I’ve sailed on seas in all it’s different guises,
There were mill pond calm East African waters,
With bare an inch of movement and
Whence the flying fishes performed
Their acrobatic feats for me alone.
Above us the most astounding and outstanding
Crimson, golden hues that take sunsets
To another point, another time, an experience
Never to be displayed for me again.
As far from that idyllic scene as it can be,
Imagine if you can the thunderous ‘Bay’.
To navigate Biscay’s Bay
When wind and tides and beating rain
Turn it into a tumult of menace and fear
That would not be out of place if
T’were found at Hades gates.
The ship she bucks, she tosses and turns
As if she were a bull let out the gate for this maritime rodeo.
It’s riders struggling inside it’s hull
To remain upright and with hopes of steering clear
Of the debilitating and utterly draining sickness
Caused to some, though never I.
Caused to some, though never I.
These two extremes I have seen, have sailed,
Have lived, have loved
And felt nought but total exhilaration with both.
As with every other nautical mile traveled,
On seas that fell between these two superb extremes.
Opposites attract and,
If a man has the this salty brine cursing though his being
He can do nothing other than to follow his destiny.
His destiny is, and always will be, defined and lead by the SEA!
