by G B Dent

Created on: July 30, 2008

Hard Alee

When wind and wave suddenly change their track;
And a luff in your sail says you've lost the course.
Do you challenge the gods with a windward tack?
Or turn your back and run with the force?

Sure an even keel gives the tiller man rest,
As billowing clouds fill the canvas with steam.
And sailing by the lee is an easy test.
On a following sea that rolls like a dream.

Tis' another matter when the sky looks torn
When chop gets hard and the tiller arm aches.
When wind whips the lines and groans forlorn.
It's time to run for home, and heavens sake.

Yet others welcome that haul with a shout.
With nose in the air, and a scowling brow,
They bark at the wind "Prepare to come about! "
Then bring the gale right across the bow.

Now the sails complain with an angry flap.
As the boom swings by, jump from your seat.
The jib flays wildly with a howling rap,
Until it's pulled taught on a leeward cleat.

Then blooming canvas quickens the pace.
With the rhythmic slap of spray prevailing;
Rising, falling sun and wind in your face.
Now by God that's what I call sailing!

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