An old saying comes incredably true
Just north of the middle of the lake
The wind had died our way dead stop
When from the south there came a pop
Of a large bore gun trained on the Jake
A giezer of water just short of our strake
Was a signal not to be ignored
New York law was seeking to board
State troopers signalled to the Jake
To heave to and be prepared to take
On troopers to inspect our vessel
To confirm our crew and cargo legal
With no wind to move and the engine dead
There was no choice but to be boarded
As N Y troopers came aboard
To see if Jake was in accord
With the border and with the law
We were in Canada from what I saw
I grabbed the sextant from the cabin desk
And took my spectales from my vest
I shot the sun and marked the time
And found Jakes position on the dime
"We're four miles north of your jurisdiction
So go back and stop this interdiction"
"You're in foreign waters there's no doubt
You're invaders sure you officious louts
Go back to the States and do it quick
This isn't your baliwick
They shot the sun but none too fast
It seems they weren't too skilled at math
But in the end they had to agree
I was right so the Jake was free
Then from the south there came a roar
That only Packards make for sure
From the east a fast boat was speeding in
The launch and Jake were still rafting
The trooper's boat tied to Jake's haunch
Our hull and bullworks hid the launch
So the unarmed Jake was plain to see
But the launch was struggling to get free
All Jake's hands dropped on deck
Our fear that Jake would become a wreck
As bullets from the boat's Maxwell guns
Were spewing lead by the ton
Our main was stitched a pretty row
But the main mast survived somehow
Unscathed as yet by that rain of lead
We thought that we would soon be dead
It was Al and his nasty crew
Bent on murder as the fight insued
The troopers still rafted to the Jake
Were cutting line and making wake
We could see the look of shock and fear
As the NY launch began to clear
Jake's stern their Thompsons roaring
And Their large bore gun a blazing
A hole appeared in the fast boat's hull
At its waterline then with bilges full
Began to sink while they blazed away
Until they finally saw that they
Were were sinking fast and about to be
The guests of New York's constabulary
It ended fast with the boat far gone
Its crew all wet and going down
Under threat of smoking Thompson guns
The survivors were chained to deck irons
the Launch now bound for Sacket's Harbour
the Jake and crew began the labour
Of mending the mainsail and other damage
We made repairs as we could manage
We'd made it through without a scratch
As a lucky crew we had no match
The wind arrived we bent on sails
For Kingston Town still a hundred miles
With a patched main and his deck canted
Jake bounded off the crew expended
With Jake now running full and by
We sat back glad to be alive
After that tricky test of luck
Where Hoover's boys had saved our butts
Jake sailed all night we each stood watch
While the other two were down the hatch
To snore and rest from what had been
The luckiest day we'd ever seen
That battle left us tired sore
But with spirits high we checked our store
And laughed at the insanity
About the enemy of our enemy
Poetry by josephus
Read 696 times
Written on 2013-06-20 at 01:28
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VII The Enemy of My Enemy ... The Laird Jake
Lat an long put the JakeJust north of the middle of the lake
The wind had died our way dead stop
When from the south there came a pop
Of a large bore gun trained on the Jake
A giezer of water just short of our strake
Was a signal not to be ignored
New York law was seeking to board
State troopers signalled to the Jake
To heave to and be prepared to take
On troopers to inspect our vessel
To confirm our crew and cargo legal
With no wind to move and the engine dead
There was no choice but to be boarded
As N Y troopers came aboard
To see if Jake was in accord
With the border and with the law
We were in Canada from what I saw
I grabbed the sextant from the cabin desk
And took my spectales from my vest
I shot the sun and marked the time
And found Jakes position on the dime
"We're four miles north of your jurisdiction
So go back and stop this interdiction"
"You're in foreign waters there's no doubt
You're invaders sure you officious louts
Go back to the States and do it quick
This isn't your baliwick
They shot the sun but none too fast
It seems they weren't too skilled at math
But in the end they had to agree
I was right so the Jake was free
Then from the south there came a roar
That only Packards make for sure
From the east a fast boat was speeding in
The launch and Jake were still rafting
The trooper's boat tied to Jake's haunch
Our hull and bullworks hid the launch
So the unarmed Jake was plain to see
But the launch was struggling to get free
All Jake's hands dropped on deck
Our fear that Jake would become a wreck
As bullets from the boat's Maxwell guns
Were spewing lead by the ton
Our main was stitched a pretty row
But the main mast survived somehow
Unscathed as yet by that rain of lead
We thought that we would soon be dead
It was Al and his nasty crew
Bent on murder as the fight insued
The troopers still rafted to the Jake
Were cutting line and making wake
We could see the look of shock and fear
As the NY launch began to clear
Jake's stern their Thompsons roaring
And Their large bore gun a blazing
A hole appeared in the fast boat's hull
At its waterline then with bilges full
Began to sink while they blazed away
Until they finally saw that they
Were were sinking fast and about to be
The guests of New York's constabulary
It ended fast with the boat far gone
Its crew all wet and going down
Under threat of smoking Thompson guns
The survivors were chained to deck irons
the Launch now bound for Sacket's Harbour
the Jake and crew began the labour
Of mending the mainsail and other damage
We made repairs as we could manage
We'd made it through without a scratch
As a lucky crew we had no match
The wind arrived we bent on sails
For Kingston Town still a hundred miles
With a patched main and his deck canted
Jake bounded off the crew expended
With Jake now running full and by
We sat back glad to be alive
After that tricky test of luck
Where Hoover's boys had saved our butts
Jake sailed all night we each stood watch
While the other two were down the hatch
To snore and rest from what had been
The luckiest day we'd ever seen
That battle left us tired sore
But with spirits high we checked our store
And laughed at the insanity
About the enemy of our enemy
Poetry by josephus
Read 696 times
Written on 2013-06-20 at 01:28
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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