The Boatman's Lament Redux

by John Brady

All sailors know that Pride doth go
Often before a fall
That once struck low by Lady Luck
It’s hard to stand back tall

I studied thus my folly
And analyzed my error
The glee among my comrades
Did often cause me terror

But grimly did I carry on
With practice and with care
And felt that of my embarrassment
No one was still aware

And so just one year later
At the very scene of the fall
I once again responded
To another boating call

The scene was near identical
Three boats were full of guests
I double checked at everything
Determined to be best























And so we sailed out once again
Upon the streaming main
The other pilots waiting
For the gods to resume their game

Oh, Carefully I maneuvered
How skillfully I worked
And prayed the gods as ne’er before
To not provoke the smirk

The flotilla motored crisply
Up toward the nearby dam
I breathed a silent sigh of relief
For peacefulness-Then BAM !

Another’s motor hit the fritz
It bobbled, burped and died
The helpless craft and passengers
Went southward with the tide

Oh! Woe! To see the spectacle
Of damsels in distress
Disaster’s fateful portent
Of this colossal mess

Amid the panic, screams and grief
I calmly rounded to
Came dashing to the rescue
As all great sailors do

Deftly with the heaving line
I caught the errant craft
And in the blink of an Albatross
Had tied her fore and aft























OH! Her pilot was so thankful
Her passengers fair cooed
I modestly gave others credit
So’s not to break the mood

Two working craft then nobly
Did help the one in peril
To savvy sailors such a task
Was fish shooting in a barrel

Thus the whole assemblage
Continued on its way
I tried my best to not show pride
At having saved the day

The other pilots thankful gaze
As up the tide we bore
T‘was balm for all the sufferings
I’d gotten from before

But now I am more careful
To keep in check my pride
Now that I’ve been a party
To both ends of the ride

So let this be a lesson, then
To boatmen young and old
Be gracious when it’s called for
And when the story’s told

Hold back a bit about yourself
Be modest when you can
And don’t forget what happens
When the bad stuff hits the fan

The Old Sailor says:” Good judgment comes from experience and a lot of that comes from bad judgment”.

John Brady 9/09

Check out part one of the "The Boatman's Lament" by clicking here.

The Boatman's Lament

by John Brady

Inspired by the story of a difficult day in the life of our beloved Jeff Barrow. Brady claims every bit is true while Barrow denies everything.

I am a boatman through and through
Though that is not my trade
I spend my time at many things
At how my living’s made

But only on the water
Is where my spirit soars
For life, to me, is not complete
Except behind the oars

I came to motor powered boats
When I was fully grown
For motor craft I had no use
I paddled on my own

Still, time and life soon took its due
And so I came to see
That cruising on a powered craft
Was now the life for me

I studied it with all my skill
Each tiller arm and knot
At drift and draft and piloting
A novice I was not

In boating lore and boatmanship
I felt I held my own
And took the helm with jaunty air,
With styling all my own

T’was with greatest confidence
I headed out that day
Full laden down with teachers
On an education day

A sturdy craft with power plus
A captain sure and wise
We made our way up through the drift
Then came the first surprise

An underwater object, where others had found none
Ensnared the new propeller blades and took them one by one
My formerly courageous craft was left a helpless raft
As I became then quite unsure of how to guide the craft



O The seas ran dark and newly dire
As we drifted helplessly
Raw shame became my Albatross
As others rescued me

I swallowed pride and reaching deep into my sailor’s skill
Replaced the prop and launched anew to get my second thrill
With sober resolution, I shifted to reverse
The motor roared, no power poured
I came to know the worst

We drifted out upon the waves as I shifted to and fro
No matter how I flogged the thing, It simply would not go
I cursed and railed and prayed to gods, Yet nothing would avail
My passengers grew fearful, as down the stream we sailed

Stay Calm, I wisely told them
For I’m your Captain true
And sure as I’m your Guiding Light
No harm shall come to you

My words were scarcely uttered
And the crew to lose their frowns
When suddenly a woman screamed
“My God, We’re going down!”

Oh how I hate to tell it, the seas were pouring in
The plug that serves to keep them out was Out instead of In
The panic rose then with the flood, the passengers a mob
I feared a deadly mutiny as I fumbled for the cob

The sobbing wet humanity
Grew sober as we sailed
The plug installed, we drifted on
As several of us bailed

The crisis done, I mustered strength
And calmed the savage beast
As once again, my comrades came
And pushed us to the beach

A saying old as sailors holds that great waves come in threes
It’s true that boatmen curry luck and often bend their knees
That after all the practicing and studying is done
It takes a bit of fortune, if nothing’s to spoil the fun

Let this, then, be a lesson for boatmen great and small
That pride of craft and confidence do oft precede a fall
That even if you’re careful and do the best you can
The River gods will play their tricks and the s**t will hit the fan