Mayday. . . Mayday ! . .
Mayday, Mayday – a voice in the night.
Agonising, harrowing – reflecting the plight
Of a boat with its problems, way up the coast.
Alarm bells clattering, its time once more
Sending our saviours to rend sailors
Away from deaths door.
Launched at ten past two in the early morn.
Our boat is on its perilous way.
Length of time ‘til contact?
In these climes, too hard to say.
With seas arising and a gale near full bore
It’s up to our intrepids to even the score.
Mortals against sea, is the measure for them.
And naught of thoughts for what might be.
It’s a rising Nor’wester, that’s for sure.
Another gruelling test that sets before
Our gallants to meet head on
Over the hours that beckon once more.
The yacht is the target that has lost its way.
Along with tackle and sails, including mainstay.
With the seas surmounting, its time to assess
The need for a ‘copter to help save the day
Against elements of unaccountable thrust
And bring off the souls by which risk is less.
The die is cast - the ‘copter above
Brings off the mortals, one by one.
Within these wild seas, it is far too late
To save the yacht from its certain fate.
A small sacrifice by any account
For saving souls was the aim of the game.
For our attendant vessel, its time to depart
And head back to home, back to the start
Another distress met against tempting fate
Its adversary always ready to pounce
Once more our brave boys are put to the test
And do what they do and do at their best.
Two hours later, they are released from the sea.
Away from the dunes of water, some forty feet steep.
Home port at last for our gallant team.
Safe from their hardy and selfless extreme.
God bless everyone of you that bring
Hope and salvation to those in peril on the sea.
