No sooner had we shaken hands, it seemed, that Fred immediately led Kat�ri off to give her a choice of coffee and tea in the kitchen. Fred seemed rather taken with my wife and spent a great deal of time paying attention to her. And I can't blame him. I did the same when she first entered my life! As the two of them vanished into the house, Brian escorted my son and I into the suite of rooms that houses the "Clarkives." The phrase "holy of holies" leaped to mind at once -- and does again as I type this.
At left, a central display case of awards, photos and various items sits beneath an oil portrait of Arthur C. Clarke. On either side of the portrait are two rocket-shaped Hugo awards. A Nebula award sits in the center of the bottom shelf.
There were hundreds, if not thousands, of copies of books and videos -- all of Sir Arthur's writings, it would seem, in a variety of languages, as well as compilations that feature one or more of his stories and essays. The volumes literally overflowed into other rooms, and were augmented with video tapes of various Clarke-related projects, posters, framed signed photos of friends and space-venturing colleagues (including the entire astronaut corps), and much, much more.
There were awards everywhere -- three Hugos, two Nebulas, a Marconi Award, and even the fledgling "Arthur C. Clarke Book Award," underwritten by the foundation for new writers -- and designed by Fred. The elegant book-shaped prize, Fred said, seemed to make a great deal more sense than a few others in the room. I had to agree that it's a much more artistic-looking object than some of the awards even his brother had brought home -- for example, the John W. Campbell Award, a small metal Mobius strip which (despite the estimable honor it represents) nonetheless resembles a dog collar.
At right, another shelf is topped with yet another Hugo award, a Nebula and one of the few Marconi awards ever presented, this one for Sir Arthur's conception of communications satellites.
Fred's assistant at the Foundation, the expert and helpful Chris Howse, contributed immensely to the mood of enthusiasm that permeated the room. "Look at this!" he said, carefully lowering to the table a huge lump weighing some 40 pounds, seemingly made of stone, wrapped in a cloth. It turned out to be a clump of the treasure that Arthur Clarke and Mike Wilson pulled out of the Indian Ocean in the early 1960s -- early 18th century Muslim silver rupees that were bound together by ocean silt, the bag having originally wrapped them long disintegrated. Sir Arthur wrote about the discovery in "The Treasure of the Great Reef." (See the photo at the bottom of this page for a glimpse of the treasure.)
Holding this object in my hand -- something I'd read about as a teen-ager and only dreamed of someday being able to see (let along hold!) -- it dawned on me foolishly that everything Sir Arthur wrote about is true. I was suddenly propelled into an Oz of utter reality, where I could share physical space with the things about which I'd only read and envisioned for decades.
This heady sensation continued as Fred and Chris produced item after item that I regarded as even greater treasures than a lump of rupees -- for example, Sir Arthur's early journal of books he'd read and films he'd seen, complete with his notations ranking them, and the telescope that Sir Arthur constructed in his youth.
At right, Fred Clarke shows off one of his brother's home-made telescopes, created at their nearby boyhood home at Ballifants.
Nathan found fascinating Brian's and Chris's accounts of meetings with Patrick Stewart and the impact of Sir Arthur's ideas on "Star Trek" creator Gene Roddenberry. Kat�ri was charmed by Fred's gentlemanly manner and the vitality with which we were treated. And, beyond the great humanity of the afternoon, the astonishments just piled on, one after the other.
Chris placed on the central desk a large box that, when opened, revealed the portable typewriter on which Sir Arthur wrote "Extra Terrestrial Relays" in 1945. A card attached to the typewriter read as follows: "In 1945, Arthur C. Clarke used this Remington Noiseless Portable to type an essay called 'Extra Terrestrial Relays.' The article was published in 'Wireless World' and described how orbiting space stations might one day enable instant global communications. Today we know these stations as satellites and they allow us to communicate around the world by telephone, fax machine and computer. The 36,000-km high geostationary orbit they occupy is known as The Clarke Orbit in recognition of Arthur C. Clarke's remarkable vision."
And I was allowed to *touch* this wonderful relic of the Space Age! Someday, that typewriter will be on display, and people by the hundreds (or, even better, thousands) will file by it, nodding and wishing that they might be able to conjure up just a spark of that kind of creativity -- but they will have to do it at a distance, and through glass.
At right is a photograph of various items from the trove gathered by Mike Wilson and Arthur C. Clarke. The oval lump at the lower left appears to be the same as the one John Sherwood was allowed to handle during his visit to the Clarkives. Many thanks to Kavan Ratnatunga for providing this photo!
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