Such splendour to the eye, when her belly fills the sky
A vision of beauty but a temperament quite feisty.
A consistent breeze and she fills with ease,
The crew is all smiles as we carve up the miles and our progress makes time fly by.
But when the winds drops, her good mood stops
In the gusts, then lows, her fury flows
But when the wind chooses to be fickle she becomes a particular pickle.
Her favourite trick, when all on deck is looking slick
Is to decide it is time to play
and get herself wrapped around the forestay
After 27hrs in, tempers wear thin, but the crew will not be beaten.
As she whips and beats, her anger eventually retreats.
Remarkably unscathed for so badly behaved
though never without a cut and a graze.
Finally, once tamed, she’s dropped down below
And the sewing machine is once more back on the go.
Her pristine panels are less and less
As a daily repair makes for a patchwork mess.
And although so trying she can be
We can never get truly angry
As when she behaves, we carve through the waves
And that is the beauty of life at sea.