Spark, Gossamer, And Hope

Morning broke on the horizon, but the ship had already been busy for hours. My mates and I served our stations as the boatswain of the shift looked on, nodding approvingly. Our crew was well-oiled, and were driven by that spark of ambition fueled by the reward of gold and glory. We had both in spades. Our ship, the Good Lady Gossamer, was a fine Brig. She kept us well through some trying moments, and we paid her our respects by keeping her deck tidy and her rigging neat. Every man on that deck would give his life trying to keep that lady from going down. She carries our dreams and our fortunes, as well as 16 guns, below decks, and we are all happy to have earned a place in the line of 90 men serving her needs. She brought us to safety more times than we could count, and her wounds were tended with haste and care. Faster against the wind than she should be, the 'Lady keeps us returning to pay our tabs at the haunts we so dearly love. She brings us hope that we will be safe and whole when we return.

The boatswain moved aft as he continued to nod in approval. All was well with the 'Lady. Just as he finished his walk, the Captain appeared on deck with a pistol drawn and a scowl. "Gather round, Lads!" he shouted. " A vote is needed! " The crew looked confused, but moved as a group towards him. He never acted rashly, and never gave the crew a reason to doubt his command when he gave an order, but this was out of character. "Lads!" He charged, "We have a choice. Gold or Glory?" The crew groused, and a hushed murmur came over them. A small clump of men pressed a single one from the group. Thompson. A Gunner.
"Glory, Sir! There's enough gold in the 'Lady's hold for now. Any more an' we'll sink!" The Captain smiled widely.
"Glory? Today it's Glory? Do you all agree with Thompson? Yes? Well then, Glo..."
"Love, Sir." I interrupted.
"Begging your pardon? Love? What say ye, lads? Glory or 'love' as this man asks?" The men laughed. They all knew my story. They all saw the letters when I had fallen asleep in a drunken heap and let my guard down. And they make sure I remember how foolish it made me look to them. But I am a part of the crew, and that buys me a fair amount of room.
Thompson stepped up, stood straight, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Cap'n, Let's get this man home." My heart sank in my chest, and rolled over. I could not possibly have imagined this taking place. Thompson turned to the rest of the crew. "What do ye say, boys? Do we get this man home in the name of love?" There was a silence greater than the depths of the sea, and then the boys cheered. "LOVE!"

The Captain smiled. He came forward, put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me up to the rail with him. He looked at me with eyes that have seen the ends of the world. He stared deep into me, and then his face went softer than I had ever seen it before. "Lad, does she mean so much to you that you would let the crew put their fortunes and very lives at risk? Does she mean more to you than this fine ship and your service to her?"
I paused, wondering if that soft face was understanding of the situation. I saw in his gaze the look of a man once so in love that he would have made this choice if he could have. We all heard stories, but never from his own lips. His face, here and now, spoke volumes to me and my situation. I let a tear roll down my face. "More than that, Cap'n. I would give..."

The Captain watched from the rail as the man's body plunged over the side. He put the smoking pistol back in his belt and turned away. He quickly wiped his own tear from his own face. "You're home now, Lad. No more longing." He turned back to the crew and bellowed. "GLORY Today, my boys!" And they cheered...

fin




"Grey Funnel Line

Don't mind the wind nor the rolling sea
The weary night never worries me
But the hardest time in a sailor's day
Is to watch the sun as it fades away

Chorus:
It's one more day on the grey funnel line
It's one more day on the grey funnel line

The finest ship that sails the sea
Is still a prison for the likes of me
But give me wings like Noah's dove
I'll fly up harbor to the one I love

Chorus

There was a time my heart was free
Like a floating spar on the open sea
But now that spar is washed ashore
It comes to rest at my real love's door

Chorus

Every time I gaze behind the screws
Makes me long for St Peter's shoes
I'd walk on down that silver lane
And take my love in my arms again

Chorus

Oh Lord, if dreams were only real
I'd have my hands on that wooden wheel
And with all my heart I would turn her 'round
And tell the boys that we're homeward bound

Chorus

I'll pass the time like some machine
Until blue water turns to green
Then I'll dance down that Walker Shore
And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more
And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more "