Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Managing Transport OperationsBy Edmund J Gubbins

Managing Transport Operations by Edmund J Gubbins is one of the best text books covering transport management. Available from publishers Kogan Page or Amazon.


Sunday, 2 July 2017

John McDonnell

how can we trust this man to be in government when he does not believe in the democratic system. Instead of trying to get the government to answer in parliament, all he can do is organise mass anti government rallies. He denies that his intention is to breed violence but opens his political process to the violent mob. The way to end.austerity is to put up income tax rates rather than squeeze the poor.
Is he the most dangerous man in U.K. Politics at the present time?

Friday, 16 June 2017

Theresa May

surely she cannot go on much longer. Even the Queen showed her the way to behave by visiting the tower block survivors. Who are her advisers? As to making a pact with the DUP words fail me. I do not trust John McDonell but at least the Labour Party are saying the things that have been annoying people for a long time. The rich get richer for no greater effort. Now we hear the University Vice Chancellors are going to awkward themselves a large pay rise while keeping lectures wages the same. Get rid of them all.

Saturday, 3 June 2017

Princess Daphe b Eddie Gubbins

Princess Daphne.by Eddie Gubbins a fantasy novel following on from the Rombuli Saga trilogy.

It has been six years since the war against the Black Elves.During that time, Edward Eastland has been missing the tension and the fear that had been part of his life. He had settled into the role of Governor of   Rombuli and a family man. When sitting reading reports in his office, he could almost feel the tingle when he entered an alien space where he had not been before. He missed the fast beating heart while creeping through enemy territory. Then there was the pulling in of his power to help his friends or himself. This is what had been missing.
One day without warning,he has word from the elves of th Golden City that an alien has Ben captured and all they can understand when it speaks is his name. Ifhee answers the call from the elves will this draw him back into the outside world he thought he had left for ever.

Sunday, 28 May 2017

Integration

It is obvious that If we are to has a more integrated society in this country, we have to have integrated schools. Why we have never learnt the lessons from Northern Island is beyond me. As a lecturer at aBritish University I met many students from there were the first contact with somebody from the other side was in my lectures. This is happening now in the U.K. We have to make sure that all schools have mixture of pupils from all religions and none. A law should be passed banning exclusive schools based on one religious group.

Friday, 12 May 2017

An Ordinary Life by Edmund Gubbins

An Ordinary Life by Edmund J Gubbins
Money laundering is illegal. Even Tom Houseman knows that. He, as an academic, makes a distinction between helping somebody to set up legitimate business and the source of the money. 
The novel follows the life of Tom Houseman. From his early childhood on the edge of a hard council estate to eminent Professor with a worldwide reputation and great wealth. The story explores the manner in which most people regard themselves as honest and law abiding although there are times and circumstances when they ignore the rules of behaviour or of some moral code. These people justify their actions by ignoring their conscience or making excuses for their behaviour. In extreme cases they give the impression that morality is not an issue in their case. 
Tom Houseman has a boyhood friend called Derek from the council estate and, though their paths diverge after junior school, he stays loyal to his friend. Derek becomes the right hand man of the criminal Mr. Big and introduces Edward. During his life, Edward accepts opportunities presented by his friends and his brother. These enhance both his standing in society and his wealth. All the time, he ignores and denies the moral and legal implications of taking advantage of these offers. As time passes, he has to accept the implications of his choices. 
Will he finally have to face these hard decisions or will he sail serenely on living, to him, this ordinary life?



Available as a paperback from Amazon and www.createspace.com and for downloading to readers from Kindle and www.smashwords.com

Friday, 17 March 2017

Tales From The Sea by Eddie Gubbins



















Eddie off to sea                                                                Eddie as Chief Officer

Tales From The Sea is a semi-autobiographical novel following my time at sea as a ships officer between 1957 and 1969. The reader will meet the characters with whom I sailed, the good, the bad, the comedians and the tough guys. There are the nights ashore and the visits to exotic places to which I voyaged. Sail with me on the ships old and new, tankers, cargo liners and ferries as they ploughed across the oceans carrying the products of the world. Weaving a spell over everything is the sea and its dangers. To most semen, the sea itself calls. No seaman ever knows what mood will greet them when they sail out of the port to greet the sea or how the mood can change very quickly. This is the excitement of sailing the seas and it still excites me when I board a ship and sail off as a passenger to some distant places.


This is an extract taken from Tales from the Sea

The Cigar

I was sailing on the San Wifrido as a cadet around the Caribbean and down the South American coast. It was a well organised ship and the Captain insisted that each cadet was attached to one of the ship’s deck officers. This way we would learn what was required of a ship’s officer. My officer was the second mate. I followed him round the ship and sometimes ashore while he was working. Helping him in his jobs and running errands when ordered. Over time during the voyage we had become more than colleagues but good friends.
The ship had berthed in one of those South American ports bordering the Caribbean sea to load crude oil. As seemed often the case it was the middle of the night. After securing the ship, the second mate and I had watched from the catwalk as guards were posted, one on deck, the other at the foot of the gangway. I asked the second mate why in this tin pot dictatorship they needed to post guards. He shrugged.
“ What are they looking for?” I asked as our bags were searched as we went ashore to deliver papers to the agent.
“ Subversive material,” he muttered while smiling at the guard.
When we took over the loading of the cargo from the Chief Officer, it was mid morning. The water ballast had been pumped ashore and the crude oil was now flowing into the ship’s tanks.
As we opened and closed valves to start loading into one of the tanks, the sun was beating down on the black painted deck. Heat haze rose causing the structures to shimmer and waver. The only shade was under the catwalk which joined the amidships and aft accommodation. This was high above the deck to give safe passage when the deck was  battered by waves. Joining the heat haze was the cloud of gas from the open vent through which we measured the oil depth in the tank.
By the amidships accommodation,  a guard in his green uniform, gun slung over his shoulder, lounged against the rail watching our efforts. Ashore, another guard sat on a bench by the foot of the gangway chatting loudly to a refinery worker.
I measured the oil depth and reported this to the second mate.
He grinned. “ Another forty minutes until we have to change tanks. I’m off to the cargo office to enter the figures in the book.”
“ And get a mug of coffee,” I muttered.
“ I heard that,” he laughed. “Privileges of yer officer class me boy. I’ll bring one back......”
He never finished what he was saying, Like a statue he was fixed to the spot, his eyes bulging from his head. I glanced in the direction in which he was looking and froze.
The guard had straightened and was pulling out of his pocket what looked like a large cigar. Calmly,  he unpacked it from its silver case, throwing the case into the sea.
We stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. Both of us were silently willing him to put it back into his pocket but, after rolling it between his fingers, he raised it to his lips.
After that it was as though everything happened in slow motion. The lifting of the arm to place the cigar in his mouth. The reaching into a pocket and extracting a lighter. The hand going round the lighter, thumb on the striker. The cupping of the hands against the breeze.
His thumb moved and the lighter sparked. Flame leapt from the wick. His head lowered until the end of the cigar disappeared into his cupped hands. He straightened and the end of the cigar glowed red.
The second mate had ducked under the cat walk and I quickly joined him, hunching down behind one of the pillars. 
Nothing happened.
I took a quick look.
The guard was standing looking straight down the deck through the gas cloud pulling contentedly on his cigar. All I could see was the glowing red end. It appeared to get bigger and bigger.
“ You’ll have to order him to put it out,” I told the second mate trying to sound calm.
“ Not me after what happened to Joe the last time we were here.” The second mate sank further into the shadows under the cat walk. “ All he did was let the national flag touch the deck when he was lowering it one night. The guard shot at him and arrested him. He spent two weeks in jail before the company could get him out.”
I stepped out of the shadows and took a measurement of the oil. About half filling the tank.
A sound made me turn sharply and I once more froze to the spot. In measured steps, his gun slung jauntily across his back, the guard was walking along the catwalk towards the stern contentedly puffing on his cigar.  Screaming at me from behind his back in big letters on the accommodation bulkhead. NO SMOKING in three languages.
I stood rigid and glued to the spot. The measuring tape dangled unnoticed in my hand. Clouds of gas drifted upwards over the catwalk from the tank opening. The smell of oil filled my nostrils. My stomach was filled with ice.
Clank, clank. Measured footsteps along the metal grating over my head. The red tip of the cigar, big and round, bright even in the sunlight. As though out for a Sunday stroll round the village square, the guard passed overhead, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake. My eyes followed his progress but my feet were fixed to the spot. I wondered how much I would feel when the ship exploded.
The guard walked out of the gas cloud and continued until he reached the end of the cat walk. Turning towards the port side, he strolled under the NO SMOKING signs, took one last puff on his cigar and threw the butt over the side of the ship.
Looking in my direction, he grinned. “ Very good cigar. Come from Cuba.”

The novel can be read as a paperback from Amazon or www.createspace.com.
For downloading as an ebook go to Kindle or www.smashwords.com

Have a good read!!!