Ocean Sailing

A poem about sailing in a stormy open sea

The ocean is vast and wide and deep And we have many miles to go before we sleep

Small mountains surround us Towering swells of saltwater rising half as high as our mast Lifting our boat as we sail up one incline and down the other Whitecaps cresting every peak, froth blown away by the wind The moon shining brightly overhead, Bobbing and weaving behind clouds like a prizefighter All sails tucked away, but a storm sail on the foremast, for stability The wind, whistling through the shrouds and lines, remind us of its velocity Everything on deck is strapped and secured with lashings But it all creaks and groans as the boat is tossed to and fro Saltwater whips over the foredeck and smacks our faces The auto-pilot is unable to keep up with the corrections needed Hand-steering is required — it’s going to be a long night Sailing through the Indian Ocean, weeks between islands

The ocean is vast and wide and deep And we have many miles to go before we sleep