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The Sailor
by Ian Curtress

Waking slowly, gathered thoughts.
So snug reluctant to stir but then slight movement and lapping sounds
sharpen mind with anticipation of the coming day.
Will winds favour me or offer friendly challenge which I will meet.
Surely mental and physical skills are the making of this field
Who will win, who will yield.

Breakfast taken with unhealthy haste, tell yourself no time to waste.
Tide just right so up on deck time to complete safety check, then engine sweetly humming, finely greased. Now with care, warps released.
Soon I can hoist the sails, heart rate jumps, never fails.
Excitement and anticipation as on first time, when I knew this sport was mine
The wind joins in as sails unfurled and once again my happy World

Salty spray strikes my face and for moment stings, thoughts of warm cabin below
weakens my resolve.
This is not my profession. I have no need to experience discomfort so why?
So many have tried to put into words that which cannot be fully answered.
Is it a personal challenge? No. Is it to prove something? No.
It is the sheer joy and exhilaration, the sense of freedom. The feeling of being in tune with Nature.

Yes. Nature can be volatile but makes up for it with indescribable tranquility.
As with every emotion each compliments the other.
So although Nature is requiring I focus my mind at this time I know that soon she will allow me to continue and in her own way say sorry by sharing with me a happiness which only a Seafarer would understand.