In the summer, at the beginning of July, there is a tall ships race in Waterford that brings back the golden days of sail. Every time I'm on one of these ships I get transported back in time and have a feeling of being at home. There is just something majestic when out on the open waters the order is given to make sail and the beauty of the sails as they are unfurled and catch a breeze.
A Sailors Poem
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.