WHY I DON'T LIKE POEMS THAT RHYME EXCEPT WHEN WRITTEN SO WELL THAT I DON'T NOTICE
Sea curled
furled
grey
day
gone
shone/ sun
done
moon
soon
(now actually)
(factually)
crescent
pleasant
easy
breezy
the right
goodnight
1630: N13 10.593 W70 04.967.
Speed 19.4Kn;
Course 252.
1815: I have just come in from filming the sunset and moonrise. You can see the loom of Venezuelan lights on the bases of the clouds, at least two to port (each end of an island perhaps) and one worryingly close off the port bow. But the course I saw on the chart was close to the headland where the coast turns at right angles to run NE/ SW and becomes Colombia.
A stunning sunset, but I didn't see the famous tropical green flash. I listened to Stevie Wonder (Talking Book, but without I Believe at the end) and very early Soft Machine - so early it has guitar on it. I don't know if it is Daevid Allen, or Jimi Hendrix playing very much within himself.
What do our places mean?
Just a happenstantial site for our events
should there be any
or is its earth in us, its blood
psychological clinging to our own cupboards
or physical need
there are people too in this part of the world
I hear them on the radio
shouting into this circle of islands
in Spanish and French
as if to tug the ship this way and that
favouring one island above all others
how soon until novelty is wrung from these small worlds
or the larger
and you must discover the earth or need for cupboards
to keep you going through your ration of rounds
crazy outside cafes
smashing up statues
new ways to drink rum
this kind and easy outerness
becomes just the stage on which
as usual we strive for significance
these matters are those we plumb who can
stuck on the oceans without places
lonely for what we know
knowing how little our significance signifies
we are convenient in our cupboards, though invisible
others like to know we are there.
1700: I had foolishly expected the Caribbean to be more entertaining than this. I thought I would see inter-island schooners, pleasure craft, things with interesting-colour sails, planes, lights. All we have seen is two ships off the Venezuela coast.
We should approach a headland soon, and then there is the highest coastal mountain range in the world - over 5000m, half the height of Everest and from a standing start.
I wish the evenings were easier to pass. It's such an effort to get through them. It is boring and expensive to live like this. And it makes you fat.
Apparently we will be boarded by soldiers tomorrow on arriving at Turbo. I am going to see what can be negotiated there in terms of access to the shore. It's too good a chance to miss, for all the dire warnings. We are three tough, big blokes. You would need guns to attack us and it isn't going to come to that.
0530: I woke up early again because the clocks went back once more. I am now thoroughly confused about how far back we are. I went on deck and the flying fish were very active. But by the time I had gone back with the camera they were hiding again, the swine.
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