THE LOST ALBATROSS

Chapter 1
LOST

The storm was rough and turned the sea
Most every way of sailed degree
With waves in cross and giant swells
That boiled to ring King Neptune’s bells.

The creatures blown by nature’s wrath
Sought no final epitaph
But fought the sea and gale aloft
Through heartless waves and ocean’s froff.

Within the air the birds on wing
Found no time to glide or sing
For truly both their life and limb
Were in a state so wholly grim.

One bird, a giant albatross
That, through currents sorely crossed,
Battled it’s way before the gale,
The only choice, to live or fail.

On through ocean fiercely taut
Came the bird that strained and fought
The elements of natures whim
And found a place to hide from wind.

A small isle on the rugged sea
Offered just scant sanctuary
For which this bird now dearly bid
And found a place where it then hid

There within the green shore line
Where seemed impossible to find,
The bird, so ravished by it’s task
Waited while the storm blew past.

As how the tempest had begun
Now found clear skies and warming sun
But that bird, great bird of yore
Still rested legs and wings ashore.

While the bird found respite there
It remembered sights fond and rare
On it’s home, an island past
And there upon were duly cast

Thoughts of it’s own special isle
Where fellow Albatross, in style,
Strutted and made their irksome way,
A life of ease on old Midway.

But there, a noise, within the shade
Caused the bird to freeze, afraid
Of what bold creature this might be
Upon this island bound by sea.

Closer came the monster to
The bird of yore on ocean’s view,
Closer came it’s course foot falls
And closer came it’s haunting calls.

Chapter 2
ATTACK

The gunboat blazed a wicked wake
And those aboard the Simon Lake
Veered to starboard as best they might
But still they lost both round and fight.

Explosions there to amidships broad
Then ripped the ship as far she yawed
Her destiny on hapless way,
She’d fight no more on any day.

The enemy ship with delight
Fired one last salvo in the fight
And then, all most gracefully,
The Lake slipped beneath the sea.

Those few who had escaped the fire
Had swam through waves of grim desire
There to avoid death’s broad grin,
These sailors, these most valiant men.

Upon the wreckage, there they clung
While thirsting’ under blazing sun
And Lt. J. G. Byron Holmes
Thought of those most poignant poems.

“Water, water every where
and all the boards did shrink.
Water, water everywhere
nor any drop to drink.”

At last when all had felt so lost
And sailors each decried the cost
A speck on the horizon spread
And bid the sailors, live instead.

Upon this island’s sandy main
That seemed most anything but tame
The sailors strained to stay alive
By any means they could contrive.

Two days, or who knows, maybe four
Passed for those marooned ashore
before they found a tiny stream
Of cool, fresh water, nearly clean

The food was sparse to say the least
For small islands present no feast
But still they made their tortured way
Upon the strange and forlorn bay.

With their great resourcefulness
They held themselves as very blessed
For neither ship that sank at sea
Nor untold war catastrophe
Could separate these fighting men
From their spirit to the end.

Green coconuts and food from shell
Could not keep them very well
For each man longed for meat and eggs
And southern fried chicken legs.

The only birds that sometimes came
After storms and bloody rain
Were gooney birds of graceful flight
But on land .awful sight.

The Lieutenant advised them all again
“We all will have meat in the end
If only we prevail ‘til then
And as we must, survive as men.

I think this must be Kula isle
Where we may have to stay a while
But we’re only a hundred miles or so
From Midway where the trade winds blow.

Regardless, we’ll keep a low profile
For the enemy is within a mile,
Patrolling straights near and far,
Just hoping to learn where we are.

One evening, after storms gone by,
Upon the beach they chanced to spy
Some slight movement at the tide
Where shore, sand and sea collide.

In stealth and to investigate
Two sailors held by islands fate
Approached that bit of sand and green
On the Island’s tropic scene.

There, the Gooney bird still lane
Far too weary to complain.
There to his fate he had succumbed
In a state still mildly stunned.

The sailors pounced upon it’s back
And held fast by their sneak attack
The bird could not but, give in
Resigned that it could never win.

Dancing with their prize On sand
The sailors thought it wholly grand
Then laughed and held it’s wings outright
And pegged it for a tasty sight.

Back at camp others surmised
This Gooney bird, not strong or wise
Should grace their tasty bill-a-fare
For each and every man to share.

The Lieutenant came upon the scene,
Looking grizzled and quite mean
And .listened to the sailor’s tale
Which one might think was of a whale.

Then in his own beleaguered way
The Lieutenant stood up to say,

“Did you fellows ever hear the poem
Of lost sailors far from home
And how the saintly albatross
Who, when killed, their souls had cost?”

None had heard the haunting tale
Of sailing ship that came to fail
And how an Albatross of fame
And errant sailors were to blame.

“I don’t recall the whole tale now
But giant Albatross, somehow,
Are lucky for a sailor’s plight
And damn bad luck to kill outright

The sailors mumbled their objection
And some looked down in dejection,
“But Lieutenant!” came one sailor’s voice,
“We don’t have any other choice.
It’s him or us who soon will be
Parched and starved before the sea.

Nonsense men, it’s skin and bones.”
The Lieutenant uttered in calm tones
“For all of us it would just be
One tiny taste of fricassee.

You know that it don’t belong here,
It’s off it’s course, a fate we share
I say we let it rest itself
For we need luck as much as health.”

With eyes that starred in disbelief,
The seamen, now immersed in grief,
Half heartedly gave their assent
But truth be known, not truly meant.

“Give it some shredded coconut
Or maybe some sea urchin cut
So it can rest a while like we
Abandoned in this lonesome sea.

The Gooney bird’s one leg was tied
To assure it would reside
In the camp where Swobbies gazed
As though already baked and glazed.

The Albatross regained it’s strength
And over days it gained, at length,
It's composure and attitude
Which for Gooney birds is always crude

It soon became a pet of kind
Though the sailors quite maligned
The unstable bird of yore
Who happened on this island shore.

After a week the motley crew
Voted again just what to do
With the ungainly Albatross
For now their hunger made them cross

Tomorrow would be the festive day
That the bird would meekly lay
Across their spit and gamily roast,
The sweetest bird on that small coast.

The sailors had all voted so
And each one had an added glow
That meant however sparse and lean
The bird that so inspired their team
Would be the banquet of a dream.

The night before in sleep they stirred
And dreamt of fowl smoked or cured.
And of their feathered castaway,
Their guest of honor the next day.

Slowly crept the rising sun
And as all days had begun
The sailors again rose fitfully
Which was their habit naturally

First seaman Bryant Starkey jumped
He spit out toward the open sea;
In disbelief, his shoulders
Then in a cry of agony

“Damn that bird, where has it gone?
It couldn’t even sing a song.
Come back I say, your fame’s assured,
Today we’re having Ala-bird.”

The other sailors had turned out
And now their lips formed a pout.
“What the hell is going on?
Our God damned main course is gone. (feathered)

The sailors scrambled too and fro
And searched the bushes row by row
But the dish of all their dreams
Had absconded from the scene.

Chapter 3
MIDWAY

Upon the runway it strutted stiffly
Shaking one leg rather briskly
While picking at the note it bore,
No doubt perturbed by it’s chore.

A soldier of the army air
Drove out to give it a scare
For these strange and awkward birds
Were troublesome beyond words.

The bird then, in a frenzied fit
Flapped and pecked with lack of wit
And at last the envoy of flight
Shook loose it’s cargo with delight.

The Army Airman with concern
Retrieved the paper there to learn
What mystery had so devised
This messenger and King of skies.

The message read these simple words.

"Survivors, south side Kulu isle. LT. J.G. Byron Holmes."

Incredulous as it may seem,
This shipmate of a sailors dream,
Had found it’s reasoned location
And delivered it’s communication.

No doubt, this bird of feeble mind,
As all the rest of it’s odd kind
Had no intent to serve a cause
Or disobey those runway laws

But as old sailors always said
Far better to be lost then dead
And God loves sailors, it is true,
For Jesus was a sailor too.

~Robert E Browne~