68 Degrees to Port ( Poem ) |
Blue from West Oz |
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Master and Commander Posts: 2357 | Subject: 68 Degrees to Port ( Poem ) ...a poem, of sorts... Blue *_* “Flood in the Engine Room” The frantic cry is heard, Eyes wide open Large as duff bowls Curtains pulled back, Shipmate’s spring into action Bulkheads shut down Doors shut and clipped. 20 bow up, wheels amidships 500 feet, 490 feet… The angle is coming on Seems like an eternity FWD SSE is fired A red grenade makes it’s way To warn our Skimmer brothers Of danger below the waves It’s rough upstairs, so were told Brace for a heavy roll they say Sure enough 68 to port Where bulkheads become decks We rush into the Fore-Ends The fish are still in place Rig the ladder, prepare to leave Abandon Ship is not what we wish to hear The all clear is heard The Stokers save the day We marvel at the angle We managed that day On our way to Hobart Town We had a bit if fun Some call it danger But that’s still to come This is related to an incident back in 1986 on HMAS ONSLOW...hope you liked, Blue *_* | ||
Blue from West Oz |
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Master and Commander Posts: 2357 | Subject: and another one.... ...as it was a slow day in prison today! the 1st line is about four sailors who died at sea on HMAS WESTRALIA, back in 1998. The woman I refer to was a Midshipman and, it was her first day at sea. The '63 comment is of course the USS THRESHER and we were doing trials with civvy engineers onboard also, I shuddered when I realised the connections, and said to change the topic, about a minute later, all hell broke loose. My last day at sea was early December, 1998, one month to go before reaching 20 years and retiring. 'Last Day at Sea' Telling a story of four That died one day at sea It was her first No more was meant to be. Then the story went back to ‘63 Once again, a story of the sea A submarine, twisted wreckage Lost souls, but never forgotten We’re tempting fate On this special date Below the waves On my last day at sea I look at the Engineers And realize what we’re saying Let’s talk about the footy Of wine, women and song “Flooding in the Engine Room” The stories come back to haunt me As we head up to the surface On my last day at sea I fired off a red grenade My legs begin to tremble As I wonder what will be On this, my last day at sea My thought’s are of my family That’s where I should be And those stories come back to haunt me On this, my last day at sea | ||