7am our time was 00*43'S/094*08'W. About 3500nm to Tahiti and hope to arrive their before the 8th of April. The following
poem speaks somewhat of where we are.
Miscellaneous: Pacific Ocean
Southern Seas
William Howitt (1792-1879)
YES! let us mount this gallant ship;
Spread canvas to the wind,-
Up! we will seek the glowing South,-
Leave care and cold behind.
Let the shark pursue through the waters blue
Our flying vessel's track;
Let strong winds blow, and rocks below
Threaten,-we turn not back.
Trusting in Him who holds the sea
In his Almighty hand,
We pass the awful waters wide,
Tread many a far-off strand.
Right onward as our course we hold,
From day to day, the sky
Above our head its arch shall spread
More glowing, bright, and high;
And from night to night-oh, what delight!
In its azure depths to mark
Stars all unknown come glittering out
Over the ocean dark.
The moon uprising like a sun,
So stately, large, and sheen,
And the very stars, like clustered moons,
In the crystal ether keen.
Whilst all about the ship, below,
Strange, fiery billows play,-
The ceaseless keel through liquid fire
Cuts wondrously its way.
But oh, the South! the balmy South!
How warm the breezes float!
How warm the amber waters stream
From off our basking boat!
Come down, come down from the tall ship's side,-
What a marvellous sight is here!
Look! purple rocks and crimson trees,
Down in the deep so clear.
See! where those shoals of dolphins go,
A glad and glorious band,
Sporting amongst the roseate woods
Of a coral fairy-land.
See! on the violet sands beneath
How the gorgeous shells do glide!
O sea! old sea, who yet knows half
Of thy wonders and thy pride!
Look how the sea-plants trembling float,
As it were like a mermaid's locks,
Waving in thread of ruby red
Over those nether rocks,
Heaving and sinking, soft and fair,
Here hyacinth, there green,-
With many a stem of golden growth,
And starry flowers between.
But away! away to upper day!
For monstrous shapes are here,-
Monsters of dark and wallowing bulk,
And horny eyeballs drear:
The tuskéd mouth, and the spiny fin,
Speckled and warted back;
The glittering swift, and the flabby slow,
Ramp through this deep sea track.
Away! away! to upper day,
To glance o'er the breezy brine,
And see the nautilus gladly sail,
The flying-fish leap and shine.
But what is that? "'T is land! 'T is land!
'T is land!" the sailors cry.
Nay! 't is a long and a narrow cloud
Betwixt the sea and sky.
"'T is land! 't is land!" they cry once more;
And now comes breathing on
An odor of the living earth,
Such as the sea hath none.
But now I mark the rising shores!
The purple hills! the trees!
Ah! what a glorious land is here,
What happy scenes are these!
See! how the tall palms lift their locks
From mountain clefts,-what vales,
Basking beneath the noontide sun,
That high and hotly sails.
Yet all about the breezy shore,
Unheedful of the glow,
Look how the children of the South
Are passing to and fro!
What noble forms! what fairy place!
Cast anchor in this cove,
Push out the boat, for in this land
A little we must rove!
We 'll wander on through wood and field,
We 'll sit beneath the vine;
We 'll drink the limpid cocoa-milk,
And pluck the native pine.
The bread-fruit and cassada-root,
And many a glowing berry,
Shall be our feast; for here, at least,
Why should we not be merry!
For 't is a southern paradise,
All gladsome,-plain and shore,-
A land so far that here we are,
But shall be here no more
We 've seen the splendid southern clime,
Its seas and isles and men;
So now! back to a dearer land,-
To England back again!
AND ANOTHER POEM IN THE SAME VEIN
Miscellaneous: Pacific Ocean
South Sea Islands
John Wilson (1720-1789)
(From The Isle of Palms)
OH, many are the beauteous isles
Unknown to human eye,
That, sleeping mid the Ocean smiles,
In happy silence lie.
The ship may pass them in the night,
Nor the sailors know what a lovely sight
Is resting on the main,-
Some wandering ship who hath lost her way
And never, or by night or day,
Shall pass these isles again.
There, groves that bloom in endless spring
Are rustling to the radiant wing
Of birds, in various plumage, bright
As rainbow-hues or dawning light.
Soft-falling showers of blossoms fair
Float ever on the fragrant air,
Like showers of vernal snow,
And from the fruit-tree, spreading tall,
The richly ripened clusters fall
Oft as sea-breezes blow.
The sun and clouds alone possess
The joy of all that loveliness;
And sweetly to each other smile
The live-long day,-sun, cloud, and isle.
How silent lies each sheltered bay!
No other visitors have they
To their shores of silvery sand,
Than the waves that, murmuring in their glee,
All hurrying in a joyful band
Come dancing from the sea.
How did I love to sigh and weep
For those that sailed upon the deep,
When, yet a wondering child,
I sat alone at dead of night,
Hanging all breathless with delight
O'er their adventures wild!
Trembling I heard of dizzy shrouds,
Where up among the raving clouds
The sailor-boy must go;
Thunder and lightning o'er his head!
And should he fall-oh thought of dread!
Waves mountain-high below.
How leapt my heart with wildering fears,
Glazing on savage islanders
Ranged fierce in long canoe,
Their poisoned spears, their war-attire,
And plumes twined bright, like wreaths of fire,
Round brows of dusky hue!
What tears would fill my wakeful eyes
When some delicious paradise
(As if a cloud had rolled
On a sudden from the bursting sun),
Freshening the Ocean where it shone,
Flung wide its groves of gold!
No more the pining mariner
In wild delirium raves,
For like an angel, kind and fair,
That smiles and smiling saves,
The glory charms away distress,
Serene in silent loveliness
Amid the dash of waves.
Hope you enjoy that as much as I do.
Captain Paul
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