Past Poetry

[Alchera]

Past poetry from Bill Stettiner, 2000 SSS TransPac. In case you haven't read it digging through the archives... the 'Michael' he refers to is Mike Jefferson on Foxx Fyre, the fleet authority on fixing anything.

ENDEAVOR to PERSEVERE

by Bill Stettiner
June 27, 2000 S/V Tainted Love 35:19 N Lat. 128.05 W Long.

The furler is broke
I must go forward to fix
I hope I don't drown


What size fasteners
Michael will know, he knows all
I will call him now.


To the radio
Foxxfyre this is Tainted Love
How are you doing?


I am fine Michael
I have a question for you
Do you know Harken?


I need to find screws
for the damn furling torque tube
What size go in there?


The screws that you seek
10-32 by quarter
Three will suit your needs.


I do not have those
What else might work do you think?
How about duct tape?


Duct Tape will not do;
tap the hole 1/4-20
and use what you have.


Drill the hole with care
The material is thin
Use lots of lube please.


I always hear that
You and the gerbils agree
What is with my life?


The drill bit to use
is 13/64
Do you have one there?


Time to scare Michael
I do not have a drill here
what else can I do?


On the radio
Ken Roper sends "Get it done!"
I guess I should go.


Armed with the duct tape
and some screws that are wrong
I head forward now.


The screws are too small
Oh crap! What will I do now?
Wrap the tape around them.


Jam them in the holes
Cut the threads into the tape.
I hope this will work.


Success with the first
now I must try the second
Damn it! I dropped it!


Into the ocean
the little screw has fallen
I must be careful.


Now I have two left
tape the screw to the driver
and try to finish.


Wow the screws are in
wrap them with tape and I'm done
Time to go back aft.



Bill Stettiner, S/V Tainted Love TransPac 2000

 

[Alchera]

Here's another one...

Seafood

by Bill Stettiner
June 30, 2000 S/V Tainted Love Lat N33:04, Long W135:25

Running through the night.
Hear strange noises up on deck.
I should take a look.


Wind and water churn.
Noises from all directions.
What has just flown by?


There in the mainsail.
See the fear deep in it's eyes.
It has come for me.


Damn, a sneak attack.
I'll not go without a fight.
Where is my bucket?


On the deck they run.
I chase them'round with lemon.
Well, they started it.


I lose the bucket.
But please do not tell Michael.
He might throw a head.


Flip, flop, scamper, squish.
I catch them before they leave.
Now, they will know fear.


Yes, I will kill them.
And add them to my Ramen.
Oh, calimari.



Bill Stettiner, S/V Tainted Love TransPac 2000

 

[blighbaum]

Not my sentiments at all, but a good bit of doggerl:

How pleasant to gaze on the sailors
As their sailboats they manfully sail
With the vigor of the vikings or whalers
In the days of the vikings and whales
They sport on the brink of the shad and the shark
If it's windy they sink, if it isn't they park
How pleasant to gaze on the sailors
To gaze, without having to sail!

- Ogden Nash

 

[sleddog]

Not my sentiments at all, but a good bit of doggerl:

How pleasant to gaze on the sailors
As their sailboats they manfully sail
With the vigor of the vikings or whalers
In the days of the vikings and whales
They sport on the brink of the shad and the shark
If it's windy they sink, if it isn't they park
How pleasant to gaze on the sailors
To gaze, without having to sail!

- Ogden Nash

With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done:
No letters to answer,
No bills to be burned,
No work to be shirked,
No cash to be earned,
It is pleasant to sit on the boat
With nothing to do but to float.
How pleasant to look at the ocean,
Democratic and damp; indiscriminate;
It fills me with noble emotion
To think I am able to swim in it.
To lave in the wave,
Majestic and chilly,
Tomorrow I crave;
But today it is silly.
It is pleasant to sail on the ocean;
Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall swim in it.

 

[AlanH]

Maybe I should put up the stuff from my 1996 crossing, even though it wasn't part of the race. It was the first poetry I wrote, after years of putting down my pen.

 

[blighbaum]

You're a poet?
We didn't know it!

 

[AlanH]

You're a poet?
We didn't know it!

but my feet show it.

They Long fellows.

Har.

I used to announce the yearly limerick on channel 68 during every three bridge Fiasco, whenever I rounded the first mark.

My friends, it's the Three Bridge Fiasco
and I'm here to take you to task-oh!
Your spinnaker you'll set
only to get it all wet
when you COULD be drinking tequilla and tabasco!

As the years went by they got lamer and lamer. There are only so many things that rhyme with "fiasco".