Standing vertical against the tilting of the sea,
The helmsman anticipates each bullying twist;
Bears away to meet the massing wave,
Churning roar beneath the stern
Then lift, rush, roaring gush,
Prow dipping deep.
Cascades advance to mid ships,
Bible black streams emerald, white
With foaming crown.
Hold it, surf it, before the drop.
Our speedboat wakes track back,
Deep, welling furrow to leeward,
Fine tracery its twin
Stretch a lacy record of our progress.
Clouds thicken with advancing night,
Bones sense the chilling air,
Spray strafes the deck.
Reluctant watch prepares to meet
The wind and rain.
Deep visored, climb up
And face the crazy angled world;
Grope through welcoming forms and then,
Like old explorers huddle,
Nor flinch against the assault of spray and wave;
Watch the rush of luminescent foam
And star-like sparks
In streaking mass
And lilting tapestry of green
Against the night.
