South Eastern Sea of Mekong Delta
The company sent our cargo afloat;
nautilus stand on the rigging, aloft;
it is the dusk time ghosts visit oft,
tearing silences alongside the boat.
Sea roils upon the superstructure,
streaming forecastle to breakwater,
tide hits bullward as a loose cotter,
forces our suspicion for a fracture.
Water entered through the hatch;
-turn ten degrees to haul the wind,
rhythmic heave and a flashing glint,
with a swelling head-sea mismatch.
Winds Beaufort fast on evil squeal,
Iron-like gusts, we bellow the horn;
hulls down, hollers a signal to warn,
of the suffered damage on the keel.
Pump out the water, empty the bilge,
south-eastern sea of Mekong Delta,
the propeller thrusts to land shelter,
aloft the rigging bellow waves bulge.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Related quotes
South Australia
In South Australia I was born
Heave away, Haul away
In South Australia 'round Cape Horn
We're bound for South Australia
Haul away your rolling king
Heave away, Haul away
Haul away oh hear me sing
We're bound for South Australia
As I walked out one morning fair
Heave away, Haul away
'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair
We're bound for South Australia
There's just one thing that's on my mind
Heave away, Haul away
That's leaving Nancy Blair behind
We're bound for South Australia
And as we wallop round Cape Horn
Heave away, Haul away
You'll wish to God you've never been born
We're bound for South Australia
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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`Oh, if that Rainbow up there!
Oh, if that rainbow up there,
Spanning the sky past the hill,
Slenderly, tenderly fair
Shining with colours that thrill,
Oh, if that rainbow up there,
Just for a moment could reach
Through the wet slope of the air
Here where I stand on the beach!
Here where the waves wash the strand,
Swing itself lovingly low,
Let me catch fast with one hand,
Climb its frail rigging and go.
Climb its frail rigging and go?
Where is its haven of rest?
Out in the gleam and the glow
Of the blood-red waves of the West?
Or where the isles of the dawn
Lie on an amethyst sea,
Does it drift, pale and forlorn,
Ghost of the glory I see?
Is there, ah, is there a land
Such as the Icelanders say,
Or past the West's ruddy strand
Or on the edge of the day,
Some undiscovered clime
Seen through a cloud's sudden rift,
Where all the rainbows of Time
Slowly and silently drift?
Some happy port of a sea
Never a world's sail has made,
Where till the earth shadows flee
Never a rainbow may fade.
Oh, if that rainbow up there,
Just for a moment would reach,
Through the wet slope of the air
Here where I stand on the beach.
Here where the waves wash the strand
Swing itself lovingly low,
Let me catch fast with one hand,
Climb its frail rigging and go!
poem by Ethel Turner
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Sea Of Dead Ships
A light from heaven flickers gently on the waves.
As a boat rocks merrily, above a sea of dead men’s graves.
Colours of the rainbows, spread fingers from the shore.
The sea is filled with beauty; it is also filled with lore.
Waves of blue, waves of green cause white waters on a rocky shore.
While the warming sun’s silvery gleam, heals any wanton sore.
Fishing boats, sails afloat, challenge the sparkling foam.
While everyman with heart lured by the sea, tries desperately not to roam.
The sea is my mistress, the sea is my light.
On a cold day’s darkness, the moon must guide me by night.
A sea full of temptation, a sea full of woe.
I set my sails a flight, to meet my friend or foe.
Dark storm clouds gather overhead, waves pound at my wooden boat.
I feel the cold salty shower, fighting wind and tide to keep afloat.
Rigging is now tangled, mast breaks leaving gnarled stump.
Oh, I curse you west wind and my broken water pump.
Water bailed with bucket, from never ending stream.
Oh, I curse the rudder, as it breaks from helm fast and clean.
I curse you mean sea, now I am cast a drift.
On my knees, I pray to heaven, for the wind to dropp and shift.
Days with no food and water, lie ahead of me.
I drift with tide and current, towards the Sargasso Sea.
A sea of weed entangled, around the entrails of dead ships.
Ships of great endurance, asleep on a green desert sit.
Brigand with barnacles galore lay wind beaten on its side.
I wonder what gauntlet, you oh dead ship did ride.
With guns blazing, from aft to fore.
Below your decks, what treasures do you store?
Ships of all shapes and sizes, the Sargasso has you trapped.
The sea of endless weed, never seen, nor ever mapped.
Into your great maw, I drift, helpless without wind.
Is this where I meet my maker?
For all that, I have sinned.
This is no stockade of refuge, no place I want to be.
In a boat without a sail, trapped in the Sargasso Sea.
Oh, let me steal from your great ships.
Wood to repair my sail, then please release me, from this land of bleached bones and windy wail.
Sea of a million raptures, that contains this floating hell.
Please, oh, please release me, from a place to which I fell.
I plead to you ole west wind, blow your saintly scorn.
Free me from this entangled weed, guide me to safe waters warm
Sky of a thousand clouds, darken as the night.
The scorn of the west wind has set my sails a flight.
My boat begins to rock, the bow dips and hails.
The west wind has answered my pleas, blown wind into my sails.
Boat held fast, by weeds tight grip.
I curse you Sargasso Sea, release my now strong boat.
Salty shower pelts my face, as from the weed my boat breaks free, from the Sargasso’s grip and dead ships of the sea.
Trade winds and currents strong, lead me from this sea of dead ships, to a refuge from the storm.
Lead me to still waters grip, so I may chart a way, back to my homeland.
That I may sail your sea, safely for another day.
Lead me back to my loved one, who keeps the fire warm.
So she will not climb widow’s wharf, or reap the widow’s mourn.
Lead me with your warm wind, each step along the way.
Lead me to her arms beckoning and warm, from which I promise I will not stray.
As for you sea of dead ships, you sail with legend and lore.
No more shall I sail with you, or break waters at your shore.
Once you had me firm within your grip, but I broke free of you,
and your sea of dead ships.
Thanks to the west wind that blew.
4 July 1978
poem by David Harris
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The Kessack Ferry-Boat Fatality
'Twas on Friday the 2nd of March, in the year of 1894,
That the Storm Fiend did loudly laugh and roar
Along the Black Isle and the Kessack Ferry shore,
Whereby six men were drowned, which their friends will deplore.
The accident is the most serious that has occurred for many years,
And their relatives no doubt will shed many tears,
Because the accident happened within 200 yards of the shore,
While Boreas he did loudly rail and roar.
The ferry-boat started from the north or Black Isle,
While the gusty gales were blowing all the while
From the south, and strong from the south-west,
And to get to land fclie crew tried their utmost best.
The crew, however, were very near the land,
When the gusts rose such as no man could withstand,
With such force that the ferry-boat flew away
From her course, down into the little bay,
Which opens into the Moray Firth and the river Ness,
And by this time the poor men were in great distress,
And they tried again and again to get back to the pier,
And to save themselves from being drowned they began to fear.
And at last the poor men began to despair,
And they decided to drop anchor where they were,
While the Storm Fiend did angry roar,
And the white-crested billows did lash the shore.
And the water poured in, but was baled out quickly,
And the men's clothes were wet, and they felt sickly,
Because they saw no help in the distance,
Until at last they blew the fog-horn for assistance.
And quickly in response to their cry of distress,
Four members of the coastguard, in coastguard dreys,
Whose station overlooked the scene, put off in a small boat,
And with a desperate struggle they managed to keep her afloat.
Then the coastguards and boat drifted rapidly away,
Until they found themselves in the little bay,
Whilst the big waves washed o'er them, again and again,
And they began to think their struggling was all in vain.
But they struggled on manfully until they came upon a smaller boat,
Which they thought would be more easily kept afloat,
And to which the hawser was soon transferred,
Then for a second time to save the ferrymen all was prepared.
Then the coastguards drifted down alongside the ferry-boat,
And with great difficulty they kept themselves afloat,
Because the big waves were like mountains high,
Yet the coastguards resolved to save the ferrymen or die.
Then at last the ferrymen got into the coastguard boat,
And they all toiled manfully to keep her afloat,
Until she was struck as she rose on the crest of the wave,
Then each one tried hard his life to save.
And the poor men's hearts with grief were rent,
For they were thrown into the merciless sea in a moment,
And out of the eight men two have been saved,
All owing to their swimming abilities, and how they behaved.
Oh! it must have been a fearful sight,
To see them striving hard with all their might
To save themselves from a watery grave,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh and angry did rave.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author
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Friend-Ship
My friendship is sinking,
I'm bailing out water as fast as I can,
Move too quickly the boat will tip over,
Move too slowly the faster it will sink,
Seconds away from abandoning ship,
But there's land in sight,
So close to shore,
Tying a rope to the boat,
Jumping into the water,
The water is so cold,
Pulling the boat to shore,
Moving too slowly,
Waves threatening to take the boat away,
Waves threatening to take me away,
Suddenly the shore seems so far away,
Waves fill the boat with water,
The burden of the weight of the water,
Becomes unbearable,
The rope is pulled out of my hands,
And the boat sinks,
Pulling me under,
I swim to the surface,
Swim to shore,
Once on shore I look back,
There is nothing left of the Friend-ship
poem by Mandy Author2
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I Rigged the Darned Sails and Waiting for the Boisterous Wind!
A 'shoal' boat is one which has a shallow keel, sometimes the keel is winged. This boat is easier to turn and has less inertia. It also can sail in shallower water. However, in heavy weather it may not be as stable as a deep water boat and may capsize more easily.
A Mermaid would be much preferable
For my single cabin?
As she knows the sea well
But do not know how she tangles
With a warm heart of a Man
That's hotter than an Oven?
Sometimes I think the lonesome is better than anything
As you could cry louder than the Ocean
And nobody bothers?
to my fellow seafarer/poet oskar in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Sinking beneath the waves
Battling against the waves we struggled to keep afloat
The winds blew strong and the waves flooded into the boat
The night was far spent and we were tired and weary
then You came walking on the water so strange and eerie.
I wanted to walk by faith and to be with You Lord
so You bid me to come to You and I obeyed Your word.
That first step for me would be a giant leap of faith
but I knew no matter how I felt You'd keep me safe.
Despite that all around me the wind and sea did roar
I wished to walk in places I'd never walked before.
So that great step I took and I was out of the boat
and though the winds and waves bellowed I was still afloat.
But then I took my eyes off You and was petrified
I was sinking beneath the waves, 'Lord save me, ' I cried.
I'm safe now from that raging storm for You heard me
reaching out You saved me from lifes tempestuous sea.
***********
When lifes' waves overwhelm me as sometimes they do
I'm so glad Lord Jesus that I can call out to You.
At times when my faith is weak and I begin to doubt
it is then dear Lord that You reach down and lift me out.
Written after reading Mathew 14: 22-33
The Ballad of the 'Britain's Pride
It was a skipper of Lowestoft
That trawled the northern sea,
In a smack of thrice ten tons and seven,
And the
Britain's Pride
was she.
And the waves were high to windward,
And the waves were high to lee,
And he said as he lost his trawl-net,
'What is to be, will be.'
His craft she reeled and staggered,
But he headed her for the hithe,
In a storm that threatened to mow her down
As grass is mown by the scythe;
When suddenly through the cloud-rift
The moon came sailing soft,
And he saw one mast of a sunken ship
Like a dead arm held aloft.
And a voice came faint from the rigging-
'Help! help!' it whispered and sighed-
And a single form to the sole mast clung,
In the roaring darkness wide.
Oh the crew were but four hands all told,
On board of the
Britain's Pride
,
And ever 'Hold on till daybreak!'
Across the night they cried.
Slowly melted the darkness,
Slowly rose the sun,
And only the lad in the rigging
Was left, out of thirty-one,
To tell the tale of his captain,
The English sailor true,
That did his duty and met his death
As English sailors do.
Peace to the gallant spirit,
The greatly proved and tried,
And to all who have fed the hungry sea
That is still unsatisfied;
And honour and glory for ever,
While rolls the unresting tide,
To the skipper of little Lowestoft,
And the crew of the
Britain's Pride
.
poem by William Watson
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The thing about rigging is, you can learn it if you become a master rigger but there's no book on rigging.
quote by Richard Serra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Storm At Sea
Below us there was a rising and falling,
Waves of breadth claimed a devastation;
The comical waters were customs and beliefs,
Persuading us as sailors to listen and learn
To the lapping of the ocean on the boat’s hull.
It sounded a pity to see a little water on your soul
And body and boat, the reality was immensely disgusting.
It disgusted them when gusts of the greatest winds
Formed density and texture of a gale,
This compelled them to squint at the hidden sun
For more waves and more water to be hidden.
Treating them kindly after a sunset,
The night waters sprayed juice and venom as well.
poem by Naveed Akram
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0012 'Only one life was lost in this disaster
The water’s not so deep
down here, it’s still stirred
on the sea-bed by the off-shore tide.
The seaweed waves in slow rhythm, almost gracefully.
Sometimes a crab, going somewhere not apparent
with laborious stubborn intent
displaces very slightly the bone-white skeleton
lying on its back, almost relaxed, almost temporary,
as if waiting for time to give some signal
to turn those stark claws back into a son’s hands
or the current turns a few degrees the eyeless head,
the young jaw, as a light sleeper
in a dream, submissive to the tide;
peaceful; down here
in this filtered light
death, grief, tears, a mother's memories
seem unknown, have no place.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Wet Day In July
Such wild and chilly weather with heavy showers of sleety rain
That flood the spouting and the creek and the storm water drain
And the paddocks around the Powlett river seem like an inland sea
And water everywhere about as far as the eyes can see.
The old bloke Mick scratches his head as he looks up at the sky
Saying more rain clouds o'er the ocean 'twill make a wet
July
On either side of the highway from Bass into Wonthaggi there's water everywhere
The paddock by our house is waterlogged 'tis like a quagmire there.
In July in south west Gippsland the weather often wild and cold and wet
But according to Mick from Bass this one the wettest yet
In more than sixty years of life he has known big rainfall
But yesterday is the wettest day he ever can recall.
In the paddocks between Kilcunda and Dalyston water everywhere about
And the Powlett river is overflowing it's banks and it's surplus water is flooding out
Making the land look like an inland sea and cattle on the hill bellow for hay
And in the coastal lands of south west Gippsland another rainy July day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Keep Your Lure In The Water
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
The lord said, "Simon, haul your nets in
From now on you're a fisher of men"
Well, I like fishin',
That's why it caught my ear
The Lord knew how to get to me
And what I'd need to hear
Chous:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
--- Instrumental ---
Well the sea is troubled
And it's hard to stay afloat
And you feel like Jesus
Is sleeping in the boat
Don't you dare give up
On the Prince of Peace
And in the middle of the storm
You will find a sweet release
Chorus:
Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Chorus:
Yeah, Keep your lure in the water,
Don't just sit by the shore
There are souls to be caught
Everywhere in this old world
Go where hearts are plenty,
Don't just drift with the tide
Keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life
Yeah, keep your lure in the water,
In the waters of life...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On a stormy sea
When the waves of the sea
became bigger and the wind
started to blow at storm strength,
the boat didn’t sail anymore
and it rocked in the waves
bobbing up and down in the water.
The men were afraid of death
while the Christ
walked on the stormy sea between the waves,
scared to sink and afraid of drowning
and also of seeing a ghost
appearing on the water,
but His calm voice brought serenity
to the wind, waves, sea and men on the boat.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Tempest
It started out a bright sunny day
as on his boat he sailed.
The wind in his hair, the sun on his face
the salty sea air was inhaled.
He'd learned how to master the giant waves.
He'd sailed with his dad in a squall.
He'd been taught to bravely face a storm.
He lived for it since he was small.
He saw the gulls aloft in the air.
He watched their flight and thought
'I feel as free as those white-winged birds, '
happy with what he'd been taught.
The time went fast. He glanced at his watch
and then he searched the sky.
Off in the distance he saw dark clouds
and turned towards shore with a sigh.
All around darkness closed in
and the winds and rains did blow.
He struggled to keep his boat aright
and his fear started to grow.
This can't be. He loved the sea
but the violence in the sea had spread.
He tried to think calmly and heard his dad.
'Don't fight it son or you're dead.'
He could not see to steer with care.
The waves broke over his head.
He tied his body to the boat he loved
and thought about being dead.
Bruised and battered but breathing still
he prayed with all his might.
And with the darkness came God's answer.
'Sail away with me into the night, '
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Bellow Can Only Be Bellow
BELLOW CAN BE ONLY BELLOW
Bellow can only be Bellow
Kierkegaard-Kierkegaard
Kafka- Kafka
Joyce- Joyce
Borges- Borges
Pessoa-Pessoa
There is only one of each of us-
And no matter how many pages we write
And how many names we give ourselves and our own characters
No matter how many styles we invent
Each one is only one-
And so this small poem too
Will not be for anyone else
Any more or other
Than so much else
Which has already failed to give me the kind of name
Only the truly great have-.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There Are Waves Breaking Foaming Around Me
There are waves breaking foaming around me
hitting with angry power,
while a storm is unleashed on the sea and in my life,
a boat in the distance is twisting as if it is sinking
while it is dangerously recoiling up and down
with stormy winds bashing at it,
it seems as if it is going to disappear under the swelling water
and still You are there to protect that boat and me
and today I want to make You the helmsman of my life,
I ask You to steer me safely to the harbour of rest,
I pray that You will protect me in my ways
and like that boat I am missing on a stormy sea
where only Your almighty hand
can bring me safely to land, to the other side of darkness.
poem by Gert Strydom
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On Blood, Water, and Other Fluids of Varying Density
Blood is thicker than water
So they say
But so is jam, and honey,
And mercury, and porridge, and-
Let’s just say a lot of things
Are thicker than water.
Blood is thicker than water
So they say
But there’s ‘a friend who sticks closer than a brother’-
So is that a ‘water’ or a ‘blood’,
Or a watered-down ‘blood’
Or a bloodied-up ‘water’?
There are many kinds of friends-
Depending on their circulations-
Indeed, some are so thick
They need nuclear-powered hearts
Just to pump all that tar
To all parts of their bodies
Women of steel and iron men…
So when you turn around,
And your friend has ‘got your back’;
Then you wind up with six inches of dagger
Sticking from it-
Don’t worry; it’s perfectly explainable-
They just wanted to see what kind of fluid
Runs through YOUR veins…
I don't even like to talk about it. I hated being a number and not merely because I was a very small one. I let them bellow at me for just as long as it took me to find enough pluck to bellow back at them.
quote by George Grosz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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