As the ship slips down the wave,s back ,into the next one ,I can,t help but think of home ,and the sparkling blue waters visible from my bedroom window.She is climbing the wave front,to burst out on a flurry of sun sparkling,rainbowing spray. this is my home now.
Why does man go to sea? I think this as I feel her roll and pitch.The ship reacts to the sea like a living thing , NOT,a compendium of steel,wood and canvas. Of course we, her crew, give her life. Now she shudders as she buries her bow in a bigger wave. Where are the ships that would grace heaven. Are they glistening white,with pearlescent sails?
these thoughts assail me and----RIIIIIING-Darned alarm !! Tanker-builder