Whether flying, sailing or motorcycling, Ken Moreash has always had places to go and people to see, camera in hand. But there's no place like home…

"Someday I'm gonna retire and move back home."

How many times have you heard that? I recall meeting a couple of chaps in Yellowknife many moons ago-they were from Mahone Bay, NS, and Saint John, NB, away for 27 and 32 years respectively. Neither had been back East for a couple of decades but when they retired, by gosh, they were coming back home. The memories of home were as fresh as the day they left. I don't know if they did in fact return, or still plan to do so, but it was comforting to know that our part of the world sticks with a native forever. Like the Atlantic salmon, there's something in the DNA of an East Coaster that brings us back to the Atlantic shores to nest. Also, like the salmon, sometimes there are barriers that inhibit the trip, but the urge to get here remains constant.

Not long ago Billy and I spent a delightful day with Ken Moreash, a fellow who came back home after spending much of his career elsewhere. My primary interest was in Ken's photography and his ties to our part of the world. Instead, I spent much of the visit listening to two "fly boys" relive and share their experiences as pilots. Though they had not met before, it seemed that Billy and Ken were moments apart in some of their Air Force training and flying days. I, too, was taken back to my youth as I listened to their reminiscences of Harvards, Sabres and T-Birds (T-33s).

As a young fella growing up in Spryfield, a suburb of Halifax, Ken always knew he wanted to be a pilot. Though he didn't meet the regular criteria to become one, he managed to be in the right place at the right time. Times were different then! He says he was lucky; others would say he was single-minded and tenacious.

Something unique happens when a person speaks of his or her obsession. Part of a quote I read recently said, "When you love something or somebody, little stars come out of you." Little stars-the love of the skies-and tales of flying by the seats of their pants filled the room at the Moreash house while the fly boys talked!

Ken and Billy share another passion, too-motorcycling. Billy is welded to his Honda 1800 for the entire biking season. Ken's bike, an Ecomobile, was developed by a former Swiss airline pilot. In the US and Europe, the Eco is considered street legal, but unfortunately it can't be licensed in Canada for some strange reason. It is one of only about 100 in the world and looks like a combination of aircraft, missile, motorcycle and bus. Ken and his wife, Rosalie, have toured much of Europe and the US in the Ecomobile. It is heated, carpeted and air conditioned and, according to Ken, is one of the safest vehicles on any road. Billy and I examined his bike, and I must admit that the temptation to take it out for an illegal spin was strong!

Those of us who fill our lives with our passions are extremely fortunate. How many people do you know who merely put in time until they can do whatever it is that they most love doing? Too many! But Ken didn't wait 'til he retired to indulge his passions-he has lived them all his life.

It doesn't take long to sense the basic character of Ken Moreash. Though he describes himself as an "everyday kinda guy," I see him as charming, humble, gutsy, daring, impetuous, competent and someone who loves a challenge. He's clearly an East Coast kinda guy.

He picked the right partner-Rosalie is as gutsy as he. Together they opened the first donut shops in the east; one in Spryfield, the other in Gander, NL. To spread the word about their venture, Rosalie peddled the donuts door to door in Gander-in their Mercedes! Gives yet another meaning to flying by the seat of your pants!

A fter Ken's stint in the Air Force, his flying career took him to instructing at an airport near Halifax; to Schefferville, in northern Quebec; bush piloting in Newfoundland; and ultimately to flying for Swissair where he spent 25 years flying "big wings" worldwide. He and Rosalie moved their family to a place near Zurich where they learned new languages and new lifestyles. Of course they returned to Nova Scotia frequently so their kids could practice English.

Sombre, wistful, faraway looks crossed their faces at the mention of the Swissair Flight 111 crash off Peggy's Cove. It was like a quiet prayer had filled the room. Ken has put together some special photo memorials to pay tribute to the departed.

Ken's love of photography has run concurrent with the adventures of his life. He indulged this passion with the purchase of a Hasselblad camera when he was quite young, and it has been one of his best friends ever since. Billy and I were struck by the emotion evident in his boxes of special photos. You can smell his flowers; the mist on Kejimkujik Lake tingles on your face, and you thrill at his confidence in the skies. The view from his window at the entrance to Halifax Harbour tastes of salt.

Ken's travels have taken him to India, China and Southeast Asia-and his camera was never far from his reach. You smile at children in China playing with their sunshade umbrellas. The beauty of children in India made me feel the plainness of my Scottish heritage-oh how I wish there had been a mixture of that palette in my background! Looking at these photos strengthened my wish to attract more people from foreign countries to our land.

Photos are so much more than the capture of an instant. Photos are our treasures, the things we hold dearest because they are images of some of our best times and most treasured people. I pore over my shots of the rainbow over a favourite fisherman on the Margaree-I relive the moments we were there. I treasure the pictures of my boys-even though they live away from the East Coast, their images, like their hearts, live here.

I've heard many say that the most valuable items they'd take from a burning home would be their photo albums. Almost everything else can be replaced or rebuilt-losing one's photos is like losing one's past.

The skies and the earth are not Ken's only passions-he's a sailor, too. A couple of years after he retired from Swissair and returned to live in Nova Scotia, he departed on a major sailing adventure. He sailed with a friend to the Azores, then on his own to Portugal, up the coast of Spain, and on to Majorca where Rosalie joined him to sail back home. They experienced 10 to 12 hours of a raging hurricane while crossing the Caribbean, but with the grit and determination that is Ken, they survived to tell the tale. He sails by the seat of his pants, too!

To use a musical term, the rhythm of Ken's life has been rock and roll. He has rocked the boat when necessary and rolled with the punches. And he's made his way upstream to make his nest, here-home at last!