I stepped gingerly over the gaps in the old dock way. From below came the sound of the tide sucking around the ancient pilings. To my query, a weathered old crabber, his face a painting by Nature herself, assured me it was alright to set up my easel anywhere in the walkway. "A-h-h-h," he exhaled, "these water men don't care if you go out here."

The old walkway ended at a distant crabber's shack, askew on improbable pilings in the shallows of Chesapeake Bay. I painted a few quick color sketches, then took a few photographs as a diversion to the more serious painting I had in mind. The light was bright, the day grayish and overcast, but peaceful here in Crisfield, Maryland. It was pleasant to be at my easel. Insects from the marshes zoomed by, their wings droning. Overhead gulls wheeled, their raucous calls a benediction upon those below.

I was aware of the soft ripples first. They lapped at the old boat's worn strakes, and seemed to roll in from somewhere far off in the haze. I knew with an artist's instincts, that I must capture them at once, before the haze turned off. A happy combo of cerulean, burnt umber and neutral tint captured the look and I knew I could do it. The old boat - a deadrise as the water men call the type - looked long-neglected. Paint was peeling and rust streaks were everywhere beneath the fitting heads. A few planks in the old hull were beginning to separate.

I wondered ... were her working days over? Had her owners perhaps abandoned her here? Would she ever again know the tread of the water men as they stood on her stern and worked their long scissors oyster tongs along the bottom? Or was hers just the honest look of any hard-used deadrise in the arster trade? The more I painted, the more I wondered, and I wanted you to wonder with me. Somehow I felt the ripples knew the answer, but they kept their secret as they chuckled and ran along the old boat's waterline. No one came. The old crabber disappeared.

So many mysteries.

If only I can help you to wonder with me, too.
This is the essence of my art ... Jim Daviner

A special thank you to B. Powell for his well chosen words.

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Fine art original watercolors and limited editions by celebrated artist Jim Daviner are the focus of these pages, demonstrating his love of nautical and wildlife subjects and sharing with you, the essence of his art.