SeaKnots

"Sea-Fever"

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

By John Masefield (1878-1967).
(English Poet Laureate, 1930-1967.)

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I prefer haiku's

An ill prepared boat
Then the wind blew him away
So he blames the breeze

Bill
s/v Veranda
Here is one of Stan Rodgers' sea shantys

Northwest Passage

Chorus:
Ah for just one time I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea;
Tracing one warm line through a land so wide and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea.

Westward from the Davis Straight 'tis there 'twas said to lie
The sea route to the Orient for which so many died;
Seeking gold and glory, leaving weathered, broken bones
And a long forgotten lonely cairn of stones.

Chorus

Three centuries thereafter, I take passage over land
In the footsteps of brave Kelso, where his "sea of flowers" began
Watching cities rise before me, then behind me sink again
This tardiest explorer, driving hard across the plain.

Chorus

And through the night, behind the wheel, the mileage clicking West
I think upon MacKenzie, David Thomson and the rest
Who cracked the mountain ramparts and did show a path for me
To race the roaring Frasier to the sea.

Chorus

How then am I so different from the first men through this way?
Like them I left a settled life, I threw it all away.
To seek a Northwest Passage at the call of many men
To find there but the road back home again

Chorus

And if should be I come again to loved ones left at home,
Put the journals on the mantle, shake the frost out of my bones,
Making memories of the passage, only memories after all,
And hardships there the hardest to recall.

Chorus

And for the our fair frends at Female Boat Owners & Sailors of Sea Knots, HERE is the above shanty being sung by the Trafalgar Womens Choir.
PCarrico, did you favor sailing lyrics? I like this one as it presents being bit by the sea...

Quote:
THE DOUBLE LIFE


How very simple life would be

If only there were two of me

A Restless Me to drift and roam

A Quite Me to stay at home.

A Searching One to find his fill

of varied skies and newfound thrill

while sane and homely things are done

By the domestic Other One.


And that’s just where the trouble lies;

there is a restless me that cries

for chancy risks and changing scene,

for arctic blue and tropic green,

for deserts with their mystic spell,

For lusty fun and raising Hell

But shackled to that Restless Me

My Other Self rebelliously

Resists the frantic urge to move.

It seeks the old familiar groove

That habits make. It finds content

with hearth and home–dear prisonment,

With candlelight and well- loved books

and treasured loot in dusty nooks,





With puttering and garden things

And dreaming while a cricket sings

And all the while the Restless One

Insists on more exciting fun,

It wants to go with every tide,

No matter where... just for the ride.

Like yowling cats the selves brawl

Until I have no peace at all.




One eye turns to the forward track,

The other eye looks sadly back.

I’m getting wall-eyed from the strain,

(It’s tough to have an idle brain)

But One says "Stay" and One says "Go"

And One says "Yes" and One says "No"

And One self wants a home and wife

And One self craves a drifter’s life.



The Restless fellow always wins.

I wish my folks had made me twins.



Don Blanding

End quote.
Great poem Mary,
Hopefully everybody can join this thread and make their mark.
Thanks for playing!
~Pete
This is one of the most relevant poems I've ever read! Fantastic!
Something silly, and something a little more somber:

"A sailor travels to many lands,
To anyplace he pleases,
And he always remembers to wash his hands
So he don't catch no diseases."
(PeeWee Herman)

"Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
("Crossing the Bar," Alfred Lord Tennyson)
Oh God! This ocean is so big... and my boat is so small....! UNKNOWN by Arnoldo SV ESpahtal Costa >Rica.
Christmas at Sea
Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand; The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand; The wind was a nor'-wester, blowing squally off the sea; And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

They heard the suff a-roaring before the break of day; But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay. We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout, And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go about.

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North; All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth; All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread, For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared; But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard. So's we saw the cliff and houses and the breakers running high, And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam; The good red fires were burning bright in every longshore home; The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out; And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer; For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year) This day of our adversity was blessèd Christmas morn, And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.

O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there, My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair; And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves, Go dancing round the china plates that stand upon the shelves.

And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me, Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea; And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way, To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessèd Christmas Day.

They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall. "All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call. "By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate, Jackson, cried. . . . ."It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good, And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood; As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night, We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.

And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me, As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea; But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold, Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.
This being the 67th aniversary of Pearl Harbor - a military aniversary, I guess it's okay to post my favorite poem. This poem harkens back to the days of General George Armstrong Custer's 7th Cavalary. I was in the 1/9th Cavalary in RVN, a hundred years later - but the poem lingers on from generation to generation of Cavalarymen.

Fiddlers' Green
Halfway down the trail to Hell, in a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead troopers camped, near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place is known as Fiddlers' Green.
Marching past, straight through to Hell the Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers, Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen dismount at Fiddlers' Green.
Though some go curving down the trail to seek a warmer scene.
No trooper ever gets to Hell ere he's emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink again with friends at Fiddlers' Green.
And so when man and horse go down beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce melee you stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp, just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head and come to Fiddlers' Green.
Here is a Sailor's Christmas Poem- author Unknown...

T'was the night before Christmas, I swung on the hook
With snowflakes a'landing, asleep with my book
When up on the deck I heard footsteps and stuff
"I've been boarded!" I thought, and I tried to be tough

Then down the companionway hatch came a dude
He was dressed like a nut and I thought, "I'm so screwed"
But he laughed and he hummed as he surveyed my junk
So I figured he must be the resident drunk

His eyes were lit up like a junkie on speed
But he gave me a whole bunch of stuff that I need
Like rum and cigars and new charts and a dinghy
And some kind of fancy electrical thingy

I knew it was stolen but I wasn't telling
I just hoped he was giving and wasn't just selling
And I poured him a grog which he downed with a wink
Then I poured one for me (Lord I needed a drink!)

Then he staggered above to the dark snowy night
As I peeked I beheld an incredible sight
Eight tiny dolphins and a beautiful sleigh
And the dude hopped aboard and prepared to make way

The dolphins were ready to power the sled
But the guy raised a ginny and mains'l instead
With a burp and a chuckle he gathered the breeze
And called to the dolphins, now swimming with ease

"Hey Stalker and FEMA and Cancer and Nixon!
Or Stinky and Pepper Spray, Mason, and Dixon!
Or whatever your names are, you cute little fishes,
Here's to every last sailor, my best Christmas wishes!"

As he sailed away leaving a wobbly wake
I hoped he had not many stops left to make
He got close to shore and he soon was aground
But the dolphins proceeded to pull him around

And I heard him exclaim as he sailed out of sight
"Killer whales! …..I'm just kidding, don't be so uptight!"
A friend had this on a plaque on his boat named Windflower.

If I were a bird, and lived on high
I lean on the wind,when the wind came by
I'd say to the wind, when it took me away
That's where I wanted to go today

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