Rock Harbor Marine,

Rock Harbour Marine,

525 Basswood Drive,

Nashville, Tennessee 37209

USA

Dear Friends,

Here is a glorious winter sun slowly warming the night’s freezing air. The river has stopped steaming away. I have visions of log fires with the smell of roasted chestnuts but I am content with the aroma of my split pea soup simmering in the pressure cooker. How long has it been since I last wrote to you? We were on our way to Nashville and I lost count of the days since we arrived here. I remember the painful feeling of leaving the ocean so far behind and mourned at the ideas that it would be a while before we saw golden beaches, turquoise and emerald seas again. We are now 800 miles from the sea after having travelled all this distance on river and canal systems. We are now in Rock Harbour Marine on the River Cumberland. It used to be a quarry before they dynamited the place to make it a harbour for small and big motor yachts. There is no provision for sailing yachts as they do not normally choose this location. But as you know we like travelling off the beaten track! We moved to the best berth in the marina where a big gin palace motorboat has just left to evade local taxes.

Nashville is the city of dreams and the music business exploit the dreamers who come by the thousands. It is buzzing with hungry singer-songwriters who would do almost anything for the big break. Many are so obsessed with finding fame that they are willing to write songs to a formula rather than follow their own heart. The Blue Bird Café where hundreds of singer-songwriters queue for hours just to perform a song in front of an audience made me question my musical ambitions. Many of them seem so unhappy chasing the dream. Ambition can be very painful. I promised myself to treat the business as a game and not take it too seriously. I know that I could get very hurt. The whole Nashville music scene seems so artificial. I feel I am in the movies all the time. It can be fun and I get a real buzz at times. We have met some interesting people here from publishers, television and radio personalities, millionaires, doctors, and lately a trappist monk. We heard him being interviewed on the local radio and decided to invite him on board for a meal. This monk spent 17 years in a monastery then decided to go into the real world. Then he met a nun who had also left the religious order and decided to get married. Amazing! Together they are now on a religious crusade to make people aware of the difference between Christianity and Churchianity. They thought that the church was too much of a social club and that people ought to be more spiritually aware.

I amongst the 3,000 hopeful singer-songwriters in Nashville have got a job singing in the floating restaurant in the marina. Whilst singing there I met a chat show host called Allen. He is a fantastic guitarist. When I mentioned that I was looking for a recording studio, he said he knew one and the owner owed him a favour. We spent time rehearsing on Capricorn. Allen is so obese that he cannot squeeze through our wheel-house entrance. Fortunately the weather is good and we practise on deck! He scheduled different times for us to use the recording studio he had arranged. The first time his excuse was that the studio owner’s daughter was rushed to hospital with appendicitis. The second time the bass player planned for the session had a road accident and died. During all this Allen was hosting a show on local Nashville radio and still practising with me on board Capricorn. His last excuse that he could not make it to the studio was that he was robbed at his home at gun point! I did not want to verify his stories. It was enough to make you want to run but he was so credible, likeable and talented. What excuse would he come up with next? I never gave him another chance and it was the last time I saw him.

We made friends with a boat owner in the marina called Jim who owns half of Nasvhille real estate. (I am slightly exaggerating) He is a recovered alcoholic. By now you must be thinking that we really meet some strange people. It seems that a lot of people we meet in Nashville are recovered alcoholics. No wonder country songs can be so sad! But I am writing country songs pouring my heart out with imagined scenarios. “If We Break up I Break Down.”

We now have wheels, an old 1979 Chevrolet that we named “Peggy green”. We bought it for 50 dollars but the insurance is four times the price of the car.

I must end here because I promised the marina staff my special green split pea soup and I wonder by now if they are thinking it was just talk! I do not know whether it is typical of the Bible belt area or it is a general trend amongst Americans. People promise a lot but 90% of the time it is just wishful thinking!

With all our love