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It Was A Dory Without A Story

There were rough seas at night,
But they did not keep me awake
For long.


The lighthouse keeper’s house
Has thick, stone walls
Like the lighthouse itself.
Built to last.


I snored away.


But the next day,

Which is clear but full of

Rough seas.


I walk the shore
Of Partridge Island,
To see what’s

Been blown in.


There’s always something.


Today, there is a dory,
As pristine as if someone
Had just rowed her here.


Though there are no
Oars.
Or any other item,
Or name on bow.
Barely a trace

Of water, awash

On it’s flat bottom.


I doubt I’ll ever
Know its origin,
Or its history.


In a couple of months
It’s mine to keep.

‘m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL sea,lighthouse,history,poem,poetry,harbor,harbour,Partridge Isl

The Mermaid Is My Girl / With Her Tail In A Curl

When I hear
The Mermaid
Singing,
She sings for me.


She comes to the rocks,
At the base of my Lighthouse,
And sighs
And sings
And fills the froth
With her frothy voice.


She doesn’t try to lure me,
But to calm me
On my way to sleep,
Or on my return to wakefulness.


Always at the twilight
Of night,
Or the dusk
Of dawn.
So I have never seen her,


Which I assume

Is her intent.


She knows my desire
Is to pursue,
And also knows
I would perish
On the rocks.


We need
Each other
Alive.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

Sailors With Heads Of Stone And Bloodshot Eyes Leave Port

Just as these sailors,


On A Friday night,


Were overjoyed when they


Entered the port,

Sailing past my Lighthouse


With smiles and cheers,


For a weekend where they


Could


– And would –


Let loose


In all those ways


That sailors do.


Now they return to the sea

,
With full days of


Hard and harsh work


To test their mettle.


No smiles now.


They barely look my way.


Nary a cheer,


Nary a wave,


And I,


The lighthouse keeper


Of the Lighthouse


On Partridge Island,


Bow solemnly


At their passage.


I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

The Inviting Lights Glow On A Friday Night In A Distant Port

Except the port is


Not that distant.


I don’t even need


My spyglass


To see the street lamps


Well-lit,


Especially the Three Sisters Lamp,


Lined up straight with


The steeple of Trinity Church


To give the captains


Of the ships


Somewhere to aim.


For they all aim,


Past me,


In my lighthouse


At the mouth


Of the harbour.

.
And they all


Go past me


To safe haven

,
And Friday night


Deviltry and celebration,


And rum galore!


Whilst I can


Only watch


From a distance.

{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2021 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}
DE BA. UEL

Razzle Dazzle, Oh Mighty Monarch of the Sky

{I’m The Lighthouse 

Poet Laureate of Partridge Island

1821 – 2021

A lot of stuff have I seen

A lot of stuff to report}

I opened the door

At the bottom of 

My spiral staircase

Twisting

Beside the wall

Just white-washed

In the Spring.


And


Oh! And!!

Came out into 

A sea

A forest

A  cacophony

Of orange

And black

And white-spotted

Brilliant-winged

MONARCH butterflies.


They covered the edifice

From Light

To Entrance steps,

Soaking up


The heat

Of the stones.


I grabbed my trusty

Bum-worn

Wooden chair

And moved it

Distant enough

To watch the

Whole structure at once.


I’m still sitting.


~ DE BA, UEL.

Alison Alexandra And Amanda Ponder A Seaman’s Help For A Storm At Sea

“It is a dark and stormy night.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

“But it could be.”

“Could it – if it isn’t?”

“Oh – I think so.”

“Well … maybe – possibly.”

“Oh – think of the possibilities.”

“On such a night?”

“Yes.”

“In such darkness?”

“Yes.”

“With a storm raging.”

“Oh – such a storm.”

“Putting us at the whims of the ocean toss.”

“Tossing our good barque – yes.”

“Will Ellerton save us?”

“Ellerton has his other duties to the safekeeping of the ship.”

“He won’t come knocking with his manly hand upon the door?’

“No.”

“Not to direct us to our lifeboat station?”

“If he comes knock knock knocking with his manly hand upon my door, he won’t find me there.”

“He will get no response to his manly knock?”

“No.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I will be in here with you.”

“On a dark and stormy night?”

“Yes.”

“Then he will come to knock knock knock on my door.”

“Yes. With his manly hand.”

“And will I answer?”

“Will you wish him to join us beneath the covers?”

“Oh – I think so. Do you?”

“Yes – I think so.”

“Then I will answer his manly hand and ask him to come in and he will say that the door is locked and I will say then use your master key and he will ask if I am sure and I will say …”

“What?”

“I will whisper to you for your assent that he is supposed to join us.”

“I will so consent.”

“Then I will most firmly and directly answer that he can come in and he will enter and we will hear the door open and  he will comment about how dark the room is and I will tell him to follow my voice and we will hear him close the door and …”

“What?”

“Won’t you be nervous?”

“I’ll be expectant, which is a positive nervous.”

“Then I will guide him with my voice.”

“What will you say?”

“I’ll ask you for your advice.”

“And what will he think when he hears both of our voices together?”

“He will think he is in heaven.”

“And he will be.”

“Yes.”

“Then I will advise you to tell him that, since there is a storm -“

“On a dark night.”

“Yes – that is, of course, the basis of it – to tell him that he better have his sea legs steady to cross the room so he can firmly handle two damsels in distress.”

“He must be firm?”

“Oh – yes – I think so. As firm as firm can be. Don’t you think that should be his preexisting state?”

“When he reaches the bed?”

“Yes.”

“Then – yes – Yes, I think so also.”

“And we will give him an appropriate welcome and make room for him on the perhaps-not-quite-wide-enough bed and he will say ‘no-no, I think I should be in the middle if I am to tend to you both, and ease your minds about the storm in the night’, and you will say – “

“ – what?”

“Then you will move closer to the edge of the bed and you will say ‘climb over me, Ellerton, for there is now space for you’, and when he carefully climbs across you …”

“ – what?”

“Then you will find out if he is indeed firm as firm can be to handle both of our needs.”

“And if he is?”

“Then you and me will go paper/scissors/rock in the dark to see whose needs are tended to first.”

[Image] https://i.ytimg.com/vi/EGpZwUV7IXs/maxresdefault.jpg

Ghosts At Sea Make Sailors Sing A Song

sea-shanty

And the wind is whistling past the  graveyard and past the land and past the sea and past the ships upon the sea and past the sailors upon the decks and in the companionways, tethered by their ropes and harnesses and heaving their axes and mauls against the shattering ice coating their still upright ships and even here even in this peculiar time the sailors revert to their age-old method of coping with their labours at sea and the perils of the sea and they break out into thunderous shanties – yes, even thunderous enough to best and beat the thunderous wind and crashing waves – that tell of wind and waves and women and graveyards and ghosts and the whistling that is supposed to keep the ghosts at bay, and, keep the bodies beneath the ground.

“Heave ‘er to, boys/

“Heave ‘er to and smash her down/

“Get the rhythm, boys/

“Get the rhythm so we won’t drown//

“It’s girls or ghosts, boys//

“Girls or ghosts that we next meet/

“Smash that ice boys/

“If you want our meeting sweet.”

“They’re singing about you,” says Alison Alexandra.

“And you, too,” says R/Jane-the-Ghost. “And I don’t mind if you’re the one to win.”

“It’s the wind, boys/

“Screaming like Banshees from Hell//

“Give ‘er Hell, boys/

“Or that’s where we will dwell.”

(Image) https://www.stives-cornwall.co.uk/wp/wp-content/uploads/Sea-shanty.jpg

The Ghosts In The Fog

robbie-george-sea-smoke-rises-up-around-maine-s-portland-head-light-on-a-cold-winter-s-day
I can see my hand
In the fog,
And
The building,
Across the street.
 
That is about all.
 
So, I know
The ghosts,
Are not
As close
As they sound.
 
The Ghosts sound like Fog Horns
 
And that’s what folk
Up
And down
The coast
Say
That they are.
 
Fog Horns.
 
But – they aren’t.
 
They are ghosts that moan,
And wail,
And cough,
And even
Sputter,
On the wind,
In the fog,
Where they can hide
Out in the open.
 
It is true that they do moan
For ships.
That they do give warnings
In the fog,
Where they can not
Be seen,
Because they look
Like fog.
 
They give warnings
Because
They have all come
From ships,
Where once they lived.
 
But now they don’t.
 
They went down with ships
At sea
And
Along the coast
To their
Cold and wet
Death.
 
Days ago
Years ago
Centuries ago.
 
To be buried at sea
Is not
To be buried
At all.
~ D.E. BA U.E.
(image) imgc.allpostersimages.com/images/P-473-488-90/89/8955/8SOR300Z/posters/robbie-george-sea-smoke-rises-up-around-maine-s-portland-head-light-on-a-cold-winter-s-day.jpg

Bluenose II – Ghostly Ship Under Sail, Updated

bluenose-2923783_large
It now is Sunday, and The Bluenose II has come and gone. And, it was not exactly a Ghost ship, but I had difficulty seeing it as it slipped into view from the fog. Even with binoculars. For awhile the ship did slip in and out as the fog wafted in front of it.  But – finally – it appeared side-too (much as it is on the Canadian dime) and all was right with the world.
Also, it stayed insight a good long time – around half an hour. From our reasonably-secluded viewing spot from a hill, there was an uninterrupted view, with just a few small pleasure craft keeping it company.  It was during this leisurely exposure that my partner casually noted that her grandfather had helped build the original Bluenose fishing vessel, at The Smith and Rhuland Shipyard. back in 1921, as he lived in Lunenburg NS. That was the home port of the original sailing ship, and is the home port of the current Bluenose II.
When it was time for the Bluenose II to leave, it went around the island which had been the backdrop as we watched, and started along the coast, headed for Grand Manan Island.
Original post:
Sunday, if there is no fog, I’ll be able (binoculars at the ready) be able to see a famed sailing ship pass the island at the mouth of the harbour. A replica of the ship, at any rate, itself now quite an acclaimed sailing vessel. In addition to setting into many a  port as a nautical ambassador, it is a training vessel for young sailors.
This is the site of the Bluenose II (replica of the original Bluenose).https://bluenose.novascotia.ca/
A detailed history can be found there. Needless to say, it is an impressive .schooner when under sail, and will be an impressive site out on the open sea. I hope it lingers.
I had dealings with The Bluenose II many a year ago.
I was seated on a bench on a wharf in Halifax harbour. I had noted a tall masted sailing boat pass, but I was watching a large cruise ship prepare to leave.
Suddenly a man was at my back. He was asking me to move so I would not get struck in the head. I turned to see the sailing boat – The Bluenose II – coming alongside. It edged toward the dock, closer and closer, and then a crew member on the bow shouted to me.
He asked if I would grab the rope when it was thrown. I agreed. Soon I had the bow line in my hands and at my feet.
I was asked to put it over the ‘second’ post. That proved to be quite a chore for something thicker than my arm and heavy in weight. But, I had had some practise doing such a thing, just not so unexpectedly and on the fly..
It took a couple of minutes, but I slipped it over and jumped back.  It was a taut rope indeed.
Someone yelled thanks, and the crew started preparing the ship to be secure at the dock.
I did write a blog about it at the time, and sent it to the Bluenose II web site. I received the answer below. I’ll have no similar chores to perform when I see The Bluenose II (I hope) out in the mouth of the harbour.
Thanks again for your help. I will pass this along to the ship.

bstrgds

ww

 

Capt Wayne Walters
Director of Operations – Bluenose II

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