OCEAN Magazine Spring 2013, Issue 38
Front Cover   Images and Words    Tom Watson
   Wavelengths    Diane Buccheri

   The Tides    Roger Singer

   Rays    Diane Buccheri

   Midnight Kayaking    Emily Bright

   From the Eyes of a Kayak    Richard Roshon

   Dancing Dolphins    James Dorsey

   Rhythming    Diane Buccheri

   Dolphin Brain    Kathy Parra
   The Color Blue    Jeff Beyls

   Westerly Again    Tom Sheehan

   Hamburg Cove    Matthew Goldman

   My Providence    Michael Lombardi

   Sea Monsters    Melba Milak

   Writing Contest Winner    Shelli Armanes

   Photography Contest Winner    Robert Nowak

A glimpse into this issue . . .

Photographic Imagery and writing by Tom Watson  


    by Tom Watson


The destination need not be any more than achieving a continuum beyond
that transitional moment within a paddler’s soul when being on the ocean
becomes being of the ocean. When all one’s senses of body, mind, and
surroundings mesh into one spiritual journey, encompassing everything.

See and Read the Photographic Essay


The sunrises in the colors of the spectrum as the wavelengths shorten.


    by Diane Buccheri

The 4 A.M. reality is different from the 12 noon reality. In the time
just before twilight, all takes on a deeper meaning, holographic.
In this darkness, light is shed on truths and mysteries are revealed.
In the glare of the sun high overhead, these are lost, lost to depths
within. Yet retrievable with a search in the dark.

It is here I go for answers.

Read the Article


Dolphins danced joyfully for James Dorsey and his kayaking friends from daylight to the next morning off Danzante Island. 


   by James Dorsey


We cheered and clapped. They jumped solo, then in pairs, in synch,
in opposite directions, almost forming a heart shaped arch as they
passed each other in mid-air. If ever an animal gave a gift to man,
this was ours.

They were almost onshore, not more than 20 feet from us in no more
than 5 to 10 feet of water, lifting their bodies skyward with little momentum.

Read the Story 

Richard Roshon kayaks the waters around Hawai'i with whales.


    by Richard Roshon


She surfaces from under my kayak, swims alongside. I see my reflection in her eye.
I feel her sorrow, deep, deep sorrow with the passing of her calf.

She raises her pectoral fin and lays it ever so gently over the bow of my kayak.

A mother humpback bonds with her calf and creates a sense of security through
touch while living in a medium of seemingly no boundaries.

Since then, the late 1970s, this humpback whale, with each of her newborn calves,  
lays alongside my kayak and follows along.

Frequently, my companion surfaces under my kayak. I slowly roll from her side and
reach out to touch her. Her outer layers of skin wrinkle as she feels my touch.
Here in Hawai’i we call this chicken skin. On the mainland it is goosebumps.

Read the Story

And so much more!