For all its bravura, Mr. Fairfax’s seafaring almost pales beside his earlier ventures. Footloose and handsome, he was a flesh-and-blood character out of Graham Greene, with more than a dash of Hemingway and Ian Fleming shaken in.
At 9, he settled a dispute with a pistol. At 13, he lit out for the Amazon jungle.
At 20, he attempted suicide-by-jaguar. Afterward he was apprenticed to a pirate. To please his mother, who did not take kindly to his being a pirate, he briefly managed a mink farm, one of the few truly dull entries on his otherwise crackling résumé, which lately included a career as a professional gambler.
This is totally worth a quick read. A pistol fight at nine years old? Bad ass.
It isn’t like a new day or spring flowers it was like the eight spiders you swallow in a lifetime Inside you before you know it It was like the cockroaches in your kitchen Apparent in the night, crawling from their secret home Signaling it is time, to clean your house It is like the sudden fly on…