Poems about the sea

[Bob Pacey]

Now you lot know better than to post poems on a discussion thread


Young Bill will be most annoyed.


Bob

[Maureen K Clifford]

Love The fur and feather club Stephen - that is a pearler and the title is an absolute classic

[Stephen Whiteside]

Thanks, Maureen. I enjoyed yours very much too - very evocative.

Ion Idriess wrote a book about the pearlers. Perhaps you have read it. There is a scene in it I have never forgotten. He describes lying deep in the hull of a large boat, well below the water-line, and hearing the song of a humpback whale reverberating through the wooden planks. Above the water, he couldn't hear it at all. It's another world down there!

[David J Delaney]

Here is a very early one of mine, complete with metre all over the place & mis-rhymes....

The Surfer

Sitting a fair way off the shore, on a piece of foam and fibreglass
patiently waiting as one swell comes, then watches another pass
the ocean water here is so clear, the creatures, so wonderous
while closer to the shore the sound of the waves are thunderous.

Splashing some water over his face, this feels so refreshing
plying his trade to an art, for years many have been expressing
his adrenaline now quickening, noticing the distance a large swell
he thinks, will this be that perfect ride, that for years they will tell.

Being lifted by this monster now his heart must be pumping
he prays, please don’t wipe out here; I’ll truly cop a thumping
crouching ever closer to the board as this wave starts to curl
we’re watching from the shore, waiting for this scene to unfurl.

Shot out from this liquid prison with a strong blast of spray
heading towards the base of this giant, going all the way
turning and now at the waves centre, this ride seems unending
picking up speed, now towards the top this rider is ascending.

Skimming across the lip, now turn and drop to the other side
we’re all clapping and cheering, he paddles out for another ride
staying out there as long as possible until the days end
once again to ride the surf, another day he will spend

What is this attraction, riding in heat, cold, wind and the rains?
some say it’s the salt water moving through your veins
the feeling of freedom, enjoying the surf, sand and sun
remembering my younger days when having the same fun.

That old Mazda bongo van doing 80 kilometres an hour flat stack
loaded to the hilt with our gear, guitars and boards on the rack
traveling the coast road, finding a good swell, we’d drop in
good friends us four Chris, Blacky, me and a bloke called Darwin

Now days watching the young doing their lip rides and 360’s
reminiscing at what we used to do back then in the 70’s
coming here often to watch them, each day is such a treat
content now to sit here in awe as the surf washes over my feet.


David J Delaney

[Stephen Whiteside]

Good one, Dave.

A bloke named Darwin? Don't tell me. His father was Palmerston, and his daughter was Tracy, right?

[Maureen K Clifford]

Some good lines in the depths of the surfie poem David - why not rework it - it is a little time capsule all of its own of the 60's surfing scene. Growing up then was such fun - far more than kids seem to have today, we really enjoyed freedom back then.

Cheers

Maureen

[Maureen K Clifford]

I haven't read the book you mentioned Stephen but my son and DIL have several times heard the whale songs when they have been travelling and laid up at night on their boat. He seems to attract whales as well as every boat he has had at some time has had whales frolicking around it with no encouragement from him. He has said the eerieness of their song moves him to tears because there is such a depth of sorrow in their sounds.

[Stephen Whiteside]

Funny thing is, Maureen, they say animals' size is related to their perception of time, so whales sing more slowly than we do, and birds sing more quickly. If you speed up a whale's song sufficiently, it sounds very much like a bird.

[Heather]

You are a font of information Stephen.

[Stephen Whiteside]

That's why birds always leave it to the last minute to get out of the way of cars - they reckon they've got plenty of time. Of course, sometimes they're wrong!