Old Sailor Dan
Ushered through his small room by the sea
On his balcony, watching the ocean, sipping his tea
With graveled voice says “Come lad, come sit with me”
“Visitors are few, this interview, glad the home agreed”.
“My name’s Dan”, shaking my hand, surprised at his grip
Handing me a cuppa, from which I take a small sip
Deep blue eyes, hypnotizing still sharp, so quick
Skin tanned like leather, gained from many an ocean trip.
Staring back at sea, entranced at where he spent his life
Noticing above his door two lanterns, green and red lights
Under the red lantern positioned for him just right
An old brass ship’s bell, he keeps polished so bright.
He sits looking out to sea, he knows where he belongs
Once again to ride the waves, this his heart longs
And soon at life’s end, upon this earth no longer
He will join with his mates at Davey Jones’s locker.
He says “I’m the son of a son’s sailor” and proud I say
Grandfather sailed old schooners to exotic ports far away
Sailing cold rainy nights or oppressive heat of day
To Tropical Island’s where rum flowed and island girls play.
My Father a merchant sailor died at sea in WW1
Germans, perfecting their U-boats were on a hunting run
Tragic part of my life 1917, for not just losing one
Left with Aunty; Mum fled never more to see her Son.
Thankful for those years, my Uncle and Aunt’s love
Also the roof over my head, when rains fell from above
Powerful feelings of the ocean’s call, born into my blood
Jumping a freighter, my adrenalin flowing like a flood.
He sits looking out to sea, he knows where he belongs
Once again to ride the waves, this his heart longs
And soon at life’s end, upon this earth no longer
He will join with his mates at Davey Jones’s locker.
Happy of those times, a fulfillment of my heart
Knew my love; the ocean and I would never part
1941 boarded a merchant ship making a new start
Befriending an “old salt” telling of his time on the “cutty sark”.
1944 to all, the horrors of ocean war came to be
Vivid nightmares, I truly wish no generation to see
Attacked by “zero’s” crew survived, except for three
From a raft, watch my “old salt”, sink to the depths of the sea.
For a moment we both sit gazing at the horizon
Chuckling, he notices kids jumping from a pylon
I imagined his life so adventurous when called upon
He says, “Great times were had, when free time was on”.
He sits looking out to sea, he knows where he belongs
Once again to ride the waves, this his heart longs
And soon at life’s end, upon this earth no longer
He will join with his mates at Davey Jones’s locker.
On a Jamaican Island drink was plenty, girls would sing
Never married, tied to one girl I thought was not my thing
But one was so beautiful, to be with her felt like a sin
Two weeks with this Irish rose, I promised a wedding ring.
My one true love, who could stop my ocean plight
To spend my days with her, always in my sight
Returning to that coastal village, to make her my wife
With war I lost contact, when almost losing my life.
Son, I’ve spent my life, on the crest of a wave
I’ve seen royalty, poverty, saved a few slaves
Bid goodbye to many friends in the ocean’s grave
When I pass, I give to you all my memoirs to save.
He sits looking out to sea, he knows where he belongs
Once again to ride the waves, this his heart longs
And soon at life’s end, upon this earth no longer
He will join with his mates at Davey Jones’s locker.
Months have passed, I think often of Old sailor Dan
Wrote my article of his life at sea, this humble man
T’was not the story drawing me to his home in the sand
But the tingling proud feeling, when first shaking his hand.
Never told him, my father disappeared to the ocean’s grave
Nor the chest we found hidden in his attic for many a day
In this chest a picture, a beautiful woman and child from far away
Was my grandmother, and was written “Dan, for you my love I pray”
Went to Dan’s funeral, I cried as his ashes were scattered at sea
Knowing that for him, nowhere else he would rather be
To be joined with Dad and Grand-mum, together as three
Finally, to find my Grandfather, the ending of a chapter for me.
He sits looking out to sea, he knows where he belongs
Once again to ride the waves, this his heart longs
And soon at life’s end, upon this earth no longer
He will join with his mates at Davey Jones’s locker.
David J Delaney
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