One of the first, finest and favorite characters I met in my early days in the Caribbean was Paul Erling Johnson, writes  Kirsty Morrison. He sailed into Bequia on his fine ship Cherub with the lovely Sophie Brain aboard, recently kidnapped from the island of Nevis.

Kirsty with Paul Johnson

He was a charmer, raconteur, boatbuilder, artist and one of life’s finest scoundrels. Born in the UK in 1938 he first sailed across the Atlantic in an 18’ Shetland fishing boat named Venus. He sailed through many orbits of that moon, several lost through shipwreck. He was living on the final incarnation, Cherub, in Carriacou until his well used body was ready for his soul to move on. He rode that body hard. I would always ask after him with a slight hint of, ‘is he still alive?’ in my voice.

Below decks on a liveaboard, Johnson’s last boat Cherub

His years at sea brought him wives and children scattered around the world. I remember a 10 year old Merlin teaching me how to free dive in Lower Bay. He threw all his knowledge of oceans and weather and the nomadic life of living aboard into his vessels. He honed them well, kept them simple, sturdy and seaworthy. ‘Too much to go wrong on these modern vessels’ he would chunter into his rum. The rum, it was always warm, served straight up in a well used glass. No refrigeration or mixers in Johnson’s world.

  His auto pilot was a pair of wooden pegs pinned into a rail to hold the tiller in position. He sailed thousands of miles with his gaff rigged ketch perfectly balanced and kept on course by a peg.

His yacht designs became notorious amongst cruisers and self builders of the 70’s and 80’s. He built them in Bermuda, Antigua, St Barths and Florida. An early one was built from a tumbledown church from which he rescued the timbers. He sold plans and hundreds were built in backyards; I know of one that was built in Ohio by another salty character Thorpe Leeson. The mighty Segue in Bermuda has just been heroically restored by Austin Ross; Jan J Hein and Bruce Smith probably have stories to equal Johnson aboard their Venus ‘Woodwind’. Paul also built a powerboat in Carriacou for David Goldhill aptly named ‘Mostly Harmless’.

An example of Johnson’s art

He was an artist of other sorts too; paint on paper or wood or anything was another skill of his. Many were lost to the ocean but he still had a fine collection on board and proudly told me of exhibitions in New York and around the world. His paintings depict places I know so well but seen through his own fantastical mind. I’ll never forget his dancing images of the coconut trees in the Spring Valley, Bequia. I think of him every time I pass through there and see those palms through his eyes.
He had one dalliance with land life when he bought some property in the Azores. I always thought he might end up there, it seems like a place a man can feel the power of the ocean and skies whilst not actually living on the water. He never did last long there though and ended up living his final years aboard in Carriacou, supported by a gallant and faithful crew of friends.
He always used to tell me that if he ever moved off his boat he would live in one of the caves at the bottom of the sheer cliffs on the leeward side of Bequia Head. I like to think of him there and will raise a glass of warm rum to him whenever I sail by.
Rest easy Johnson, and thank you for your never ending quest for a life of freedom. You have been and always will be a true inspiration.

It was a lot of hot pink… sunglasses were necessary

Read Kirsty’s story from when she and some friends were in the pink, at Antigua:  HERE

 

 

 

 

 

A film about Johnson is proposed, see this trailer: