My 80’s Journey

First Flight, Endless Freedom

Picture me, heart pounding, stepping for the first time onto a Singapore Airlines Boeing 747 bound for Singapore. That rush—leaving, tasting freedom, buzzing with what lay ahead—never faded, even after countless flights. For one year, every day was a new adventure. Singapore, our three-day stopover, hit me like a tropical fever. Staying at the iconic Raffles Hotel was unreal. Then, we jetted to New Zealand, landing in Auckland before hopping to Nelson on the South Island to crash with my brother and his wife, who’d emigrated years earlier.  

New Zealand to the Pacific

We bought a Ford Falcon station wagon and roamed both islands for six months. During a boat talk in the marina of Auckland we were invited to go sailing for an afternoon. During that wonderful sailing afternoon we came passed Neil Young’s sailing yacht, I later made a drawing of it. New Zealand’s raw beauty—crisp air, endless vistas—blew me away. Photos of those drives still spark joy. After that, we flew to Fiji, a stunning island chain. I nearly drowned there, snorkeling in a lagoon. Caught up in the thrill, I swam too far from shore, battling an outgoing tide. Exhausted, I was saved by Don de Groot, an American swim champion chatting with Martha. He spotted my panic—my angels said it wasn’t my time. Rarotonga followed, a week of gentle snorkeling and kind locals. Then Tahiti and Moorea—paradise on earth, no exaggeration. Those Pacific underwater scenes are burned into my soul.  

Road-Tripping America

Next up: Los Angeles. At UCLA’s bulletin board, we scored a Buick Le Sabre for $700. That beauty carried us coast to coast—San Francisco, Sausalito’s houseboats (magnets to me), Las Vegas, Grand Canyon, Utah, and more. A bloody epic trip. We sold the Buick in Toronto, staying with Martha’s family. Back in the Netherlands, I struggled. After such beauty, settling felt impossible. Martha and I drifted apart, our marriage ending after ten years, though we stayed friends.  

Sailing to Menton

A friend’s call changed everything: “I’m sailing my yacht ‘Roompot’ to South France. Join me?” No hesitation. We navigated rivers and 180 locks from Den Bosch to Menton, Côte d’Azur—where I’d vacationed at seven in 1960. That choice rocked my world. Few months later I went back and stayed, working for Riviera Yacht Agency, maintaining 20 boats and test-sailing with clients. I fell for Marieke, the broker’s daughter. Living in Menton’s warm climate, on a boat with palm trees lining the quay—life’s choices strung together perfectly. My photos of Menton capture that magic.

Chasing the Helicopter Dream

After three blissful years, a dream surfaced: become a helicopter pilot. I enrolled at Nipissing Helicopters in Sturgeon Falls, Canada. Six months of study and winter flying (a brutal mistake—I hate cold) earned me my Commercial Helicopter Pilot License. Proud but broke, Marieke and I returned to the Netherlands. Our love didn’t survive. Worse, a medical exam crushed my flying career—my eyesight had worsened, grounding me. That shock stung, but years later, Agnes and I flew small sport planes from Hilversum, a small victory.  

Finding Agnes, Building in Bahrain

Then came Agnes. One look in our Den Bosch apartment stairwell, and I knew she was the one. By 1985, we were hand-in-hand at the Boulevard of Broken Dreams Festival, love on display. In 2025, we celebrate 40 years—she’s my rock(star). Six months into our romance, a friend in Bahrain, an air traffic controller, pitched a wild idea: build a 42ft Pahi -James Wharram catamaran. I said yes. Agnes and I moved there for two years. I became Facility Manager at Bahrain Yacht Club, overseeing boats and a workshop. Agnes, my secretary, kept us organized. In our spare time, we built the “Cat” with Steve, a Menton pal. We’d pre-built crossbeams in The Netherlands, borrowing 58 giant clamps from ‘t Kromhout wharf Amsterdam—photos tell that tale. 

Sailing Through War

In 1986-88, we sailed from Bahrain through the First Gulf War’s chaos—Qatar, Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Muscat-Oman, then across the Arabian Sea to India. I navigated by stars, using celestial navigation. We anchored at Grove Beach, Kovalam, Kerala, mingling with locals for six weeks. Then, the Maldives—pancake-flat islands. At Club Valtur, we struck a deal: daytime sail-trips and evening cabaret for a month’s stay. Laughter and good times followed, but tensions aboard grew unbearable. Agnes and I bailed, flying from the Maldives via Colombo to Amsterdam. My video, “Sailing Through the First Gulf War,” captures it all.  

Life on Stella

Back in Amsterdam, I craved a boat life. At ‘t Kromhout wharf, we eyed Stella, a steel North Sea botter, ex-fisher from Urk (UK 51). Love at first sight, but unaffordable. My creative brain kicked in—I asked Dad to loan the cash via a second mortgage. He resisted, knowing my wanderlust, but a visit to Stella won him over. His condition: Agnes and I needed jobs by next week. Monday, I called Rederij de Amstel, landed a canal tour captain gig that day. Agnes scored a Philips secretary job. From 1988-95, we lived and worked at ‘t Kromhout—me as a captain, ships carpenter, and steel welder; Agnes in admin. Golden years.

80’s super hit

With 1,862,686,606 views !!! ”Billie Jean” was the first short film made for ‘Thriller,’ the biggest-selling album of all time. The short film for this No. 1 single, directed by Steve Barron, made history as the first video by a black artist to receive heavy rotation on MTV, and was later ranked by the network as one of the 100 greatest music videos of all time.