The Race Poem by Tango

On a summers evening 1965

It was four in the evening,
when on the yacht Mavis we set out to race,
across the English Channel, to Cherbourge,
the wind was blowing, at a steady pace.
There were thirty boats, in the fleet or more,
little did we know, what the night had in store.
Twas around two in the morning, when the rogue wave hit,
the boat came to a sudden stop, the mast snapped,
and over the side went it.
We had no lights left with which to see,
so a red flare was lit by me.
There in the water entangled in the rigging was Dave,
he was the first thing that we had to save.
We pulled him on board, with a piece of rope,
on the side of his head he had a big lump,
so we took him below, and laid him on the bunk.
Next all the rigging over the side of the boat,
had to be cut clear,
for a hole in the hull, being made,
by the broken mast, was our biggest fear.
About one hour later, it was all stowed and ship shape,
then we all stopped for ten minutes,
and ate some fruit cake.
We started the motor, and set up a jury rig,
by dawns early light,
and carried on to Cherbourge,
Thankful that we had survived the night.

~Tango~