On my birthday I got in touch with Mark Malatesta, a former literary bestseller agent and I'm in the process to publish 'The Lion Roared' series books, starting with 'FREEDOM, Conformity is Self-imposed Slavery' and followed by others already written and in the production.
It is Science Fiction about a human baby born through a human mother and genetically engineered by a cat-like alien race that undergoes metamorphosis and turns into a lion by the age of six. With explicit erotic scenes Mark thinks the book has movie potential and other people who read the manuscript said the same, so I think there might be a chance for the book to make it onto the screen.
The first book is on amazon and CreateSpace now and I will be grateful for any of my friends if they would give me feedback on what they think about the story.

Raiatea

These are the students with Sensei Fabien.

Oceanborne Madness???: Hi, my name is Andre

Oceanborne Madness???: Hi, my name is Andre: coming soon...... about me. Here is my professional website ...check it out! My name is André and I would like to invite you to join me o...

MAROONED around the holidays in 2011

Ever read stories about being marooned on land? Well, here is a tale of such an adventure, which at the time is happening in a country known to the world as the United States, where all dreams could come true if you have a job, money and no scruples. It is also the land that is beleaguered by its own people, regulated to an extreme, where the inhabitants put six, (spelled 6) locks on their doors to frustrate B&E artists. Three locked and three open, so when they try to open all six, they will lock the open three. It is a very safe country, I was told, one just has to be very careful and if possible, carry a big gun.  With the holiday season approaching, people have their Christmas presents sniffed by especially trained dogs and members of the bomb squad open the packages. At the airport of a large city on the Pacific coast are more armed personal in uniform, under cover and very stern looking, than travelers, but it is safe. One is allowed to breathe, not too deep, and in a certain way, that will not offend the authorities and does not sound threatening or condescending. During a briefing I overheard a person in charge of some uniformed security guards instructing them how to handle people, and it was very informative.

“You have to be firm with the people and authoritative. Be in charge and don’t apologize. They have to know and follow the rules or they will want to do things that will create problems.”

Surprisingly, he did not display his Swastika.

Standing outside of the terminal, I witnessed a very efficient dealing with an empty cardboard box, about a foot x foot x foot in size. A security guy looked at it, circled it, kicked it, bend over it, (to sniff perhaps) straightened up, readjusted his uniform, kicked the box again, and then talked into his lapel. Within a minute other uniformed men showed up, surrounded the box and ordered it firmly to open up and surrender peacefully. One especially courageous man, about 6’ 3” (190cm) with about 100 extra pounds of natural armor, call it fat, took the initiative and opened the box and removed a very mean looking piece of cardboard, turned it over, sniffed it, examined it from all sides and I expected him to slap handcuffs on it but instead he put it back into the box and arrested the whole box for trespassing, illegal parking and loitering. The vagrant box was then taken into custody and herded into a nearby-parked van. The whole procedure did not take more than ten minutes, an astonishing performance under the circumstances. I think the box must have been abandoned there by some frustrated patron since there are no facilities to put luggage into temporary storage while waiting for a connecting flight, possibly due to the fact of terrorists targeting innocent wardrobes and are intent to blow up sleeping bags, underwear and other assorted items for not converting to some true religion. Understandably this must not happen and I would hate to have my American flag motive underwear to be blown to bits by fanatics.

To be fair, I also had the pleasure to meet some really great folks during my involuntary stay in LA who put their lives on the line to protect people from real threads. An LA bomb squad member Anthony and a customer service personal member Dale have assisted me beyond call of duty and I will value their kindness. These people made the difference in being marooned in an airport, anxiously waiting for the other kinds of authorities to decide my worthiness to return to my vessel in an island group called French Polynesia that has been legally taken over by the power of the gun from the native population.

While I waited for the decision, I pushed a cart with my sparse belongings from my temporary sleeping seats to the bathroom, the coffee shop and the seats along the walls where I plugged my damaged computer into an electric outlet to be able to write this story. The daily trips Down Town to retrieve email messages from my friends and find out another disappointing piece of news, has turned into a pilgrimage, lugging around 25 pounds each packs is wearing down the heartiest and when strangers nod in greeting, one knows, a certain familiarity has been established. The next I know is, they will call me by name and will ask me for a drink or to lend them money.

The new computer I purchased must have been subjected to some rough handling also because the screen has broken and was no longer useable. Filing a claim with Air Canada was a hope to get the computers fixed along with the luggage suitcase. The stickers “FRAGILE” seem to invite some people to test the resistance of the items in question and thus maintain a low level of unemployment in the industry. I believe it is called “Creative Job Maintenance”. Of course, it is a very annoying fact when the owners of those broken items complain and want compensation but hey, job security is a desire most people can’t ignore. This computer was to work as a navigational instrument and has not even been installed with the charts and drivers needed, it was a virgin machine, and it is a shame to see it going down this road. Even the suitcase’ interior plastic liner has been shattered and I wonder what elephant must have stepped on it. Very much to my astonishment, the bottle of maple syrup was still in one piece although it has been to the side where the shattered plastic liner was; Tough Canadian,eh?

 I am now in Fiji but have not been able to continue the blog for a while so some of the blogs will be about the time from December 2011 to December 2012

hi andre

u need 2 learn the computer

Manifestation.

After leaving from Manihi in the Tuamotus, enroute to Tahiti, I stabbed my toe on a block and broke a toe. Nothing new, but painful still. Fixing it with masking tape, intended for use on other things but broken toes, I set sail to Rangiroa in hopes to have someone looking at it. Well, someone looked at it all right, handed me some more masking tape, just what I was looking for, and advised me to take it easy. I would have loved to go snorkeling there as I heard wonderful things about their drift-dives but could not put on fins, for goodness sake, I could not even row the dinghy, and so I became a prisoner aboard Symbiosis. My plan, to arrive in Tahiti just a couple of days after my daughter, had to be canceled. The time I had on my hand now, I used to rearrange the boats inside as I had now more space. The winds inside the atoll blew with about 15 knots and if my toe would not have been broken, I could have rowed the dinghy ashore and send a message to Jeanette about the delay but it did not let off. I waited and when the wind finally eased, I left this lovely place. Once outside the atoll, the winds were coming from the NE, made for a good ride, but I had to hand steer most of the time and it made it impossible to rest. At night it occurred to me, to rig the wind vane and see if it would do the job as it was supposed to and it seemed to hold course and I stretched out on the cockpit seat and closed my eyes. When I opened my eyes an hour later, the trim tab jumped the groove and floated on its pendant like a hooked fish, faithfully in the wake of Symbiosis. The course was steady 360 degrees instead of 215. After resetting the course, installing the trim tab, trimming the vane and relieving myself, I returned to my place and kept an eye on the steering unit for an hour. It held its course. I closed my eyes to rest. Again, awakening about an hour later I found the boats course to be a steady 360 degrees. The trim tab was still in place. The conclusion is; the boat wants to go to the North Pole and just waits for me to close my eyes to change course. I guess it’s a battle of wills.

In the late afternoon I sighted land, Tahiti, and watching it, my thoughts turned to my childhood dreams, when I first heard about Tahiti and how much I wanted to one day see it and live there, how my dreams turned into reality. In the evening I entered the Passe de Taunoa and turned starboard toward an industrial area, winding channel, no lighted markers and almost running into a reef, managed to find an area to set anchor and sleep. There was no one in the area where I anchored and I found out later; it is not allowed to anchor there because it is a shipyard. It makes no difference to a dead-tired sailor, but nevertheless, I weighted the anchor and followed my track out the harbor and into the entrance to Papeete, followed south along the airstrip and ended up in marina Taina. This happened to be in the morning hours before I had any breakfast and to my surprise, there is a voice sounding just like that of my daughter. Poking my head out from the hutch, there is Jeanette in the flesh, in a dinghy with a fellow names Mike from a boat called “This side up” I saw first time in Hiva Oa.
They hooked up and Irma, my ex-partner, will sail with him to New Zealand while Jeanette will be with them for a while in this area until she returns to Canada, unless a shark will get to her before she can make her escape.
So, here I am, without crew, no computer I can use to navigate with and no paper charts from the area other than small scale, lots of detail but useless for longer passages.
A very good friend has sent me some money to prevent me from eating my socks, (I run out of shoes) and now as I’m getting popular doing massages, I am able to buy some delicacies like bread and butter and food for my and Irma’s cat. In case I find a boat to sail to the mainland, I will leave my boat here for a few weeks while getting my account reactivated in Canada and then return.
Ah, the adventures one has when one has decided to be free.

Shark encounter

Moorea is just 15 nm downwind or leeward, as we sailors
would say, some may say it is west, but hey, it’s the same in
the end. From Tahiti it was just another Island and it has
been luring me to go there since Mexico and for more than a
week I looked at it, thinking of it as my new home, and it
seem to get closer to that reality, as the German embassy is
working to get my German Passport and perhaps even the
Hungarian too. I’ve been told because I did not file a request
to cancel my citizenship when I became Canadian, I still
have it. That, indeed, is great news and will make living in
Fr. Pol. possible.
Looking at Moorea for this long time, without money, no
work, except for the two massages, I set sail to the Island of
my dreams with a Dutch friend, Erick, and with little wind an
a lot of motor, we made the trip in 3 hours. Sailing into Cook
Bay is easy and the edges of the reef are well marked, with
a leading line and range lights, anybody could do it. Erick is
good crew and we set anchor in 12 meter water close to the
Bali Hai hotel, next to another known character, Bruce on
S/V Loki, named after a Norse God of mischief. Erick and I
went ashore to do some internet and I found a mail from my
daughter, demanding in a thinly veiled tone to make sure I
will deliver her jacket she forgot on my boat and find out if
indeed my ex-girlfriends cat could be taken on a plane to
Canada. Oh, how I will miss that cat.
I replied to her letter and then went to watch a much more
pleasant show on DVD about people in jail being beaten and
abused.
On Sunday we decided to see some sharks and swim with
them and some Stingrays, sliding up our legs and letting us
pet them. I managed to touch a shark with my hand and its
skin felt like sandpaper and it bolted off like a stung cat.
There were about 10-15 all around us from about 5’-15’
(1.5-3.0m) big and it was not a bit dangerous as some
stupid movies would have you believe. I dove with
hammerhead sharks in the Galapagos and nothing happened
there either. There is a possibility, sharks want to clean their
reputation and present themselves from their best sides or
they just eat tourists, in which case I admire their choice of
selectivity. They certainly taste better after the sharks
scared the crap out of them. I’m sure Hannibal Leckter
would agree.
The Stingrays were as big as a kitchen table and when they
touched, it was like gentle hands were caressing the body.
This brings to mind a question, I wont say from whom, if
fish have teeth, and from my observations I can say: most
living beings, especially the bigger ones, most certainly have
teeth, with the exception of hockey players perhaps, and if
they decide to eat you, they will use them, unless somehow
they learned to manage knife and fork.
Then I met a pro kite surfer by the name of Tamataro who’s
got to be the worlds best kite surfer. He is the one who
surfed over the Golden Gate Bridge in SF. Now, that’s
awesome. I am looking forward to learn this kind of surfing
and take lessons from him when I got settled here.