kayaks in crystal clear bay in Catalina

kayaks in crystal clear bay in Catalina


‘Twas a flat calm day when we cast away

On Godot, my sailing boat.

These three good friends set sail without winds

And motored for all she wrote.

Catalina sang and the buoys they rang.

All day we puttered along.

Till we reached the bay, cast anchors away,

Then things began to go all wrong.

Our kayaks were tied up along the side

When the winds began to blow.

Anchor lines stretched tight throughout that windy night

Till we decided we just had to go.

“Up anchor!”  I cried, almost terrified

As we heaved and motored about.

Then Dave’s kayaks rope almost ended all hope

Of us ever getting ourselves out.

The engine quit cause the prop had bit

the line on Dave’s kayak.

“Oh no,”  I cried, when our motor died

And the boat went sliding back.

The once calm bay had clean gone away

And all Hell was drawing near.

The waves at six feet had us pretty near beat

‘We’re going into the rocks, I fear.’

With mask and fins I told my friends

“Tis over the side I go

To cut that rope and restore some hope

‘Gainst these waves we cannot row.”

Dave’s new boat now cut free

Slowly drifted out to sea.

He never got to use it before we managed to lose it.

We made our way out through that bay

In search of calmer spots

To spend the night without the fright

Of being tossed against the rocks.

The winds did howl when off the bow

A dead calm bay we found.

We motored the boat to a ball afloat

As Dave began to frown.

“My kayak’s lost.  You should a’ tossed

Her line into the boat.

But Captain Cox let her get to the rocks

And I only got to see her float!”



Dave's yellow kayak.

Dave’s yellow kayak.


We all felt bad that Dave was so sad

Over the loss of his brand new toy.

So we drank a bit, some lanterns we let

And tried to bring poor Dave some joy.

Early next morn’ we awoke to a fog horn,

The sea as calm as a sea can be.

Steve cast us off while Dave went aloft

I steamed Godot out to sea.

Ten minutes had passed, when Steve at the mast

Yelled  “Toss me the binocular!

I think I can see what surely must be

Some gulls perched on a reef out thar’.”

Godot steered up close when we all saw the ghost

Of Dave’s kayak all covered with birds.

To my surprise Dave had tears in his eyes

And was surely at a loss for words.

“We found my boat, I’d ’bout given up hope,”

Dave said, wiping away a tear.

The boat we found was still quite sound

And we began to cheer.

So we motored back towing Dave’s lil’ yellow kayak

To tie up to that mooring ball.

There’s not enough words to thank all them birds.

We wore ten-foot grins—all.

Later that day we paddled around the bay,

Each in a kayak of his very own.

Exploring rocky caves, the first boat in–   alway’s Dave’s

In honor of bringing it home.

That night, to our surprise, Dave trotted out one of his pies.

So we went ashore, built a little fire

And spirits couldn’t a gotten’ very much higher.

That pie got cooked the way it should

And you gotta’ believe it tasted damn good!

As we three friends, hardly suppressing grins

Recalled the story in all it’s glory

Of how Dave’s boat became a float

For birds to perch in our successful search

for the kayak that got away.




happy kayaks on the beach

happy kayaks on the beach


(images courtesy of Google)