Head-dibs

  Upon that night, when fairies light On Cassilis Downans dance, Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, On sprightly coursers prance; Or for Colean the route is ta'en, Beneath the moon's pale beams; There, up the cove, to stray and rove, Among the rocks and streams To sport that night. Among the bonny winding banks, Where Doon rins, wimplin' clear, Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks, And shook his Carrick spear, Some merry, friendly, country-folks, Together did convene, To burn their nits, and pou their stocks, And haud their Halloween Fu' blithe that night. The lasses feat, and cleanly neat, Mair braw than when they're fine; Their faces blithe, fu' sweetly kythe, Hearts leal, and warm, and kin'; The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs, Weel knotted on their garten, Some unco blate, and some wi' gabs, Gar lasses' hearts gang startin' Whiles fast at night. Then, first and foremost, through the kail, Their stocks maun a' be sought ance; They

  “I ventured into the captain’s own private cabin, and took thence the materials with which I write, and have written. I shall from time to time continue this Journal. It is true that I may not find an opportunity of transmitting it to the world, but I will not fall to make the endeavour. At the last moment I will enclose the MS. in a bottle, and cast it within the sea.” (Edgar Allan Poe, “MS. Found In A Bottle”)

  “The dawn came quickly now, a wash, a glow, a lightness, and then an explosion of fire as the sun arose out of the Gulf. Kino looked down to cover his eyes from the glare. He could hear the pat of the corncakes in the house and the rich smell of them on the cooking plate. The ants were busy on the ground, big black ones with shiny bodies, and little dusty quick ants. Kino watched with the detachment of God while a dusty ant frantically tried to escape the sand trap an ant lion had dug for him. A thin, timid dog came close and, at a soft word from Kino, curled up, arranged its tail neatly over its feet, and laid its chin delicately on the pile. It was a black dog with yellow-gold spots where its eyebrows should have been. It was a morning like other mornings and yet perfect among mornings.” (John Steinbeck, The Pearl)

  “I have read with ardour the accounts of the various voyages which have been made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the seas which surround the pole. You may remember that a history of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the whole of our good Uncle Thomas’ library. My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study day and night, and my familiarity with them increased that regret which I had felt, as a child, on learning that my father’s dying injunction had forbidden my uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life.” (Mary Shelley, “Frankenstein”)

  “Our ship was registered 750 tons, and weighed perhaps, with all her freight, 1500 tons. The mainmast, from the deck to the top-button, measured 115 feet; the length of the deck, from stem to stern, 155. It is impossible not to personify a ship; everybody does, in everything they say:—she behaves well; she minds her rudder; she swims like a duck; she runs her nose into the water; she looks into a port. Then that wonderful esprit de corps, by which we adopt into our self-love everything we touch, makes us all champions of her sailing qualities.” (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

  “There are many advantages,” says Saadi, “in sea-voyaging, but security is not one of them.” Yet in hurrying over these abysses, whatever dangers we are running into, we are certainly running out of the risks of hundreds of miles every day, which have their own chances of squall, collision, sea-stroke, piracy, cold, and thunder. Hour for hour, the risk on a steamboat is greater; but the speed is safety, or, twelve days of danger, instead of twenty-four. (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

  “It is very well known that, some years ago, Counsellor Horner, a Swiss, made a voyage round the world in the Russian vessel Le Podesda, commanded by Capt. Krusenstern. They discovered many islands, and, amongst others, one very large and fertile, till then unknown to navigators, to the S.W. of Java, near the coast of New Guinea. They landed here, and to the great surprise of Mr. Horner, he was received by a family who spoke to him in German. They were a father and mother, and four robust and hardy sons.” (“Swiss Family Robinson” by Johann David Wyss)

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they called Gitche Gumee The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead When the skies of November turn gloomy With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed When the gales of November came early (Lyrics by Gordon Lightfoot)

  Then Jonah prayed to the LORD his God from the belly of the fish, saying, ‘I called out to the LORD, out of my distress, and he answered me; out of the belly of Sheol I cried, and you heard my voice. For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me.  Then I said, 'I am driven away from your sight; yet I shall again look upon your holy temple.'  The waters closed in over me to take my life; the deep surrounded me; weeds were wrapped about my head at the roots of the mountains. I went down to the land whose bars closed upon me forever; yet you brought up my life from the pit, O LORD my God.  When my life was fainting away, I remembered the LORD, and my prayer came to you, into your holy temple. Those who pay regard to vain idols forsake their hope of steadfast love. But I with the voice of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you; what I have vowed I will pay. Salvation belongs to the LORD!"  A

  “The oceans of the world were the home of Big Blue He was the greatest monster that the world ever knew And the place that he loved best Was the waters to the west Around the blue Pacific he did roam” (“Ode To Big Blue” by Gordon Lightfoot)

 A tree was damaged in the recent high winds, so it had to come down. I’m not complaining because I get to do this: 

  “. . . And now there came both mist and snow,  And it grew wondrous cold:  And ice, mast-high, came floating by,  As green as emerald.  And through the drifts the snowy clifts  Did send a dismal sheen:  Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—  The ice was all between.  The ice was here, the ice was there,  The ice was all around:  It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,  Like noises in a swound! . . .” (“Rime Of The Ancient Mariner,” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

 We interrupt our Nautical posts to welcome October. The skies they were ashen and sober;        The leaves they were crispéd and sere—        The leaves they were withering and sere;  It was night in the lonesome October        Of my most immemorial year;  It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,        In the misty mid region of Weir—  It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,        In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.  Here once, through an alley Titanic,        Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul—        Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.  These were days when my heart was volcanic        As the scoriac rivers that roll—        As the lavas that restlessly roll  Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek        In the ultimate climes of the pole—  That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek        In the realms of the boreal pole.  Our talk had been serious and sober,        But our thoughts they were palsied and sere—        Our memories were treacherous and sere—  For we knew not the month wa