Follow by Email

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Karachi To Seychelles

It's a trip worth making,
The promise of a
Rare resort,
An island paradise
In the midst of nowhere,
Or darned near
A decent port visit,

You get to go alone,
Pray for good weather,
Eleven hundred miles
In a tin can.
Karachi to Seychelles,
We have enough fuel,
But not too much.

We get lucky,
The sea is like glass,
We see no other ship for days,
But we do have a surprise guest,
We are in company with
An owl.

Is he bad luck?
Sailors are superstitious,
But we like the company
On the empty sea.
He circles us all day.
Clockwise, always clockwise.
Riding air currents,
At yardarm level,
Never higher,
Appearing to forever be eying us,
Airborne whenever I come on deck,
Those wings never move.
Does he never rest?
Presumably at dusk.
He's on deck at dawn,
Back on station.

An obstacle stands in our way,
We must cross the line,
We've only thirty some shell backs,
And they have
One hundred and eighty plus
Pollywogs to process.

Does some fool really try
To see how the toilets
When we are on
The equator?
We use flushometers,
You fool.
They always flush
King Neptune summons you.

We pass a single ship along the way,
One tramp steamer,
The entire trip,
En route home port,
A rust bucket.
This passes for excitement?

Finally, Mahe in sight,
The home island,
Deep water,
Easy anchorage.
We arrive with
Nineteen per cent fuel.
We are grateful for
Perfect weather.
Without it we'd be
Suckin' fumes.

What are those?
Soviet fishing boats?
What are they doing there?
Who cares?
go ashore,
To the beach,
To the hotel,
All kinds of
Satellite calls home,
The Seychelloise are
So proud of their
Ground station,
And we are so
Pleased to use it!

Let us not have to leave,
It's a long way back to the Gulf,
And the reward is so
Very minimal.

Exercise for the student:
Compare and contrast,
Seychelles and Bandar Abbas,
That garden spot,
Of Iran,
Tongue in cheek,
As required.

No comments:

Post a Comment