You practically need a glossary for this one ...

not to mention charts, graphs and the like.
As for why I wrote it, frankly, I have no idea. The only way to get this doggerel out of my head is to get it out of my head ... really!

Selected Transcripts of the Admiralty Court Inquest
into the Series of Strange and Unnatural Occurrences
which recently transpired Aboard the Schooner
Alice Marie at 28 degrees N. lat, 81 degrees W. long.

by William V. Breyfogle

The sea was all glassy, the sky was full clear
when I logged for the Dog Watch at three.
we was bound out of Kingston on a northerly track
my schooner, the Alice Marie.
We carried a cargo of chickens and rum
and some fine, fancy coffees and tea
all the rigging was tight, the helm answered right
when we entered the Devil's Sea.

Now, a sailor will tell you, that sea is accursed,
that it lies 'tween perdition and hell
but on charts it appears, as mere dots on the map
and marked most by gentle sea swells.
But some call it "The triangle", some call it "that place".
but all try to shun it, y'see.
for all sailors know that there's evil below
when you sail on the Devil's Sea.

So, our sailors were edgy, we'd heard all the tales
of crews gone with nary a trace.
Of strange winds that would blow, and of ships dragged below,
by some fiend in that terrible place.
The lookouts saw fairies; the helmsmen heard sounds
the seas shone with strange, ghostly lights
Men swore they were haunted by shades of dead tars
Even I started seeing odd sights.

So, Cookie, he thought he would put us at ease
by conjuring up a great feast
There'd be huge heaps of food for our worrying brood
and steaks from all manner of beast.
But his recipe called for just a wee dram,
a dollop of rum, so I'm told
But his bottle was empty, his private stock gone,
so he headed below to the hold

He sampled one barrel, and the rum tasted fine
but the texture was just a mite rough
"This crew deserves better," he thought to himself,
"God knows we've barrels enough."
So he tried the next barrel, and one after that
But the flavors all left him quite vexed.
So he kept right on sampling, on down the rows,
to the next, and the next, and the next.

Now his rum tasting took him the rest of the day
'fore he found the penultimate blend.
And that painstaking man, when he told himself "Stand!"
His wobbly legs countered, "Descend!"
So his head, headed down, hit the rail, headed up,
And he bashed himself on the skull.
As he lay there alone, his pitiful moans
echoed ghostly-like all through the hull.

Now, the Mate, he was napping way back in the stern,
awaiting the night's dinner bell.
when his blood ran cold, 'cause from out of the hold,
came the cry of some lost soul in Hell.
"A demon has got us. I'll sound the alarm,"
he thought as he leapt to his feet.
But in his drowsy half slumber, he forgot where he was
and that he legs were all tangled in sheet.

As his bunk toppled down, it hit with the sound
of a terrible, horrible crash.
The boom echoed up to the fantail where
A crewman was dumping some trash.
Now the ghostly moans and the crash from below
had startled that jumpy man so ...
That, when his brawny arms reached to the end of their swing,
The sailor forgot to let go.

So, with a cry and a crash, and a bloody great splash,
the swabbie went over the side.
So he grabbed for a rope, like it was his last hope
and hung on for quite a wild ride.
Then, the lookout, aloft, heard the commotion below,
and he turned 'round to look and to gape.
For he saw a great "demon" there, hooked on a rope,
skipping in and out of our wake.

Now, meanwhile two deckapes was swabbing the deck,
while another was stoning the teak.
And they looked to the sky, at the lookout's wild cry
what they saw there made them go weak.
The lookout was screaming and pointing in shock
as he slipped and fell towards the deck.
With a mournful wail, he slid down the sail,
and landed right square on my neck.

With a pitiful squeal, I let loose the wheel,
and was "lights out" a minute or three.
When I came to at last, we was spinning round fast,
toward the rocks at Chinaman's Key.
Now, remember the Mate? He had rose from the mess,
but was still all tangled for fair!
So he wandered up topside, all moans and white sheets
‘twas enough to whiten your hair!

The sudden appearance of this ghastly pale shade
made the deckapes careen off in fright
When they all tried to squeeze through the forecastle hatch
the three of them started to fight.
So they kicked and they hit, and stomped and they bit
as they pushed and they squeezed through the door.
And one musta' kicked o'er the hurricane lamp
'cause the kerosine started to pour.

Now, it's well-known the Bosun, he likes his cigars,
he smokes ‘em by night and by day
But when the fracas broke out, he started to shout,
and threw his old stogie away.
When the butt hit the pool that was formed all of fuel
from the lamp that lay crushed 'neath a foot
it gave off a black cloud, like a foul-smelling shroud
that left Bosun all covered with soot.

When the crew saw the Bosun, now a hell-blackened beast
striding through smoke and through flame
They thought 'twas the Devil, come after their souls,
come nigh to kill and to maim.
But the flames leapt up higher, into the sails
till the spars and the sheets were aroar
as the flames licked the rigging, the air filled with sound,
as the mizzen and mainsail both tore.

In the panic and route that was next to break out
the helm swung itself hard alee.
'Midst the shouts and the shocks, I forgot all about rocks
that guarded the Chinaman's Key.
So poor Alice Marie rammed right into the Key
and the rocks ripped her belly to bow.
But the Bosun, the Mate, the deckapes and me
all made it to shore, somehow.


When they found us days later, we was all drunk on rum
we'd been feasting on chickens and tea.
But I swear t'was to block out the suffering and pain
that came from the Devil's Sea.
For who’s to say how the Devil can work?
How he'll drive a poor sailor to drink.
How he'll blind a good man to the path up ahead
and betray him, then, quick as a wink.

You can say what you like, 'bout our ship and our crew
you can say what you like about me.
But I'm telling you it was a demon from hell
that wrecked us in the Devil's Sea.
For, some call it "The triangle", some call it "that place".
but all try to shun it, y'see.
For all sailors know that there's evil below
when you sail on the Devil's Sea.


--end--