The Dutchman's Mast

In the aftermath of a terrible storm

That stripped all the trees of leaves,

I ventured out when the sun was warm

To check on the roof and eaves,

We’d taken a battering, windows out

And shutters were shattered and lay

All over the floor, what shocked me more

Was what lay out in the Bay.

 

Our beautiful bay with its azure depths

Had stretched way out to the sky,

Had linked it to the horizon blue

Like a tint from another dye,

But now the smudge of an island lay

Not fifty yards from the shore,

With the wreck of some ancient buildings there

Thrust up from the Devil’s maw.

 

It must have been a volcanic ridge

That had sunk in the distant past,

And lying beside the wreck of a bridge

The remains of a Dutchman’s mast,

The ship was wedged by a roofless wall

And was half filled up with silt,

While scattered across the floor of a hall

The glitter of something gilt.

 

I called Marie, ‘You should come and see!’

But I must have seemed distressed,

‘You won’t believe what the sea’s retrieved!’

She called, ‘I’m getting dressed!’

I’d pushed the dinghy into the sea

Before she could join me there,

With a flushing cheek that had been asleep

And a comb in her bright red hair.

 

We rowed on out to the island, we’re

The only ones on the coast,

‘At least we’re getting to see it first,’

Was the one thing I could boast,

We pulled the dinghy up on the land

And made the painter fast,

Then walked toward the glittering floor

That lay by the Dutchman’s mast.

 

‘I think that they must be guilders,’ said

Marie, and her hands had shook,

‘The heads are all of William Three,

They were pictured in some book.’

I said, ‘Let’s go and explore her then,’

And I pointed to the ship,

But she was filling the leather bag

That she carried high on her hip.

 

‘There may be treasure and precious stones

As well as the guilders here,

This is the chance we’ve waited for,

We’re going to be rich, my dear!’

We walked on up where the silt was high

And found ourselves on the deck,

The timbers under us creaked and groaned

As we searched the ancient wreck.

 

We fell in the Captain’s cabin through

The planks of a rotten floor,

And there was a sight to sadden, he

Still sat by the cabin door,

His clothes had rotted around his bones

His head was down on his hands,

A quill was still in his bony claw

But the book had turned to sand.

 

I saw Marie had a tearful eye

And I said, ‘What grieves you girl?

He had his day, and he’s well away,

His was a different world.’

But she sank down on her knees by him

And clutched at his tattered sleeve,

‘I knew that I’d seen this ship before

But didn’t have time to grieve!’

 

And then she fell in a trance, and knelt

As if to deliver a prayer,

Started to babble in Dutch, I think

As if I wasn’t there.

The timbers creaked and a sudden groan

Had filled that cabin space,

The sound had come from the naked bone

That was once the Captain’s face.

 

I turned, and dashed from the cabin

Climbed a stair that led to the deck,

Jumped on over the side, I had

To get away from the wreck,

I thought that Marie was behind me

As the island began to sink,

And jumped on into the dinghy,

Before I had time to think.

 

The sea rushed over the island as

It sank back down to the deep,

I call Marie in my nightmares on

The few occasions I sleep.

The island, guilders, buildings all

Sank down again at the last,

And the final thing that I saw out there

Was the tip of the Dutchman’s mast.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Marie]

So Marie came face to face with her last incarnation...and found the love of her past life was stronger than her love in this one...

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Great story David! :-) always a great storyteller!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I love this. For me, the grief of Marie over the discovery of someone she once loved (in my mind, her father) far outweighs the loss of her man. She was so grief stricken to discover someone she noticed that she forsake her own life.

[Daniel Sala]

A lovely tragic horror tale of love lost to the deep. A sad poem and very descriptive, the words bring the whole epsisode to life. As ever, your storytelling skills combined with a poet's talent create a pleasure to read.

[Bob Sherunkle]

Incredible story telling Mr Paget.I could visualize the scene. Beautiful.