Sailing into a fog,

Hoping for a wind.

Can't see beyond the fore deck,

Blind as blind can be.

Hours of nothingness.

Then a clearing shows.

A ship is dead ahead,

Hard a starboard, comes a yell.

Too late, we hit her broard sides,

Tearing each others hull.

Their captain was swearing-

Not much we could do.

The damage was not that bad,

And when repairs were made,

We continued on course

And picked up a strong head wind.

We reached our destination,

A little worse for tear.

Cargo was unloaded,

Crew off for a beer.