Sea Fever

The days are warmer, the evenings lighter, and daffodils are in bloom - yes, spring really is coming. And with it thoughts turn to the waters again. Not just the re-start of the Volvo Ocean race (more on that tomorrow), but that inner voice that reminds one of the wind on the cheek, the taste of salt spray, the endless open horizon, the feel of the wheel under hand, and the motion of deck under boot.

In other words Captain JP is suffering from what doctors and John Masefield would no doubt call a clear case of Sea Fever.

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.


I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.


I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.