Saturday, October 22, 2011

Passage to Marshall Islands - Day 3

The sky is no longer clear, beautiful and blue,
The clouds have arrived, a grey and black stew.

We see the squalls and anticipate,
The accelerating winds, the sudden wall of hate.

All hands scramble top side and quickly lower sail,
We wrestle with the sheets, steady her dive to the rail.

Ahhh, we missed you - our beloved ITCZ*
How quickly we recall how fickle your weather can be.

As quickly as she rose, the squall is soon long gone.
We are left without wind in a slow and tedious calm.
* Remember, I'm that should be ITCZ: AYE.TEA.SEA.ZEE.


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