brian eiland
Senior Member
- Joined
- Jun 3, 2002
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- St Augustine Fl, Thailand
Glad someone saw the message. I only had just finished the football game and came back to catch this notice about the screening
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A friend recently sent me this very funny parody on John Masefield's
famous poem, 'The Call of the Running Tide'.
While there certainly is an element of truth in this poem, I don't intend
to demean the wonderful, technological Maltese Falcon, as I am awed
by her. But I also chuckled with this excerpt,
"I must go down to the sea again, with RAM in gigabytes,
and teraflops of processing for hobbies that I like,
And software suiting all my wants, seated at my console
And pushing on the buttons which give me complete control."
________________________________________________________
Here is the full poem: (and I am not the author)
I must go down to the sea again, in a modern high-tech boat,
And all I ask is electric, for comfort while afloat,
And alternators, and solar panels, and generators going,
And deep cycle batteries with many amperes flowing.
I must go down to the sea again, to the autopilot’s ways,
And all I ask is a GPS, and a radar, and displays,
And a cell phone, and a weatherfax, and a shortwave radio,
And compact disks, computer games and TV videos.
I must go down to the sea again, with a freezer full of steaks,
And all I ask is a microwave, and a blender for milkshakes,
And a watermaker, air-conditioner, hot water in the sink,
And e-mail and a VHF to see what my buddies think.
I must go down to the sea again, with power-furling sails,
And chart displays of all the seas, and a bullhorn for loud hails,
And motors pulling anchor chains, and push-button sheets,
And programs which take full charge of tacking during beats.
I must go down to the sea again, and not leave friends behind,
And so they never get seasick we’ll use the web online,
And all I ask is an Internet with satellites over me,
And beaming all the data up, my friends sail virtually.
I must go down to the sea again, record the humpback whales,
Compute until I decipher their language and their tales,
And learn to sing in harmony, converse beneath the waves,
And befriend the gentle giants as my synthesizer plays.
I must go down to the sea again, with RAM in gigabytes,
and teraflops of processing for hobbies that I like,
And software suiting all my wants, seated at my console
And pushing on the buttons which give me complete control.
I must go down to the sea again, my concept seems quite sound,
But when I simulate this boat, some problems I have found.
The cost is astronomical, repairs will never stop,
Instead of going sailing, I’ll be shackled to the dock.
I must go down to the sea again, how can I get away?
Must I be locked in low-tech boats until my dying day?
Is there no cure for my complaint, no technologic fix?
Oh, I fear this electric fever is a habit I can’t kick
PS: No one can claim that Maltese Falcon is in any way, shackled to the dock...not with her sailing record.
And the material science didn't exist to build the dynarig full scale at that time. Even then we are so short sighted in the scheme of things, particularly this looming oil problemIt sports a 'dyna sail' rig that I first read about in 'Popular Science' magazine way back in the seventies. Shortly thereafter Oil prices plummeted, making the system instantly irrelevant.
MDG said:She left Grenada on December 29th, sailing North to Carriacou...