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Webster - Log 25: A final ditti



An ARC tale 2013 - Ken Baynes
Las Palmas to Rodney Bay
24/11-16/12/13


We left the Canaries
A sight just to behold
The scent of adventure
Anxiety if truth be told

The race began and winds were strong
Accompanied by lots of swell
Wondered what the future held
Only time would really tell

Followed advice by heading South
The Grib was read with care
Forecasts were for lightish winds
Before the Trades turned fair

Mother nature was so fickle
As wind we tried to hunt
Failed to find a single breathe
Which was just a challenge

The winds then blew oh so strong
With gusts of 8 or 9
Time to change the underpants
I seemed to have soiled mine

Fishing off the back of boat
So sure of a spinner
Not so long before a catch
Grilled fish for our dinner?

We changed the lures to tempt the fish
But this I have to state
The little blighters wouldn’t bite
No tuna for our plate

We divert to the Verdes Cape
For provisions for our way
Stocked what little we could find
Re-joined the sailing fray

As we left, again no wind
T'was really quite a pain
Motored out to the West
At least there wasn't rain

Then in the middle of night
A miracle it did appear
The wind blew a 3 or 4
We dreamt of Lucian beer

Albert made a strange request
As he sat upon the bog
‘Head to wind’ to flatten boat
So he could flush his log

Jeremy’s attempt to make some bread
I would hate to deride
But the Quatermass that he produced
Was jettisoned over the side

What's that off our starboard bow
Swimming fast in our way
So many dolphins in a pod
For surf on which to play

Facial hair it grew and grew
So grey and most uncouth
It used to be a different hue
When we were in our youth

At last we had a fish on hook
Whilst we were under sail
It must have been quite twenty pounds
Or was that a fishman’s tale?

Spinnaker up night and day
We certainly pushed quite hard
To make up for the time we lost
10 knots were on the card

After 2 weeks the smell on board
Was unpleasant on our noses
Certainly, it had no hint
Of scented English roses

The boat then had a fault
the blocking of her loo
We pondered the alternatives
Just one thing left to do

Chas with hose to lips
To blow out what was stuck
Success was soon achieved
But mouth was full of muck

As the passage was so slow
It is this I have to say
Every day that drifted past
Was just like groundhog day

As the winds grew stronger
Our spirits they just soared
The boat reacted like a dream
No time for being bored

Flying fish they did abound
Took flight when we came near
Chas was on the helm one night
And he got one in his ear

Dead running to St Lucia
The swell was quite a farce
We rolled like a Vegas dice
We had to clench our arse

900, 800, 700 miles
The end it was soon nigh
Rodney Bay here we come
We breathe a collective sigh

3 weeks on boat so dry
No gin or beer in can
I'm due at AA meet
But that can wait till Jan

When we crossed the finish line
Our journey came to end
If I say I'll come again
I'll think I'm round the bend

So..

Farewell to St Lucia
Au revoir to all the crew
Well done to Chas my brother
And Adieu to Father too




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