Sailor Jerry - Life

Life

Collins was born on January 14, 1911 in Reno but grew up in Northern California. As a child he hopped freight trains across the country and learned tattooing from a man named "Big Mike" from Palmer, Alaska, originally using the hand-pricking method. In the late 1920s he met Tatts Thomas from Chicago who taught him how to use a tattoo machine. He practiced on drunks brought in from skid row. He later sailed the Pacific Ocean before settling in Hawaii in the 1930s. He often wore plain white T-shirts that exposed his ink-sleeved arms.

At age 19 Collins enlisted in the United States Navy. During his subsequent travels at sea he was exposed to the art and imagery of Southeast Asia. He remained a sailor for his entire life thereafter. Even during his career as a tattoo artist he worked as a licensed skipper of a large three-masted schooner, on which he conducted tours of the Hawaiian islands.

Sailing and tattooing were only two of his professions. He played saxophone in his own dance band and for years frequently hosted his own radio show on KTRG (AM) where he was known as "Old Ironsides". He was a prolific writer and carried on in-depth communications with many pen-pals throughout the world.

Read more about this topic:  Sailor Jerry

Famous quotes containing the word life:

    The record of one’s life must needs prove more interesting to him who writes it than to him who reads what has been written.
    “I have no name:
    “I am but two days old.”
    What shall I call thee?
    “I happy am,
    “Joy is my name.”
    Sweet joy befall thee!
    William Blake (1757–1827)

    His speech is a burning fire;
    With his lips he travaileth;
    In his heart is a blind desire,
    In his eyes foreknowledge of death:
    He weaves, and is clothed with derision;
    Sows, and he shall not reap;
    His life is a watch or a vision
    Between a sleep and a sleep.
    —A.C. (Algernon Charles)

    No self in the mass: the braver being,
    The body that could never be wounded,
    The life that never would end, no matter
    Who died, the being that was an abstraction.
    Wallace Stevens (1879–1955)