From a Young Sailor

Port call again, our boat is cursed! In ten days we’ve gone twice to sea and twice returned broken, in so few days, so broken. Our drills to test her prowess fail. She fights us back with some of hers that make no sense at all but take us churning back to shore to wait for more repairs, just wait. I should be doing useful things somewhere if not aboard this boat, this sub, this Bold One, some would say.

Instead I rot, as she will not, on this dry land and make great effort not to die from boredom learned in port. Too still, It’s much too still. And so, this sailor’s fleeting time will pass; but I want more, much more than this, this so few days at sea. Patricia Long July 5, 2003