The stars are the map I unfurl

The stars are the map I unroll; they steady the helm

Oceans beckon me – circumnavigation is an ancient aim

The Quest is ready, the epic underway to a silent tumult of waving

Odysseus, Magellan, Drake, Chichester… the single-minded…the tenacious.   I too raise my arm in farewell

The boat lifts as the sails fill.  I am let loose to the winds’ narration

Arms, shrinking into the distance, shout Haste ye back!  God speed!

Dry your eyes, my loved ones: my family, my friends!

I am merely a dot on the horizon.

Waves above, waves below, heaving and heartless.

Tipping and dipping, toppling from wave crests, shuddering through troughs

A watery topography, alien, treacherous

It has taken its toll

The Quest is all discomfort and distress; but gentled back to seaworthiness

Up, up go the sails again. I do not hear the rattles, the stresses and strains

She lurches crazily, almost capsizes.   Reefing, battening down, holding my nerve

At last a port where I can check her over: hull, rigging, steering

Just one last cape to conquer, one final ocean to prevail against

She is bursting with new life; full of anticipation, eager with sea stories

They are waiting for me, their lone sailor; eight months, 32,000 miles

They are waving, applauding like a field of wheat/ flock of birds. She is a white swan on a grey morning

The miles, the months dissolve in damp eyes

I step ashore.  My family steadies me; my friends anchor our pride

Alone, I have circumnavigated this turbulent globe.  I pinned my hopes to the heavens, to the silent stars.

Da starns is da map I unrowl,
dey steady da helm.

Der aye bön fock wantin ta sail richt

Waves abön, waves below.
Da ocean is tizin me.

Odysseus, Chichester …
A’m raisin mi airm an aa.
Shö lifts as da sails fill.
A’m lowsed tae da winds’ tales.

Dunna greet, my dearies;
mi ain fock, mi freends!

A’m jöst a mintie dot apö da horizon.

Tippin and dippin, dirlin
owre wave taps, shudderin
trowe troughs.
A watery laand, uncan, faersome.
Hit’s taen hits toll.

Da Quest is aa benwark an distress,
aa scars an scrapes.
I gentle her
back to her fine swack wyes.

Feelin da rattles,
da stresses an strains. Reefin,
battenin doon, keepin
a calm sough. Shö waavers lik

aa but capsizes.

I unreef da sail
unfurl her smeddum.

Jöst wan hidmost cape ta conquer
wan yark, a hidmost
kyöderin
o her stays.

Shö’s laek ta spret
wi new life, aaber,
foo o sea stories.

Der waitin for me,
der lone sailor.
Eicht mont.
32000 mile.

Shö’s a whicht swan apön a grey

Der a mird o birds, a flaachter.

Da miles, da monts
mizzle awa in damp een.
A’m mi lane, A’m met hit roond
dis unsettlt globe.
I preened my hoops tae da heevens
tae da silent starns.