Thursday, February 23, 2012

ELISSA and her makers

Shipmates,

This afternoon, after working on the logistics of our upcoming transit of ELISSA to Pier 21, I stretched my legs and went into the library for a quiet moment to think and go over our planning. My eyes happened to look at the bookcase and fell upon a book by John Masefield titled Salt Water Poems & Ballad, and wanting to take a little afternoon break, I reached for the volume. I unfurled the book to page 119 and decided to read the poem “THE SHIP AND HER MAKERS”. Even before I began to read, I thought of our ship and her “makers”, both those who first riveted together a strong sea going hull and us… her “re-makers”.

Please indulge me as I include this lovely poem for those of you who have not had the pleasure of reading it.

THE SHIP AND HER MAKERS

~THE ORE~
Before Man’s laboring wisdom gave me birth
I had not even seen the light of day;
Down in the central darkness of the earth,
Crushed by the weight of continents I lay,
Ground by the weight to heat, not knowing then
The air, the light, the noise, the world of men.

~THE TREES~
We grew on mountains where the glaciers cry,
Infinite somber armies of us stood
Below the snow-peaks which defy the sky;
A song like the gods moaning filled our wood;
We knew no men – our life was to stand staunch
Singing our song, against the avalanche.

~THE HEMP AND FLAX~
We were millions of grasses on the hill,
A million herbs which bowed as the wind blew,
Trembling in every fibre, never still;
Out of summer earth sweet life we drew.
Little blue-flowered grasses up the glen,
Glad of the sun, what did we know of men?

~THE WORKERS~
We tore the iron from the mountain’s hold,
Buy blasting fires we smithied it to steel;
Out of the shapeless stone we learned to mould
The sweeping bow, the rectilinear keel;
We hewed the pine to plank, we split the fir,
We pulled the myriad flax to fashion her.

Out of a million lives our knowledge came,
A million subtle craftsmen forged the means;
Steam was our handmaid and our servant flame,
Water our strength, all bowed to our machines.
Out of the rock, the tree, the springing herb
We built this wandering beauty so superb.

~THE SAILORS~
We, who were born on earth and live by air,
Make this thing pass across the fatal floor,
The speechless sea: alone we commune there
Jesting with death, that ever open door.
Sun, moon and stars are signs by which we drive
This wind-blown iron like a thing alive.

~THE SHIP~
I march across the waters like a queen
I whom so many wisdoms helped to make;
Over the uncruddeled billows of seas green
I blanch the bubbled highway of my wake.
By me my wandering tenants clasp the hands,
And know the thoughts of men in other lands.


I included this bit of verse in our weekly newsletter to remind myself that there is magic every time the ELISSA stirs. Whether it is bracing the yards round and working the ship or motoring several hundred yards to a new temporary berth…there is always magic whenever ELISSA stirs. After so many ship movements and leagues underway, I forget that some of you will be experiencing the spell of ELISSA moving for the first time! I remember the first time I felt the deck of a square-rigger shift under foot and the excitement that generated deep within me, almost a sense of exaggerated awareness and heightened sensitivity of the ship. While it does not compare to the first time you hand a topsail under a freshening breeze or catch a turn of a t’gallant sheet while underway…there is magic every time ELISSA stirs and awakens the sailor and lover within each of us.

I know she still stirs all of us who have sallied with her in a seaway and would love to be aboard, even for the briefest of ship movements. We will be needing hands to help ashore with her mooring lines and gangway. I hope as many of you as possible can turn to next Thursday, March 1st.


Your shipmate,

Jamie

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