Lines on the Voyage of Sailing Yacht
‘Twas on the twenty-fifth of November two
thousand and seven
That we cast off from Las Palmas at about
As we slowly motored towards the
The weather was already
considerably less than fine,
And when the starting gun was
heard to fire,
We realized we had committed
ourselves to something dire.
As we sailed off south during
The winds became more than
But gradually we sailed clear of
the island’s lee,
And made our way into the open
And now again the thought struck
That an extremely long voyage had
To while away the days while
weather was fine,
We keenly cast our brand new
No sooner did the lure pass out
Than we felt the first dorado’s
We little thought we could have
lost a limb,
When we marked the halfway point
with a short swim.
Next day the boat was circled by
Explaining why swimming is not
recommended by the ARC.
And when we reeled in two-thirds
of an Atlantic Bonito,
All further thoughts of a dip
We thought that downwind sailing
was a thrill electric,
Until a gust destroyed our
But our spinnaker fulfilled our
need for speed,
Until a squall did us a dirty
So now our progress became more
Till once more overtaken by a
Stormclouds stretched far as eye
And horizontal rain dispelled any
remaining feelings of glee.
But at the worst moment of the
A hero appeared in mechanical
Some say he has sailed upside
down round Cape Horn –
All we know is that without our
autopilot Alfie we would have been forlorn.
And so as we approach the finish
Our thoughts turn to consumption
of declarable stocks of spirits and wine.
And as we wait for
Lucia’s outline to appear,
Our voyage is set to end on
a note of seasonal cheer.