Crab Island Light

A tale of greed, and the consequences.

The sea beats in at the headland spur

Then rounds Crab Island Reef,

The rip is a grey and swirling dearth

That will drag you underneath,

Then it hums and moans as it rounds the reef

And it howls in a winter storm,

'Til it beats up hard on the inland beach

Where the Light still stands, forlorn.

 

I kept that Light in my younger days

With my wife, sweet Mary Anne,

She swept and cleaned while I kept the glass

Of those mirrors spic and span,

I cleaned and polished them well by day

And tended the Light by night,

To warn seafarers of reef and rocks

With the beam of the Island Light.

 

But evenings, then, we'd lock the doors

And we'd climb up, out of reach

For the crabs would swarm by their thousands then

From the reef, on the inland beach,

They covered the beach like a devil's plague

And scavenged for carrion flesh,

So we stayed inside to the skittering sound

Of the crabs, attacking the mesh.

 

My Mary Anne had a brother then

Who took to the sea in ships,

He'd often pass by the Light, and then

Would visit us, bearing gifts.

He brought joss sticks of sandalwood,

Of Jasmine, Amber and Musk,

His gifts of pearls and ointments, brought

In a longboat, nearing dusk.

 

He'd stay the night, and tell us then

Of treasures he'd seen on board,

Of perfumes, gold medallions,

Of silver, an endless hoard.

We joked about smugglers long ago

Who'd lured ships onto the rocks,

Then killed the crews as they crawled ashore

And carried the cargoes off.

 

Young Martin, he was a friendly lad,

And he loved his sister well,

While she adored, and she spoiled him too

For the tales that he had to tell,

But I - I sat by the sweeping Light

And I thought of the wealth of men,

While I slaved long for a pittance there

To care for my Mary Anne.

 

His ship was known as the 'Frankfort Rose',

An old three masted Barque,

One of the last of the sailing ships,

As old as the 'Cutty Sark'.

I knew her movements from year to month,

From week to day to hour,

And when she passed by the Island Light

I'd have her in my power.

 

Winter came, and the gales they blew,

And the sea raged round my door,

The 'Frankfort Rose' was heading back,

With a fortune from Singapore,

I left my wife to her knitting then

And I climbed back up to the Light,

But I struck the flame and the dark came down

Black pitch in the dead of night.

 

Then dimly out through the blackness there

And over beyond the rocks,

I saw the lights of the 'Frankfort Rose'

As she dipped and turned, quite lost.

I heard the crunch of her timbers then

And screams from her frantic crew,

As the ship went down by the battered stern

And the sails were rent in two.

 

The sound of splintering timbers echoed

Over the driving gale,

My Mary Anne came running up,

'My God - but the Light has failed!'

I tried to soothe and to calm her down

But she screamed in pain and rage:

'My brother's out in that storm tonight,

He's gone to a watery grave!'

 

She ran back down and I sparked the Light,

Too late, but now I knew,

That I'd be blamed for the wreck that night…

I'd say: 'The Light just blew!'

I raced below on the spiral stair

But Mary Anne had gone,

She'd taken the longboat, pushed it out

To battle the raging storm.

 

The blood just drained from my face, I leapt

Across to the open door,

The storm had whipped up the swell, white caps,

The boat was far from the shore,

I watched her battling monster waves,

And screaming Martin's name,

But then the bodies were swept ashore…

And I was the one to blame!

 

I crept inside and I locked the door,

Then cowered in the dark,

All thoughts of cargo and wealth were gone,

I wished I could take it back;

But nothing could save the souls out there,

They'd all be drowned, to a man,

I should have searched for my only love,

But I thought I'd seen her drown.

 

The early light brought me out once more

To the ravaged, lonely beach,

The cargo lay all about, it seemed,

But out of my mental reach;

The bodies lay, and I saw her dress

As it moved - I thought it a dream…

Then the crabs poured out, and I seemed to hear

My voice, as it rose to scream.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Lena M. P.]

What a wonderful tale of greed and the sea's. The life of a sailor was one of peril and yet of adventure worth taking the risk. To be tied to the lighthouse must have crushed many a soul as they lived on the tales of others.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

You knit your words together into the finest sweater, and I hug its warmth to my heart. Your words are like the slow, flickering flames of a warm fire on a chilly eve.

Having heard you read your poetry before, I can hear the intonation of your voice while reading this poem. The finale is an incredible visual as well.

Nicely penned!

Linda Marie Van Tassell

[Leah Simone]

Such a great tale - I could see the events unfold. The rhyme and meter of it - lent itself to
sea-faring legend wonderfully - almost - Tell-Tale Heart in twist and macabre. Loved the gruesome ending of the crabs moving out of her dress - very cinematic - could definitely work well as a reading with motion picture (silent type) film....in black and white of course - except for the dress. I enjoyed it very much - I was imagining he killed himself with grief and we still see the light that used to be shining when storms are at their worst - sort of his duty beyond the grave - his need to make up for what happened - the guilt never-ending. I'm teasing you - I don't wish to change your work and make it a cliche' - don't blame a girl for having a bit of fun! I did love the story-poem. Bravo!

[Norma J. Jessee]

Greed has been the ruin of many an otherwise good person. It has been the cause of numerous crimes. and as your poem shows it all too often backfires.

I absolutely love the way you tell stories with your poetry. You seem to always make a point nothing is left to chance.
Beautiful work.

[Wildfleour]

How horrific and grisley - yikes

But what a wonderful narrative poem, David!

[Poeticpiers]

as fine an example of narrative verse as I have read in many years I doff my hat in admiration ivor