the Music Lives On

My good friend Steve, who set sail recently for the great beyond, gave me an old guitar he and Lorraine had been packing about for a while and did not play. Steve loved to hear me bang out old hippy songs at our beach parties and cruiser gatherings. This guitar was perfect for taking to the sandy beach or packing in the dinghy. As I just bought yet another guitar, and four on a boat is just a bit much, I thought of what to do with the ol’ axe.

We were headed to another one of our amazing visits to the good people of the Komodo Village on the island of Komodo. I was taking a new crew who had not had this inevitably enlightening experience. The thing that makes these visits to this primitive and simple village life changing is the children; the kids speak to me like a rainbow, a massage for the soul, a message from God reminding me to smile.

So knowing Steve had been by this way on our first Indonesian adventure I knew he would love to have his memory live on in this village. I packed the old nylon string guitar ashore. The village greeter understood my request and took us, dragon stick in hand, to the large school at the back of the village. There, in one of the classrooms I gave him the guitar and told the hijab clad teacher it was a gift from an old friend to the children of Komodo. They were very pleased to get this and I know someone will learn to play it, maybe the next Indonesian rock star, who knows?

So Steve, old friend, your memory lives on in a remote village full of loving souls and huge smiles. If you are cruising in Komodo, stop by the village, and maybe you will hear the strumming of Steve’s guitar.