| Poems |
I must go into the yard again, to the lonely yard on the dry,
And all I ask is a hauled boat and a disc to sand her by,
And the mixing stick and the sander's song and the paint can shaking,
And a gray mist on the skipper's face and a great budget breaking.
I must go into the yard again, for the drag of the growing slime
Is a slow drag like a green shag that delays arrival time;
And all I ask is no rainy days with the yard's meter ticking,
And no dropped tools and no blown cools and no old fittings sticking.
I must go into the yard again, to the toxic hazard life,
To the M-E-K and the E-P-A where the fume's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a fast sail home with a laughing fellow rover
And a quiet sleep and a long dream when the long haulout's over.
"Join Mastweld"
We found this parody of John Masefield's "Sea Fever" in a magazine several years ago. Sailors dislike the time that must be spent with boats out of water for repairs. Repainting the bottom of the boat with antifouling paints to discourage barnacles, weeds and other marine organisms is an annual chore for many.
Click to read “Sea Fever” by John Masefield
Click to read “Sea-Chill” a parody by Arthur Guiterman
Click to read “Electric Fever” by Jerry