The Wreck of the Pelican
One day the Pelican
FromBristolharbour ran,
Bound for the shores of tropicAfrica.
Aboard her there were ten,
(Four women and six men),
Who journeyed with her; each a passenger.
The weather, then, was calm;
The breeze a salt-tanged balm
Wafting the grimy smoke clear of the deck.
The turquoise-azure sea
Was all tranquillity;
There were no portents, then, of tragic wreck.
Soon out of sight was land;
The waves on either hand
Heaved gently out, as far as eyes could see.
As if in deep repose
Smooth billows fell and rose:
Nothing disturbed the great solemnity;
Save that the Pelican
Before a fair wind ran,
Creaming a whorling furrow as she passed.
The climate seemed to be
In such sweet harmony
The playful zephyrs might forever last.
For full twelve days she sailed,
Whilst kindly winds prevailed,
UntilGibraltarwas left far astern;
But then, early next dawn,
Dark clouds began to form
And gusty squalls the rising sea to churn.
During that long day through
The threatening cloud-hordes grew
Until they covered-over all the sky;
Strong winds started to howl:
Surly rough waves to growl
And fretfully toss spumy crests on high.
That night a great storm smote,
Seized on the fated boat
And shook her fiercely in its grasp of steel.
As shock succeeded shock –
Like hammers on a block –
She staggered in a crazy drunken reel.
As every huge wave reared
The passengers all feared
That moment to be cast into the sea;
But, though out of control –
Despite a frightful roll –
The Pelican would not yield easily.
Throughout that night she flew,
Whilst the wild storm-blasts blew,
Nearer the savage coast ofAfrica.
But just as frowned the dawn,
Bedraggled and forlorn,
She struck upon the reef that murdered her.
Then, through her riven side,
Swept in the roiling tide
Snatching at everything barring its way.
Though they fought boldly,
Yet they died coldly.
(Only three passengers got safe away).
All of her crew were lost,
Each one still at his post:
Dragged by the currents beneath ruthless waves;
Slowly they perished there,
Gasping for vital air:
Sternly courageous, they sank to their graves.
On the rough waters swirled
All that was left of her.
Mournfully tossing, amongst grim remains,
Just one frail raft survived
To succour three weak lives,
With one torn canvas to ward off the rains.
Numbed fingers, stiff and cold,
Maintained a frantic hold
On this poor craft as it writhed in the spume.
Pounded by breaking waves
They clasped the flimsy lathes,
Desperately battling a watery doom.
Two days they huddled there –
Fighting against despair –
Until the storm abated and their hope
Rose with the warming sun;
Perhaps a boat would come
To end their hunger and thirst’s painful scope.
Then, like a dove in flight
Hove a tall ship in sight,
Gliding towards them across the wide wastes.
Anxiously then, the three
Waved to her frantically
Till she replied to them and they were saved.
So they arrived one day
Where a calm harbour lay
And were set down on that African shore
Which had been their intent
Before Pelican went,
With her brave crew, to the rough ocean’s floor.
