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Thread: Nootka Sound Return

  1. #1
    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    Location
    Victoria, BC, Canada
    Posts
    1,237

    Default Nootka Sound Return

    A poetic offering for the beginning of September.

    Pale dawn light breaks with song of thrush and wren,
    Tucked behind small island in McBride Bay.
    Anchor fouled; I was lucky once again.
    Sport fish boats speed, full throttle, on their way,
    Missing subtle charm of forest and shore,
    To reach some spot where they plan to go slow.
    Tahsis Inlet heights, where stern eagles soar,
    Through rain clouds threat, brief gaps of bright sun glow.

    Sea otters float, ignore my intrusion,
    Smash their bivalves with shocking violence.
    Best bays blocked due to fish farms exclusion,
    Yes, we need protein but this makes no sense.
    Converted mine sweep, Uchuck III, on her way,
    Sheís an old friend, a reassuring sight.
    Alongside Gore Island, will the breeze stay?
    Wind holds through the gap, sweat halyards up tight.

    Five knots straightaway, weíre nearly hull speed,
    If we hit six then itís time to reef down.
    Sunís out now with dappled cloud above peaks.
    The scene is sublime, no place for a frown.
    Now speed is more than six, sometimes seven,
    Wind over transom tops more than twenty.
    Reef time once more, round up and drop the main,
    Straight to third reef, though small, itís still plenty.

    Weíre on a tear now, still way too much sail,
    Furl up the mizzen, blowing twenty five.
    A glance at the chart, thereís no place to bail;
    Shouldnít be here - can I get out alive?
    Canít reef any more so hang on and steer,
    The boat picks up her skirts and off she planes.
    Speedís up past nine now, beginnings of fear,
    First time this quick, maybe never again.

    The wharf and launch ramp are approaching fast,
    How the hell to pull off dropping the rig?
    Sheltered a bit by the point once Iím past,
    There lies my hope, where the swellís not too big.
    Throw the helm over, shoot in to the lee,
    Water is flatter, the wind still blows hard.
    Wrestle the sail down on a still rough sea,
    The sail wonít behave Ďtil I grab the yard.

    Strike both the masts and ship both of the oars,
    From broadside on, try to heave the stern round,
    She wants to broach - but one short strong pull more,
    Iím hard by the quay, for the ramp inbound.
    A dock hand shouts: Were you sailing out there?
    In those waves, in that little boat I see?
    You bet, I reply, just for fun, I swear,
    Although it may not be your cup of tea.

    On final approach the wind is no more,
    The heat off the land exhales in great gouts.
    Tie up the boat, drag my tired butt ashore,
    Excitementís done, now itís time to chill out.


    Alex Zimmerman


    This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License (CC BY-NC-ND)
    Alex

    "ďHe was unfamiliar with the sea and did not like it much: it was a place that made you cold and wet and sickĒ " Nevil Shute, Trustee From the Toolroom

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Jan 2009
    Location
    northwestern Wisconsin
    Posts
    4,752

    Default Re: Nootka Sound Return

    Alex,

    I loved it--thanks. "How the hell will I pull off dropping the rig?" sounds very familiar...

    Tom
    You don't have to be prepared as long as you're willing to suffer the consequences.

    www.tompamperin.com

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    Location
    Victoria, BC, Canada
    Posts
    1,237

    Default Re: Nootka Sound Return

    Quote Originally Posted by WI-Tom View Post
    Alex,

    I loved it--thanks. "How the hell will I pull off dropping the rig?" sounds very familiar...

    Tom
    Thanks Tom.

    In my view poetry doesn't have be about esoteric subjects and it should rhyme (at least most of the time).
    Alex

    "ďHe was unfamiliar with the sea and did not like it much: it was a place that made you cold and wet and sickĒ " Nevil Shute, Trustee From the Toolroom

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