news, together with a raft of social opinions and commentary acting as a window on the patchwork of differing views and issues of the day.

When news broke that the Bermuda Sun was to close, it was sudden. The farewell edition of the 50-year-old newspaper rolled off the presses just a few days later.

Now, less than two weeks later, I am missing those twice-a-week relaxing mornings when I could quietly sip coffee, munch on a reward cookie and read what the island's other newspaper voice had to say. That voice is now silent.

Often, it is only when something we had taken for granted is gone that we truly appreciate what it meant to us and the pleasure it brought. The Bermuda Sun has set. My thoughts go out to those who lost their jobs. I salute all who worked there and did so much to make it an eagerly anticipated treat to read.

Why I won't be running far, or fast, in the summer heat

When each and every mile takes a minute longer than usual on a training run, that's a sure sign something is very much amiss. But not seeing such a dramatic freefall in performance at this time of year would actually be more concerning. Now that may appear like backwards logic, but stay with me.

Running becomes next to impossible in Bermuda during the height of summer. It is little wonder all competitive racing stops in July and August, and there is a considerable tapering of events in the months either side of the mid-summer hiatus.

With July temperatures hovering around the 29C to 30C range (around 87F) daily, and humidity upwards of 70 percent most days, simply staying hydrated can be a challenge without throwing outdoor exercise, particularly running, into the equation.

No racing is one thing, but that leaves the problem of how to maintain fitness and 'tick over' in the oppressive conditions until the cooler months return.

The key indicator each day, over and above the temperature and humidity, is the 'real feel'. This is what the outdoor conditions actually feel like when the air temperature, humidity, sunshine and breeze are all taken into consideration. So far this month that telltale indicator has landed daily round the 34C mark - and that is cause for caution and commonsense.

As the summer heat arrived I had happily trained without paying much notice of the 'real feel' figure creeping up. Then, in the final days of last month, it hit me. I'd already scaled back long runs to a more manageable 10 miles, given the rising heat. But even that proved to be a goal too far, as I discovered halfway into one Sunday long run. All seemed fine until I began slowing noticeably having run only five-and-a-half miles. That shouldn't have been happening. But I recognised the warning signs and quickly figured out the most direct, least hilly, route back home. Even so, it was a case of alternate running and walking on those few miles of retreat.

When the same thing happened four days later I knew it was time to limit all long run expeditions to no more than an hour, or thereabouts. My other sessions were limited to 45 minutes or less, and even these workouts up and down the dusty trailway, overlooking the tranquil waters of the north shore, became a battle of mind over matter simply to keep going at a pace that was a minute-a-mile slower than seven or eight weeks previously.

Mind over matter only goes so far. The body has built-in failsafes aimed at ensuring it doesn't overheat. When the 'real feel' conditions are 34C or 35C there is barely wriggle room for any exercise before the body's core temperature of 37C is placed in jeopardy. Raising the core temperature above its normal range by more than a few degrees for any extended period can lead to the body literally getting cooked from the inside out. Hence the body's natural reaction to cause you to slow your pace to a level where the transfer of heat, through blood being pumped to the skin's sweat glands - allowing heat to be dissipated through sweat, is kept at a manageable equilibrium. However, this cooling process is not nearly so effective when high humidity prevents sweat from evaporating.

Which brings me back to the days of 70 percent plus humidity and 'real feel' figures of 34C (and above on some days) that are the norm for the summer.

It may not appear rewarding writing down paltry mileage and somewhat laughable times in the training diary, but the steamroller heat of summer demands no heroics, just commonsense.

However, there are rewards, and none more delicious than an ice cold drink from the refrigerator at the end of run.

A useful writing tip

A writer can often become so closely involved in their work that they forgot to step back and take in the bigger picture. An analogy would be a painter or artist engrossed in the details of their latest piece failing to take a few backward steps from the canvas to view the totality of their endeavour.

A writer who doesn't take those metaphorical backward steps to view the bigger picture is missing out on an element of the creative process worth its weight in gold.

I'm currently putting the finishing touches to an expanded version of Dolphin Girl, including an ending that continues beyond that of the original short novel featured in 2008's Eating Clouds.

At the same time I've come up with a blurb to feature on the back of the book. A blurb is the few paragraphs on the back cover that effectively 'sell' the story to a reader. An effective blurb entices and intrigues a potential reader, but equally importantly accurately reflects what the book, and its story, offer.

A reader will soon become disgruntled if they don't find what they expected to find as a result of the blurb. Worse case scenario, a colossal asteroid slams into the Earth. Second worse case scenario, the reader feels conned by the misleading blurb and in future avoids your books.

Dolphin Girl was included at the back of the original Lulu version of Eating Clouds and so never had it own blurb. Now that it is to be a stand-alone novel, it does. That has entailed some contemplation of what exactly the story is about. And as I have gone through this process, and it can take quite a few hours, it has brought clarity into my mind about what the story sets out to portray. In doing so, it has prompted ideas on how to streamline and better highlight the overarching themes.

As I go through the book, tweaking and reordering a few things and adding some new scenes, the process has been made easier knowing exactly what needs to be achieved through the characters and events.

A well-crafted blurb can be a hugely useful blueprint or roadmap to guide a writer through the story arc they are creating.

I've come to the blurb very close to the end of the story-writing process for Dolphin Girl, but I can certainly see the value in having such a guide earlier in the day, perhaps even at the outset.

And, if you want to supercharge the whole thing, pull yourself away from the story-writing and compose both a blurb and a half-page synopsis. A synopsis is a more structured and detailed blueprint of the story.

With a blurb and a synopsis in hand a writer can confidently set forth to tell a tale and avoid getting snagged, and perhaps even lost, in the undergrowth that hides in the woods and forest of the imagination.

Hey director, leave those films alone

They're great movies. Classics of their era. So why did the directors who made these masterpieces decide to tweak and alter them 20 or 30 years later?

If the changes had made the movies better I'd understand, but in the case of the original 'Star Wars' trilogy and the gritty, 1979 cut of 'The Warriors', the subsequent re-imaging has resulted in far inferior viewing experiences.

I have great admiration for both George Lucas ('Star Wars'), pictured below, and Walter Hill ('The Warriors'), two exceptional talents. But I'm mystified by their motivation for tinkering with some of their best work to make director's cuts that are best consigned to the nearest trash can in favour of the originals.

Many others have commented on these director's cut, take a look around on the internet and YouTube to see what has been said. In the case of the original 'Star Wars' trilogy the changes are mostly computer generated animations splashed across the screen that alter the tone of the movies and, quite frankly, clutter up the clarity of the stories. With Hill's director's cut of 'The Warriors' the inclusion of cartoon-cutsy transitions between scenes completely jars with the compelling realism and darkness of the 1979 version.

Sure, there is a place for revisiting creative works and improving upon them. My favourite poet William Butler Yeats did so with great success, and the evolution of the song 'Saints and Angels' by the music group The Waterboys, from its mid-1980s original to its early 2000s incarnation, with notably developed lyrics, are testament to how artistic works can rise to a new level when reworked by their original creators.

Returning to movies I would add Ridley Scott's director's cut of 'Blade Runner' to the list of artistic works enhanced by a slight re-imaging.

The big danger comes when the re-working is done on a creative work that has already proven to be massively popular in its original format. Anyone who tinkers with such is doing so at great peril.

Of course, you pays your money and you takes your choice. Except in the case of 'Star Wars' and 'The Warriors' you can't. If Lucas and Hill are saying, 'Hey, this is what I intended the movie to be originally' and leave the viewer with the option of watching the original or their re-worked alternative, then fine. Alas, that is not the case. It is practically impossible to lay your hands on unaltered versions of the original 'Star Wars' trilogy, likewise copies of the 1979 original of 'The Warriors' are no longer produced, having been superseded by the director's cut. Both directors have taken a deliberate and strong line, arguing that their director's cuts are the definitive versions and the originals should be removed permanently from public consumption.

The first 'Star Wars' movie, released in 1977, is unquestionably one of the biggest landmark cinematic releases of the 20th century. Yet today the public are unable to purchase or view this iconic film in its original, un-tweaked glory.

Similarly, if you want to see 'The Warriors' as it appeared in 1979 you'll have to scour second-hand shops or online sales sites to get one of the pre-director's cut releases. It's becoming scarcer, but it's worth the effort.

So what can be done? Ultimately, it boils down to a simple request. To slightly misquote the lyrics of a Pink Floyd song, 'Hey director, leave those films alone'.

Giving thanks to old friends

This is one of my favourite college days photographs. It was taken 19 years ago at LA Pierce College and shows myself and nine fellow students from England's Barnsley College who studied at the California institution for a semester.

I came across it today. It was one of the images I scanned from an old negative. For an hour or so I worked my way through a dozen negatives, turning them into digital files. I was doing this both for prosperity and to make it easier to save them in places where they will, hopefully, never be lost.

So it was saving history in a way, although more a personal history than anything of historic value to the wider world. But important to me.

These old pictures remind me of the younger version of myself, and of those I shared those far-flung days with. We were a tight-knit group. We studied at Barnsley College and so knew one another from classes there and from socialising. When we were chosen as the group of ten to pioneer a link-up with the Los Angeles college, we became closer still. Our lodgings were two adjacent apartments at a nearby university complex, so in a way it was our own mini-fraternity set-up, or as close as ten UK students would ever get to one.

This picture was taken on the football field at the college, and we are smiling and relaxed. That's what I like most. It instantly brings back emotions and feelings from that day, and from those months under the California sun.

I believe I may have said this before, but when I gaze upon these pictures I am overcome by a desire to be able to step into them and live the moment again. Or to be a casual observer walking up to the group to meet them.

Would it be that time could twist or rabbit-hole in such a way to make that possible. A flight of fancy, I know.

I look upon the younger me, and the younger others, and I consider myself fortunate to have experienced those moments.

Time moves quickly and it can be all too easy to forget to stop and appreciate what we have here and now. Then, one day, we end up looking at pictures that are 19 years old and only then truly appreciate those friendships and experiences. Life is, indeed, what happens to you while you are busy making other plans.

As I look at my college friends I remember Beryl, who is no longer here, and I honour her endearing friendship. To the others, I wish them well wherever they are.

Take the time today to look around at all that you are doing, and all the friends in your life and give thanks. For before you know it they will be fondly recalled images in the scrapbook of your life.

A weekend with astronauts

The world's two most senior surviving moonwalkers, Buzz Aldrin and Alan Bean, the second and fourth men respectively to walk on the surface of the moon, were the big names from the Apollo lunar landings who came to London for the Autographica event in March.

Four crew members from various space shuttle missions were among other guests at the event a mile from Heathrow airport. It made for an interesting gathering in which stories about the Nasa space programme were recollected by those who had actually taken part in the missions.

At the Saturday evening formal dinner Aldrin was seated at the adjacent table. He got up to give a short talk on the future of space exploration, the start of his talk is featured in the video above.

Aldrin went on to speak about his vision for the colonisation of Mars, and he likened it to the pilgrim fathers aboard the Mayflower sailing ship in 1620 who left England and reached what is present day Plymouth, in Massachusetts, to establish the second English settlement in North America. Just as they had not waited to get a ship back to England, so the eventual first colonisers of Mars will not seek a return journey to Earth, Aldrin predicted.

Looking back over almost 50 years since the lunar landing programme it is important to remember that such great achievements were made with technology that would be labelled archaic in today's world, and how astronauts in that earlier era completed missions that would, in all likelihood have been aborted nowadays.

We were reminded of this during the course of the weekend as stories were told. Space Shuttle astronaut Bruce McCandless, who also speaks in the above video, was working at mission control during the Apollo programme and was one of the key contacts for Apollo XI astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin during their landmark first landing on the moon.

At Saturday evening's dinner McCandless recounted the launch of the follow-up Apollo XII mission, which included among the crew fellow guest Alan Bean. As the Saturn V rocket soared upwards through the Earth's atmosphere it was hit by either lightning or a self-induced electrical discharge. "They lost all power to the command module," said McCandless. "The computer in the Saturn V redundant for the very first time, so they switched over to the back-up computer and they kept on flying. It was Alan Bean who painstakingly restored power to the command module, brought the fuel cells back online and shortly thereafter they made it successfully into orbit, aligned the platform, got a go to proceed to the moon and had a very successful mission.

"And I think that in today's environment we have probably become so risk adverse that had we had a similar incident with the shuttle we would have insisted on immediately terminating the mission and coming home. It's a real tribute to Alan and Pete Conrad and Dick Gordon that they were able to salvage the mission even after a near catastrophe like this."

On the earlier Apollo XI mission that ultimately put Armstrong and Aldrin on the moon's surface there were a few touch-and-go moments. As Armstrong piloted the lunar module towards the moon's surface and its designated landing site it became increasingly clear that the chosen site was strewn with more rocks and boulders than had been anticipated.

Armstrong skillfully avoided the unfavourable terrain and headed for a smoother area in the Sea of Tranquility, however an alarm was activated inside the landing module indicating a critically low level of propellent to fly the craft. The two astronauts held their nerve and despite having an apparently depleted propellent tank continued to the favoured landing spot. The Eagle landed and Armstrong and Aldrin made their historic moonwalks on July 20, 1969.

It was later discovered the module had slightly more landing propellent than the indicator had registered, an estimated 30 to 45 seconds' worth. The 'sloshing' of the propellent inside the tank had resulted in the premature activation of the alarm. It was a fault that would be remedied after the follow-up Apollo XII mission a few months later.

At 84, Aldrin is remarkably active and sprightly. His popularity at the event was evident as he signed autographs and posed for pictures, never appearing overwhelmed or tired. He used a selection of felt-tipped pens to sign autographs, something that was instructive of another incident on that maiden moon landing.

After returning to the lunar module having walked on the moon's surface, Aldrin and Armstrong faced a potential hazard that placed a question mark over whether they would be able to lift off to rejoin Columbia, the lunar orbiter being piloted by Michael Collins, and head back to Earth. Aldrin noticed a broken circuit switch on the floor of the module. It was the switch that was needed to activate the ascent engine to lift off from the moon. Mission control was informed of the problem. After a short sleep, and with no solution forthcoming from mission control, Aldrin took a felt-tipped pen from a pocket on his spacesuit and placed it into the opening where the broken switch should have been. The pen fitted and worked as a makeshift circuit-breaker allowing the module to lift off.

Of all the lectures given by the guests during the weekend Alan Bean, the fourth man to walk on the moon, was the best attended. Indeed, the organisers noted it was a bigger lecture audience than they had seen at any of the previous 19 Autographica events. Bean described how he had gone on to forge a career as an artist, painting space mission scenes and striving for accuracy, which brought him to a story about his painting of Neil Armstrong on the moon.

The painting was among those exhibited at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, Washington DC, in 2009 to mark the 40th anniversary of the moon landings. In attendance were many Apollo mission veterans, including Armstrong. One of the guests studied Bean's painting and spotted Armstrong was portrayed wearing a wristwatch. The guest wasn't convinced that Armstrong had worn his watch on the moon's surface and said so to Bean, who was caught off guard by the observation and wondered if he had got the detail wrong. Bean suggested the guest go and find Armstrong, who was elsewhere in the museum, and ask him if he had been wearing a watch.

It should be pointed out here that there are very few photographs of Armstrong on the moon because he was the one issued with the camera during the mission. As a result most of the iconic moon landing photos show colleague Aldrin on the surface. There is one full-body picture of Armstrong on the moon, however, he has his back to the camera and it is not clear if he is wearing his watch or not.

The inquiring guest tracked down Armstrong and asked him about Bean's painting and whether or not he had worn a wristwatch on the moon's surface. Armstrong said, "Has Alan painted me wearing one?" The reply was "Yes," to which Armstrong responded, "Well, that's how it was." It was a good answer, but it wasn't how it had been on the moon. In reality Armstrong had taken off his watch and left it inside the lunar module as a back-up because the onboard mission timer was not working. Many months later, having researched the facts himself, Bean painted out the watch from the portrait.

At the Saturday evening dinner five-times astronaut and space shuttle commander Robert 'Hoot' Gibson was at the same table as Heather and I. He happily talked about his experiences and answered questions. I asked what it was like to experience the fiery descent back through the atmosphere on the return to Earth. He described the glowing flames that filled the view outside the windows, and how the crew prepared for the increasing heat inside the shuttle by reducing the interior temperature considerably in the two hours immediately prior to re-entry.

Hurtling back to Earth at Mach 25 (that's 25 times the speed of sound) also meant a great deal of braking and slowing was required to execute a safe, unpowered landing. 'Hoot' explained how, as the shuttle decelerated from supersonic speeds to subsonic (going below Mach 1, or 760 miles per hour), the sonic shock wave trailing the craft caught up and, starting from the rear of the shuttle, moved through the fuselage and up to the front where the flight deck cabin would momentarily shake and vibrate.

'Hoot' is a talented photographer and took some stunning pictures of fellow shuttle astronaut Bruce McCandless during his historic, first untethered space walk in 1984. 'Hoot' and his wife Rhea Seddon, another shuttle astronaut, were both at the Autographica event and gave joint lectures about their space missions, which included a selection of family photos taken by 'Hoot' of their youngest child standing in the desert at the Edwards Air Force Base, California, watching as a space shuttle, with his mother a crew member onboard, came in to land.

All in all it was a far more interesting and enjoyable weekend than I had anticipated, from the excitement of seeing Buzz Aldrin for the first time as he stood on a light bridge in the hotel's atrium at a low-key pre-event drinks reception, where he spoke to a number of attendees, to the moment a few days later when an excited dad was speaking to his son overseas via a video link on a tablet device and asked Aldrin, who was walking past, if he would greet his son. Aldrin obliged with a salute into the tablet's webcam.

Shaking hands with Aldrin was a personal highlight, as was dinner in the company of 'Hoot' Gibson. But there were plenty of memorable offbeat moments, such as astronaut Bruce McCandless light-heartedly noting during the dinner event that if NASA had had someone with as much glamour as 'Space 1999' actress Barbara Bain as a real life astronaut (Ms Bain was one of the weekend guests) there probably would not have been any space programme funding cutbacks.

Ms Bain was one of a number of stars from film and TV among the event guests. As Buzz Aldrin spoke at the dinner, listening from tables a little further back in the room were 'Star Wars' actors Dave Prowse (Darth Vader) and Kenny Baker (R2D2).

Of the movie and TV guests I hope to write more. For now I end with a salute to the astronauts who attended the London gathering; Buzz Aldrin, Alan Bean, Robert 'Hoot' Gibson, Bruce McCandless, Rhea Seddon and Greg H Johnson.

'The Magic Lake' from 26 years ago

Although I have to pinch myself to fully believe so much time has elapsed, it is 26 years since this small excerpt from a planned novel I was working on found its way into a small science fiction and fantasy fanzine in West Australia.

At the time I was breaking loose and exploring the world - or more accurately the vast island continent of Australia - as a backpacking 21-year-old. It was early 1988 and the previous year I had put together the short-run paperback Inspired, featuring a selection of five writers and poets of which I was one.

As I travelled through West Australia I'd planned to complete a fantasy novel and in the first few months did some work towards that goal. When I came across a small fanzine called WAFTAM, with a unicorn on the cover, I recognised a moment of serendipity as my work-in-progress novel was centered around unicorns. I sent a short contribution to the publication.

The fanzine editor duly published my work in the next edition of the fanzine, which was also renamed WOFTAM. Although this writing project never fully matured, here for posterity is a snapshot of my writing from 26 years ago, as published in issue one of the WOFTAM fanzine, in Perth, West Australia in March 1988:

THE MAGIC LAKE

Jarrad looked up to see the rain clouds had parted and a full moon was shining brightly in the night sky. However, what was even stranger were the horses. He noticed they were all outside the cave, standing perfectly still and silent. Their gaze seemed to be fixed distantly on the lake, as was Melinda's. The strange harp-like music, although still distant, was much more noticeable.

"What is it?" he asked, bewildered.

"Look at the lake," Melinda pointed. "Do you see the moon's reflection?"

"Yes, what about it ... Hey! It's moving, and it's changing shape," Jarrad checked himself and looked back up at the moon. Indeed, the moon had not changed. It was still the same uniform circle of brightness, unobscured by any night clouds.

That being so, thought Jarrad, then the reflection on the lake should also be a clear, circular patch of light. He looked back at the lake. It wasn't.

Jarrad was thinking up his next question when Breeze, the king's fair-haired daughter answered it.

"A unicorn," she spoke in a hushed tone. "It's a unicorn."

Jarrad blinked, looking once more at the blurry ball of light which seemed to be skating across the lake's surface. Indeed, now that he came to think about it, it did resemble a unicorn.

"A real unicorn?" he blurted out. Melinda turned, a dreamy contentment etched on her face.

"The horses believe it to be real. That is why they stand so silently, with such reverence. The night owls are silent now. All the other nocturnal animals are quiet. They can all hear the music, and all see the unicorn on the lake," she said. She smiled at Jarrad, then turned again to the lake. "But it is not a real unicorn, unfortunately. It is merely an illusion created by the magic lake. The magic which tonight's full moon has activated."