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Where's Gypsea Now?
Tomorrow is Promised to No One
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones that you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." (Mark Twain)
Blog Archive
Routes/Trip Planning
- Beverly MA - Antigua by way of Newport and Bermuda
- Antigua
- Dominica
- Guadeloupe - Isles des Saintes (Les Saintes)
- Martinique
- Dominica
- Saintes/Guadeloupe
- Antigua
- St. Barth's
- St. Martin
- BVI's and USVI's
- Newport/Beverly MA
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Swedish Ocean Racing Club - Sailing Poem - Poet Unknown
A small boy heard the ocean roar,
There are secrets on my distant shore,
But beware my child, the ships bell’s wail,
Wait not too long to start to sail.
So quickly come and go the years,
And a young adult stands abeach with fears,
Come on, Come on the ocean cussed,
Time passes on. Oh sail you must.
Now its business in mid-aged prime,
And maybe tomorrow there will be time,
Now is too soon, it’s raining today,
Gone all gone - years are eaten away.
An old man looks, still feeling the lure,
Yet he’ll suffer the pain, than go for the cure,
The hair is white, the steps with care,
The tide has turned, he is aware.
So all too soon the secrets are buried,
Along with him and all regrets he carried,
And it’s not for the loss of secrets, he cried,
But rather because he’d never tried.
There are secrets on my distant shore,
But beware my child, the ships bell’s wail,
Wait not too long to start to sail.
So quickly come and go the years,
And a young adult stands abeach with fears,
Come on, Come on the ocean cussed,
Time passes on. Oh sail you must.
Now its business in mid-aged prime,
And maybe tomorrow there will be time,
Now is too soon, it’s raining today,
Gone all gone - years are eaten away.
An old man looks, still feeling the lure,
Yet he’ll suffer the pain, than go for the cure,
The hair is white, the steps with care,
The tide has turned, he is aware.
So all too soon the secrets are buried,
Along with him and all regrets he carried,
And it’s not for the loss of secrets, he cried,
But rather because he’d never tried.
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