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A few days at sea, the good old days, a former life. |
The Sea, The Sea Green waves sweep across the bow, egged on by the wind, grabbing what it can reach, stretching Not a star in the sky, total darkness that can be felt, bitter in the mouth Running down a trough, climbing to the top, over and over again, endless night Turning, I make my way aft, staggering, bouncing off the bulkhead like a pinball In the distance there is music, a counterpoint to the sounds of things crashing Six meals a day, three down and 3 up, there is no shame, we clutch our plastic bags, curse We spent the first dog watch cleaning up, making repairs, licking our wounds, dreaming of home The sea is a hard mistress, voluptuous and giving, yet possessing a cold shoulder, the ruin of a man All is forgotten, all is forgiven, a new watch on deck Today, our bellies are full, BBQ steak, rare, enough to split a gut, baked potatoes, corn Beer cans adorn the tables, dice, cards, tall tales to frighten the new shell-backs, sons of Neptune The sea anchor holds us in place as we bob on a glass sea, spread out endlessly toward the horizon The deck is hot on the feet, in the air the smell of diesel, scented with the mysteries of the Orient Fishermen try their luck, for the winner, a night in Kowloon, all expenses paid Blood, raw meat tossed over the side, a come on for sharks and other sea life, the trap is set Some watch for a bit, but soon drift back to the steel beach, to catch a few rays, visit with lady luck A cry goes up, heard from stem to stern, we got one, a real beauty, Jaws Rubberneckers close up, yet keeping their distance, better a bad view then offer up a limb Thrashing on the deck was a white tipped reef shark, devoid of any love, towering rage Almost two meters in length with a sleek body and bearing a toothy grin, it's mind racing Bulging eyes scanning the two legged fish, looking for it's next meal, desiring the salt of the sea Some felt sorry for the magnificent fish, others were looking for blood A two-by-four upside the head made short shrift of the fun, the lucky winner We make way, the feel of the engines, the splashing of salty water against the rusty sides The air is hot, we sweat to keep cool, all go about there task, or toss in their bunks Stars pepper the roundness of the heavens, that only a sailor can see New found wealth in unreadable bills, resting uneasily in pockets, itching to be parted with Listen, the land calls, leering and luring sea pups and old hands, alike Soon we will leave our mistress, have some fun, a run ashore, as it is called In the end, we all crawl back to her open arms, it is the only life we know |