In Everlasting Memory

Some people leave a mark so deep that the course of a life quietly changes because of them. This page is for two of those people.

My Father

He was many things — an adventurer, an explorer, a writer, and a sailor. But his greatest love was his family.

My love of the water began with him. As a boy I sailed on his yachts on the Vaal Dam and off Cape Town, learning the feel of a boat underfoot long before I ever held a captain's ticket. Years later, when I was searching for the next chapter, it was a conversation with him that first gave me the idea. That single conversation set a new direction in motion. My visit to the lagoon made me realise what I was missing and what I could build. We spoke about it often, and his wisdom helped me immensely. That idea eventually became Captain Murray's – The Uncharted Waters.

My father's love of words left its mark on me too. He often recited two passages that stayed with him:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
— Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám

Such things there are to write, if only one could write them. Gay moods and moth-like meditations hover through your imagination, fluttering their painted wings, but always the rarest, those tinted with the greatest azure, flutter away beyond your reach.
— Virginia Woolf, "The Patron and the Crocus"

He gave me the sea, the wandering lust to see new horizons, and later he helped shape the idea for the lagoon. For both of those gifts I remain grateful.

Jason

He was my son. In the short time he was here he left a light that does not go out.

He had struggles, but he overcame them. Everyone he met through life loved him. He wanted to travel, and I think the same wandering lust that lived in me lived in him too. When I spoke of Abidjan and the boats, he wanted to join me and learn. He would have fitted in so easily — their native language was French, and I could have learnt from him as well.

But illness cut his life short. He went over the rainbow bridge and joined his mom and my father.

I will dedicate my time now to building something that carries the Murray name, so they can watch from where they are.

The people who shape us never really leave. They travel with us — in the decisions we make, in the way we treat others, and in the quiet determination to keep going.

This page is for them.

Captain Murray.