Waning Moon – Night Sailing

waningl — Source: http://www.daviddelamare.com/waning.html

Alone

at night

the sky full of the milky way

clear in the darkness

The sea black

the phosphorescence sparkling in the wake of my boat

as she cuts her way through the sea

the light autumn breeze providing her power

silence and darkness

The full moon of Easter has passed

in the last hours of darkness she arises

the waning moon

she sucks the sparkle from the sea

turning it into her own week ribbon of light

Our moods are joined as one

this my last night at sea

the waning of my adventure

dawn will bring my home port and another voyage finished

But like the waning moon

its a phase

in a little while a new cycle will begin

as with the heavens life is a series of cycles

some more spectacular than others

but cycles of the rhythm of life.

I conceived this poem sailing back from Hobart to Melbourne a few years past. It was a magnificent night and I was off Cape Shank heading west along the Victorian coast when the waning moon rose in the east behind me. The morning would see me clear The Rip and head for home.

Full moon rise over Port Phillip, Melbourne

Its a spring night

Cold

Crisp

Still

The full moon a bright orb in the sky

Shedding silver light over the still waters of the bay

Back home

I’m back home

But can’t settle

Miss the rumbling wheels beneath me

Melbourne still a touch too cold

So headed north

The warm arms of the north were beckoning me

To reach the humid warmth of the sub tropics

In northern NSW

The rolling curves of the mountains

The water flowing through moist valleys

And smooth flow of the sandy beach, the water warm and welcoming.

Touring Northern UK on the mighty Breva II – a picture narrative

Went to England but not London

Went to Scotland but not Edinburgh

Didn’t do Manchester, Liverpool or Leeds

Touring a motorbike is on a different path

With strange admirers along the way

Crossing the Burway on the Welsh/English border

Started in Stoke

Made it to the top

Coast to coast

From Newcastle in the east

To Skye in the west

Past castles grand

And those that bare the scars of Britain’s violent history.

In search of monsters real or legend

In the highlands

And in the low

Went to England and didn’t do London

In Scotland missed Edinburgh

But saw a bit.

Mighty Breva II loaded and ready for the European adventure to come

Back on the Celtic Ray

Back in Glasgow

The light

The buildings have a new feel

Sight

Texture

I’ve been touched by the Celtic Ray (the Awen)

Harris Tweed Cap made on the Shetland Islands

‘Ireland, Scotland, Brittany and Wales
I can hear the mothers’ voices calling
“Children, children, children”

Listen Jimmy! I want to go home.
Listen Jimmy! I want to go home.
I’ve been away from the Ray too long
I’ve been away from the Ray too long’ – words by Van Morrison

My heritage is Irish, my great grand parents migrating to Kalgoorlie in the 1890s

Part of the Irish diaspora.

But spending time in the north of Scotland has put me on the Celtic Ray

John O’Groats