There’s a ship off in the distance.
Sailing westward as she goes.
We’re still heading eastbound,
As the time begins to slow.
A lonely ship is all I see,
There must be others keeping pace.
Just two ships in the ocean
Doesn’t seem a likely case.
I know the Atlantic is vast,
But I’m just a bit amazed
How much time we seem to be alone,
While churning through the waves.
The Cutty Sark made seventeen knots,
From London Town to China.
She used the wind to carry tea.
For a time, there were none finer.
The clipper ships were eclipsed
By new ships powered by steam.
The steamship beat the ships with sails,
But sails are still a sailor’s dream.
So, today I’m doing twenty knots,
With diesel-electric power down below.
Three knots faster than the Cutty Sark.
Is it such a better way to go?
Someone said (a long time ago),
“Go West, Young Man!”
Words of travel wisdom.
The direction of progress, if you can.
The reason you go West
Is simple as can be.
You gain an hour almost every day,
As you sail across the sea.
Sailing East usually means
You’re looking a bit dour
(If you’re somewhat European)
Plus, you lose a freakin’ hour.
Losing an hour a day sucks.
It’s why people fly over the seas.
Planes are not as romantic as ships,
Just yank that Band-Aid off at once, please.
Yesterday, 146,000 gross tons of metal became the Norwegian Breakaway.
(The metal was assembled in 73 blocks. I learned that onboard.)
This seems really strange, since we have been sailing on her for a week.
Still, technicalities are important at sea, and now she has been christened.
Now, she is a ship.
We were just on a test drive.
It was an interesting week. A fun week. A long and short week.
I never got seasick. I was a bit queasy in the “fresh gale” winds.
(If you feel queasy sailing, go outside, look at the horizon and breathe.)
Now, I’m home.
I’m going to work today.
I was home yesterday, even though I tried to catch up on work.
Reading emails all day. Trying to fix the home mail server.
I was bad and skipped my one meeting.
Still, a long day staring at the screen.
It’s easier on the eyes to stare at the ocean.
Or a daiquiri.
So, now I’m on solid ground.
Nothing rocks me to sleep any more.
I don’t walk like I’m drunk.
(OK, maybe I was drunk.)
Still, the queasiness remains.
I think I’m landsick.
Waves crashing around me.
It’s the water in the pool.
Maybe this isn’t that bad a storm.
In olden times,
Knots on a rope measured speed.
Meat was salted for preservation.
Sailors wore earrings to pay for funerals.
It’s different these days.
They have refrigerators
If you forgot an earring,
Check the sale at the gift shop.
The Captain still uses knots, though.
Jimmy Buffett looked at the sea
When he turned forty.
He was a pirate, two hundred years too late.
So are all the bankers and dentists
That go to his concerts.
Actually, they’re just getting drunk.
I am not a pirate, unfortunately.
I am not even a sailor.
I’m just along for the ride,
And waiting for a margarita.
Wrong Jimmy Buffett song.
Today, a haiku of the sea. Did you know there are about 15 bars on the Norwegian Breakaway?
Waves crashing all around.
Seasickness is approaching.
Not a hang-over.
Out in the Atlantic,
Rocking with the waves.
Wind is gaining strength.
Time to leave the balcony.
Bit harder to walk around,
As we weave from side to side.
Like sailors of yore,
Hold on somewhere.
I’ve never been in gale-force winds.
Think it’s time to hunker down,
Hoping it will pass.
At least it’s not raining any more.
Now, a truly frightening issue.
With the wind and waves,
The WiFi connection is questionable.
A storm at sea is one thing.
No Facebook is a crisis.