Thoughts of the sea

As I used to be a Captain, and always had a romance with the sea, my mind frequently visits my past onboard the metal blades which easily cut through the blue water and were guided by dolphins.

My mind often daydreams and envisions life before the age of diesel, before the age of steam.

At times, I imagine myself on the quarterdeck of some clipper, plying my way to China at breakneck speed to sell my cargo and make it back to New York for a favorable return. The new sights, the adventures when onshore, the trials of working on a ship under the best and worst conditions that nature can throw at a sailor, all stir my spirit in a revelry which can only be encountered during a life at sea.

Today I write a poem by John Masefield (1878-1967) to honor him, the sea and all of those who plied their trade on the waves, for better or for worse.

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 no 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 a quiet sleep and a swet dream when the long trick's over.


May Lady Luck's gales fill your sails.

Carpe diem.