The Ballad of Coastal Bend

‘Twas eleven o’clock in the morning and five days out at sea,
When a large black cloud on radar showed a storm ahead of me.
My brain called out a warning, a turbulent sea no doubt.
Wondering if I should continue or should I come about?

By four o’clock that afternoon I’d realized my mistake,
I was too far out to come about, I’d waited much too late.
With the mainsail dropped, I ran with the jib, as I knew the worst was near.
With sledgehammer blows, of incredible force, it was nigh impossible to steer.

So with indecision I made a decision, I’d stay aboard to the end.
Sinking deeper and deeper to meet the Grim Reaper, I was ready to meet a new friend.
I was holding my breath while waiting for death as the water was well over head.
I wanted to shout but I had no clout, in fact I was nearly dead.

The boat degree, lay fifty to lee, held down by the broken mast.
So I cut the mast free, with all the debris, she rolled over and came up fast.
With a system of block, shackles and chock, I pulled the boom on deck.
I reclaimed some sail that was ragged and frail, and slowly I salvaged the wreck.

The sunset came like a burning flame from a horizon on display.
As the sea backed down it lost its crown, the crown of windblown spray.
The wind and sea had tortured me and punished the boat with scorn.
The storm had passed, we had won at last, and a new day then was born.

I had lost all gear that would help to steer a course for a homeward run.
But I laid out a plan that would sail us to land I’d steer by the stars and sun.
For seven days we were castaways, while searching the horizon line.
It had been a love affair of time and repair, yet emotionally hard to define.

The final approach was the squall covered coast, as the seabirds did abound.
But the question in mind was how do I find, what part of the Coast we had found!
So slowly we proceeded as the storm receded and found a miracle that day.
For what we achieved is hard to believe, but there we were in the Bay!

I’m not denying, it sounds like I’m lying,
But this whole story is true.
Looking back on that date, I pondered our fate,
And wondered, whose hand had seen us through….’

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One comment for “Navigator’s Notebook – Tidbits of Useless Information. by RB DeMers – Sailing since Moby Dick was a minnow.”

1
S'nJ'n Grimm

taller than the tall sailing ships, these tales of the sea,
have a way of gripping, perplexing and humbling me.

April 28th, 2022 at 5:08 am

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