I'll push this boat for all it's got, It can handle the abusing.
And I don't relly give a damn, 'Coz it's not my boat I'm using.
We've got to get her ready though, To handle extra pace.
Remove all useless items, To, at all costs, win this race.
Removed the stove, the cushions too, We've even pulled the bed.
And now we have a bucket, To replace that heavy head.
And what's all this fresh water? Our weight's just on the brink.
We've got an esky full of beer, So we've got enough to drink.
Race day is here - we're with the fleet, I feel this race is mine.
As we slowly edge up through the crowd, Towards the starting line.
Genoa and Main are sheeted in, As I hear the starters gun.
And a little voice inside my head, Tells me I've got it won.
I've often heard that best laid plans, Do often go astray.
But I'd not believe the race 'd go, The way it went today.
We lost the mast - the kite's in shreds, And then we had some grief.
When we tore the hull wide open, Aground upon a reef.
This yacht is smashed and broken, And this time I'm the loser.
But I can say with my head held high, AT LEAST I'M NOT A CRUISER.
A Cruising Yachtie's what I am, 'Tis the wandering life for me.
Excitement and adventure, Myself, my yacht, the sea.
Up at 4 to lift the pick, But according to the sked.
It's blowin' 40 knots out there, So I'll just stay in bed.
There's a few small jobs need doing, Ahh ... next week what the heck.
And by then Social Security, Will have sent another cheque.
I'll only buy flares - out of date, And the reason that I choose 'em.
Is I'm such a competent fellow, And I'll never have to use 'em.
My relaible old SATNAV, It always gives me smiles.
I can get my position TWICE a day, And accurate to 20 miles.
In Coastal Navigation, My theory is quite bright.
Remember when heading south, To keep the Eastcoast on your right.
In running with this theory, And proving I'm quite deft.
When conversely heading north, To keep the Eastcoast on your left.
Celestial Navigation, Now that's another must.
But it's hard to find my sextant, Beneath an inch of dust.
Adjust the slides and lenses, Display to all my finesse.
But will secretly soon head below, To check the GPS.
Monohull or Multi, On that subject we're divided.
But one hull, two or three, You'll at some stage be chided.
A multi's much more stable, And this line's always got'em.
I'd rather be upside-down on the surface, Than right-way-up on the bottom.
Or, when your boat grows up, You'll know just how it feels.
To really do real sailing, Without those training wheels.
Ferro, Steel or Alloy, Plank, GRP or Ply.
It really doesn't matter which, And here's the reason why.
"Mine is best and yours is less", That is what they'll say.
But the best material will be found, On the yacht you own today.
Well, now we're really Cruisers, And we have been for years.
Sure we've had our good times, But we've also had our tears.
"I can lay back and do nothing", They're the words I've often spoke.
But the truth is I've no option, See...I'm a Cruiser, and I'm broke.
We stroll down to the jetty, With some clothes and fishing gear.
And don't forget to store aboard, A dozen eskies full of beer.
Now here comes our instructor, "Much experience?" he quips.
As a smile comes unto my eyes, Then the lie unto my lips.
I mean, what a silly question, How hard could it be?
We're such a tiny boat, And it's such a great big sea.
Just point it where we want to go, Run the engines at their best.
Crack a beer and put up our feet, And maybe get a little rest.
And when it's time to anchor, In the rules it's clearly wrote.
Drop the pick as close as close, To the nearest Cruising boat.
The inflatable rubber tender, It's a real terrific toy.
'Cos you can use any anchored yacht, As a racing turning buoy.
Well now the sun has set, And we're anchored standing proud.
So we'll shatter the tranquillity, By singing really loud.
Our boozing and carousing, Well it's just simple fun.
And our simple yobbo antics, Sure can't annoy anyone.
Now we've completed our adventure, Suffered curse and threat and jeer.
So with mid-finger we salute you, Yelling, "SEE YOU ALL NEXT YEAR !".
Though Pike and April preceded him,
Of them 'tis little known.
Of the creatures friend and foe,
Or if the missions that they'd flown.
Now after Kirk came Harriman,
Who ineptly sought to vex us.
Causing the loss of poor Jim Kirk,
To the heart of a living Nexus.
Then came Rachel Garrett,
As gallant as they come.
Destroyed protecting Klingons,
From filthy Romulan scum.
Now we've Jean-Luc Picard,
Of the Enterprise D and E.
He's courageous, true and honest,
As all good captains be.
Will we see another?
Of that I have no doubt.
For the Enterprise is a legend,
One we cannot do without.
Copyright © 2002 Peter Canham. All rights reserved.
Revised: September 10, 2006
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