Race 5 - Day 17
Crew Diary - Race 5 - Day 17
08 January

A poem to celebrate the bird that landed on our deck and stayed for a few days as we sailed under the ominous skies east of the Australian fires.

Brown Noddy and the Apocalypse

At length did cross a Noddy bird

Through the yellow mist it came

It circled round and came in close

And sat astride the frame

A wandering and exhausted soul Tyrone its given name

We passed the fires of New South Wales

The sun from Hades rose dark red

Black ashes fell like snow from hell

And northward, aye, we fled

A lost soul swept far from its shores

With white-flecked eye and feathers brown

My crossbow stayed its brutal aim

I did not shoot it down

And did our fortunes change by this?

And did the wind arise?

And did we follow the aimless bolt

To where our brown bird Noddy flies?

The night drew back its sickly cloak

Of velvet from the sky

Up sprang fair wind and following seas

Until at thirty one degrees

Our young friend west did fly

God bless the bird that brought us luck

And gaily flew away

We served him well and wish him well

The bird that led us out of hell

To sail another day

In grateful appreciation of Samuel Taylor Coleridge