I was standing on deck one windy summer night,
the mugginess made my shirt cling real tight.
The stars were out we were just into the morn,
I heard one bell strike the sound made me forlorn.
Sleep still eluded though I did not know why,
some of the crew slept on deck their breathing a sigh.
The rigging it hummed and the sails a slight snap,
oh, how I longed for even a short little nap.
My side it ached and did sorely sweat so,
and this blasted shirt clung, it just had to go.
The shirt truly soaked, I pulled it off over my head,
I would hang it on the rail to dry instead.
Then I heard another bell off the port side,
I peered into the darkness to see what it might hide.
Then a tall ship I saw pulling close in from the night,
it was tattered and torn the damage a sight.
I hailed to my shipmates to raise the alarm,
but no one moved as they slept arm against arm.
I ran to the bell and rang as hard as I might,
but still no one moved and no helmsman in sight.
Then they came alongside and their crew hailed me,
they called out my name and then Davy Jones did I see.
He stood at the rail and he looked in my eye,
he said it’s your time lad, you have up and died.
There’s no room amongst the living for the likes of you,
and lucky for you I am in need of some crew.
A carpenter you are and a good one at that,
and my ship needs a good one on this you can bet.
Fifty years you will give penance then I will release you above,
but if you try to stay lad the inferno will fit like a glove.
I knew it was true for I saw my death in my sight,
it was not the humidity but the fever I did fight.
Something inside me had ruptured, I died in a day,
we had no surgeon on board to cut it away.
The sea flattened out, it turned as if to glass,
and a plank they did lay cross the rails to pass.
As I stepped aboard I saw a few people I knew,
I guess over twenty years sailing will do that to you.
My old shipmates they welcomed me aboard and said,
when we saw thy name, we suggested to Davy take Jed.
A fine carpenter and a good crewmember he be,
his sins are all light, a chance of penance deserves he.
So the Captain he showed the posted list of rules,
and I read each one and they gave me my tools.
The work is hard and the nights are long,
we all do our duties and work with a song.
Occasionally a crewmember leaves you see,
and we pick up a new one to replace he.
So now on the Dutchman I sail you see,
but I know it will not be for eternity.
Timothy L. Van Dyke
6/22/2013