The Steamer

We picked up a coal-fired steamer

From a graveyard of ancient ships,

It had lain, beached up in the Philippines,

Sat on the rusted slips,

The ship was covered in surface rust

But it hadn’t gone right through,

So with elbow grease and some paint at least

My friend said, ‘It will do.’

We registered it in Colombia,

And we flew the Colombian flag,

We couldn’t afford to insure it,

And Derek said, ‘That’s a drag.

But we only need a single trip

And a cargo in the hold,

Like tractor tyres and some copper wires,

We’ll be rich when they are sold.’

He brought his girlfriend, Mary Anne,

Which I thought was a mistake,

He said that she’d come in handy when

We had to cook and bake.

‘I hope that she’s not bad luck for us,’

I muttered, when she came,

‘You mean those superstitious tales

That a woman is to blame?’

The bosun hired was a Robert Legg

Who had been at sea for years,

We didn’t know, as the trip would show,

He’d bring my friend to tears.

He helped to paint the rusted hull

In just one colour, black,

But leered when Mary Anne appeared

And behind Derek’s back.

We hired a couple of Lascars

To shovel in the coal,

Then ventured out for a cargo,

And ended up in Seoul,

We picked up a dodgy cargo,

Enough to make a run,

Over to western Africa

With computers, and with guns.

We named the ship the ‘Avant Garde’

And we braved the ocean swell,

It rolled and creaked, and even leaked

Like the cargo ship from hell,

But Derek’s mood was grim and dour

As we fought to hold the wheel,

‘Let’s hope that it doesn’t fall apart,

There’s a buckle in the keel.’

We spent our time up on the bridge

With Mary Anne below,

It doesn’t take a genius

To know how that would go.

For Legg spent too much time down there

Ensconced with Mary Anne,

When Derek questioned her, she said,

‘The bosun’s quite the man.’

He sent Legg down to the engine room

And he said to keep his place,

He wasn’t there for a holiday

Or to chat up a friendly face.

But Legg was sour, and Derek dour

When he caught them down below,

And said Legg’s hand was in contraband

Where he knew it shouldn’t go.

The Avant Garde had then burst a seam

Just above the waterline,

The water had started slopping in

We knew we were short on time,

By then Legg quarrelled with Derek, said

His girl was a free for all,

Was there to satisfy base desires,

Derek pinned him against the wall.

He hit the bosun across the head

With a long steel marlin spike,

Who fell at once and was good and dead,

I was told to take a hike.

I think he carted the body down

To the lascars down below,

Who bundled him into the furnace there,

No corpse, so who’s to know?

He told me later he’d fixed the leak

But he didn’t tell me how,

The ship then shuddered against a rock

That bent and burst the prow,

Before it sank I went down below

To witness a nightmare scene,

The body of Mary Anne was jammed

In tight, where it burst the seam.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' But Legg was sour, and Derek dour
When he caught them down below,
And said Legg’s hand was in contraband
Where he knew it shouldn’t go .'

I know, I know - shouldn't have laughed but..!

As ever always, David, you write your verse with such care, romp your way through what is obviously going to be a macabre tale..but AND and.. by the end of it all, leave the reader satisified but slightly shattered!

Your work is superb!

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Another tale caught me totally by surprise.

[Coyote Poetry]

A surprise ending to the tale. You make the story entertaining always. Great description of life and the boat led to the strong ending. Thank you David for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Tony Jordan]

I liked the inclusion of Mr Legg of the 'sea-Leggs' of course.
Jaysus, but the Derek fellow wasn't one to cross, eh?

"caught his hand in contraband..." brilliant wit and wordsmithing DLP.