‘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!”
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.
(images courtesy of Google)