I was one of those inauspicious youth.  Gifted with dyslexia made learning the academic disciplines a challenge, which was reflected in my IQ score.  So embarrassed was my Mom that she refused to reveal the number, or even that it was—unfortunately low.  During the final stage of completing my PhD dissertation, I said to her, “Mom, …though it helps, one number can’t capture a brain’s potential.  Weight, okay!  IQ, …I doubt it.  Nonetheless, she didn’t buy it.  Thus, the score remains a mystery, but most likely lies in the mid, double-digit range, that of a moron.  Despite her reluctance, I always knew she believed I was not; he’s just different.

Consequently, primary, and secondary schooling was not, overall, a pleasant experience.  There was the summer-school interment before junior high to polish my skills in English.  What a waste of a good summer!  Then there was the formal denial of my desire to take algebra in my sophomore year of high school.  I took it after my Dad straightened the counselor out, and I managed a C+, and went on to take geometry, nailing a B.  In the realm reading, writing, phonics—nothing made much sense in elementary school other than being repeatedly embarrassed before my classmates when being called upon to read out-load. High school wasn’t much better as I was always nailed by those sneaky exceptions to the rules of grammar, as well as the host of the normal rules.  F-papers were frequent occurrences.

Clearly, there wasn’t much respect for Robert’s potential by the school’s administration, and understandably so.  It showed; they allowed me to graduate from high school without writing a dreaded term paper.  Art, drafting, shop-classes and swimming in my senior year saved me, along with a fine bunch of mentors/college educators and parents who believed in me.  I left the institution without much loyalty, and opted-out of the graduation hoop-la as final statement of defiance, which set a pattern of avoiding all future graduations.

Pivotal to finding my way were four ski/basketball buddies whom I teamed-up with in Jr. college.  Also graduates of Crescenta Valley High School, we lit upon the idea of a summer tour of the United States, and not one of employment.  “U.S.A or Bust,” it was and from it, all four of us went on to complete PhDs’, and this despite the general impression that none of us, except for one, were viewed as achievers.  Of the four, I occupied the lower quartile.  With time, however I completed an Associate Arts degree at Glendale Jr. College, received a Bachelor of Science degree at Colorado State University, and Master and Doctorate of Science at Texas A & M University.  I love the university environment, and in particular graduate school; it was a exhilarating.

On the social front, events seemed burden by dyslexia as well.  Being the slower learner and embarrassed as a result (plus having big ears), I followed a more independent path into outdoor adventures and activities.  Fortunately my Dad, a former fighter pilot in Southwest Pacific, led the way, and being a So-Cal kid himself, he surfed and skied before World War II.  In my life, I was introduce to water and snow.  We surfed and skied regularly, hiked and camped the Sierras and deserts, traveled the West Coast.  He took me up for short flights in his company’s plane, Call-sign 591, and I was often allowed to accompany him to work, and hang out amongst Fairchild’s Aero Survey’s vintage fleet of World War II airplanes (B-17’s, P-38’s, Electra, etc.) at Lockheed’s Burbank airport.  I was given guided tours of the aircraft, and permitted to climb through the machines.   Then there was the exploration of La Crescenta’s chaparral/arroyo terrane and the San Gabriel Mountains.  The chaparral was a walk through a natural diorama, an early California Hobbit like landscape.  In this habituate, I kind of lived the Tom Sawyer life-style, at least in my mind, and it was to set the stage for my education in the geosciences and a field geologist.

As a result of the 1964 Alaska Good Friday Earthquake, I took the introductory geology class at Glendale Jr. College.  It lit the academic fire under me, and learning became an absorbing adventure despite the hurdles of dyslexia.  It tasked me with learning-to-learn my way of thinking, and master how my brain works.  I didn’t discover that I was dyslexic until my mid-forties.  Then I understood my gift, one of which often allows me to solve complex problem in my sleep, and wake-up with a solution that is testable.

As stated above, mentors saved me.  An older gentleman friend of my parents, Taylor, helped with the art of discussion and history, the writing and editing of my college term paper which earned me a C.  Others within the departments of geology at Colorado State University and Texas A & M recognized my strengths and potential, became close friends, and blessed me with a dynamic career as an exploration geologist with Atlantic Richfield Oil & Gas Company. 

Success at ARCO came early during my first six month assignment exploring for the oil and gas potential of offshore Southern California.  Crossing the forbidden barrier between geology and geophysics at the time, I obtained most of ARCO’s geophysical data and bulk of its offshore seismic, and in doing so mapped-out what is now the offshore Huntington Beach field. 

Unfortunately for ARCO, the exploration VP didn’t go for play despite the recommendations of the chief geologist and chief geophysicist, and fact that the potential field lay only 12 miles from ARCO’s refinery.   Its current reserves probably exceed a half billion barrels. 

Nonetheless, I came away with credibility and eventually rose to the rank of chief geologist (one of two) of ARCO International Oil & Gas Co. before being downwardly mobile to the scientific ranks again, which was okay with me.  Out of this career, I’ve been blessed with traveling the world, meeting so many interesting peoples and cultures, touching down in thirty countries, and worked extensively in eastern Turkey and lived four plus years in Indonesia with great surf.  As you can probably surmise, surfing and skiing have been central to Robert’s life, as it was with the other chief geologist.  The two of us quickly bonded as close friends and have made the most of surfing in our travels and still do.

Mid-Pacific is a culmination of my geoscience background, a dyslexic mind, romance, the love for ships and the sea, knowledge, and a push by one of the four jr. college buddies, now retired Professor Emeritus, Roger J. Best.  The journey of the novel began over tequila at a Astoria, Oregon bar at the mouth of the Columbia River while on a painting trip, when Roger said something to the affect, “Ears, you need to write a novel of your idea.  It sounds like a Titanic-type epic.”  Well, this task has taken a decade, and a commitment to learn the ways of English, which I have finally found interesting. 

I’ve been also been honored to be a longstanding member of two professional societies, the American Geophysical Union and the Geological Society of America.  I mention this because the people of these two organization, like so many scientific organizations, represent bright, talented and intellectually honest thinkers bursting with exciting ideas; concepts, hypotheses, theories about all aspects about of the Earth, as well as the processes and dynamics of our Solar system.  Attending a Spring or Fall AGU meeting is feast for the mind, and a source of my inner motivation to make science central to Mid-Pacific.

Finally, I need to mention two movies that in my youth propounding affected me romantically, and brought into my life a wonderful woman and wife.  The first was the French 1961 film Fannie staring Leslie Caron, Charles Boyer, Maurice Chevalier, and Horst Buchholz.  The second was the western classic, The Magnificent Seven and the love that blossomed between the young gunfighter (again Horst Buchholz) and the Yaqui maiden of the village, Rosenda Monteros.  These movies have helped in formulating the elements of romance in Mid-Pacific.    As a young man of 16 years, Rosenda opened my eyes to our Native Americans, and to a LA Latina girl of Apache heritage.   My lady and I live in northern Nevada, next to Lake Tahoe in the Carson Valley, and adventure across the wilds of the West, a land loaded with geologic wonders and an ephemeral Black Rock City.