Ahoy, the old sea dog Flaneur
invites you to get with this trip,
to burn your lanterns on the waves
to sing out under the sky
Another fine breezy day,
a sunny Saturday in September
with a lot of boats out
Sails arrayed in a vast ballet
adorned in lyrical clouds,
Come with me, I'll take you where
the taste of life is free
The herd has begun to thin this time of year,
You can pop into this Sailor Jerry outlet
for nautical hipster gear, but why bother?
The breeze was steady if not stiff,
I knew where to shelter for lunch and libation,
Percolating hornpipes and busy fiddles kept the mood
These were the sea chanty punk rockers
(Madness with a member or two of Hawkwind)
The hair demographic skews a bit white
There's a Steampunk vibe too,
Hard to tell but this baby was fired up
and steaming
An Hawaiian migration
follows the sun,
Take me with you when you go
A group sing down the pier,
There was to be a chanty sing later
But the main show was winding down toward five,
I joined the group sing for the closer
The fellow in the red shirt could sing,
He sounded like an old Irish fisherman
Looking back at the pier
and the little beach where I rested a while,
It's protected by the wind-breaks at two private beach clubs,
Look at all the perpendicular flags
A small green inflatable dinghy sits by the one small sand dune
At one point a uniform came over to ask if it was mine,
If it wasn't so windy I might have paddled it away
Like a virgin,
Time for me to slip into a vestal vessel
and shove off
The Secret of the Sea
Inter-chapter Four
13 September 2014
