Death of Dennis Puleston

Subject: Death of Dennis Puleston
From: Charley Noble
Date: 17 Jun 01 - 12:19 PM

There's a very fine obituary for Dennis in the New York Times yesterday who died at 95. It mentioned his environmental role in founding the Environmental Defense Fund, his engineering role in co-inventing and demonstrating the DUKW amphibious landing craft in WW II (he was wounded in the spine by a Japenese shell splinter), and his round the world sails in the 1930's described in his book Blue Water Vagabond (recently reprinted). What is not mentioned is the wonderful British Music Hall songs he used to sing us, and the outrageously bawdy songs, some of which you should be able to find by doing a thread search on "Dennis Puleston."

Now Dennis Puleston has gone to rest,
And may his soul forever be blessed,
Of all good fellows he was the best...

Subject: RE: Death of Dennis Puleston
From: Charley Noble
Date: 18 Jun 01 - 01:42 PM

I thought I would add what my Brother Bob had to say:

How many out there know how to sketch a lighthouse on yellow paper, then cut a radiating, triangular sliver out of a second piece; then sandwich them together? Low and behold, when held to the light, you see the beam of a lighthouse piercing through the night! That was Dennis!

Then there was the tale of the Bellam Bamjang - a forty masted sailing ship, resting forever in the shallows of some forgotten seaway, her straw bottom picked clean by a herd of hungry seahorses. And what child could forget the famous seahorse race where the much vaunted favorite was secretly fed a cannonball, allowing a pimpled, scrawny little seahorse contender to emerge the victor. It's as if I was still, maybe five or six years old and Dennis was there, spinning his wondrous bedtime stories.

The tradition continued right on down to the present day. It was only a couple of years ago that Dennis gave my wife, Jane, and our then twelve year old daughter, Jenna, a personal tour of his office when he heard that Jenna was an artist. That room was a time machine worthy of H.G. Wells: a shrunken head personally given to him by a Polynesian Chief, a collection of skulls, an array of sketchbooks and especially the parrot who said: "Hello, Michael."

I never had a chance to go the Antarctic with Dennis, nor hear him describe first hand the wonders of the Amazon - life kind of gets in the way when you grow up. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to accompany Peter, Sally or Jennifer (his children) there someday, should they continue to follow in Dennis's footsteps.


I might also mention that Dennis was good friends, and singing companion to Bill Bonyun and Richard Dyer-Bennet back when they all lived in Brookhaven, Long Island.