Sunday May 5, 2013 10:00 am
Dead Calm, The Fishing Line is out
Soo much for predicting the future especially
when wind is involved. Contrary to all predictions and our expectations the wind
shifted to east and eventually died down overnight. We took the spinnaker down
around 11:00 pm and started motor sailing towards our course. It rained a little
bit and the air got quite humid and hot. We switched watch at 3:00 am to give
the Skipper an extra hour of sleep for the time lost during the sail change.
After a fitful sleep I woke up to a dead calm with the ocean around us flat as a
glass surface shimmering in the light of the early morning sun. The fishing line
is out but so far there is no action to report. If we ever catch one you will be
the first one to hear. I am not really holding my breath after the experience of
the last trip but you never know, maybe the ocean will grant us one or two of
her denizens.
As some of you well know motor sailing
is a pretty monotonous affair and there is not a lot happening on the boat which
leaves plenty of time for idle contemplation. By sending the first few verses of
John Masefield’s charming poem,
Steve reminded me once again that a few well said words will trump my meager,
meandering musings every time. I happened to have this wonderful poem on my
computer along with other literature of the sea and I am going to share it with
you as a special Sunday treat:
“ Sea Fever
I must go 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 go 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 go 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.”
From Salt Water Poems and Ballads by
John Masefield (1878-1967)
Of course the “word smith” that Steve
is, he changed the “grey dawn breaking” to “grey hairs thinning”, no doubt
referring to the two old men on Traveling Light; but these “two old men” still
have hair on their heads(!) although admittedly thinning a bit lately
J. As for me I would thank my fortune if I can be that
“fellow-rover “spinning that “merry yarn” with a smile on his
face…