Turn On It, Tune Out, Drop In

S WIND 25 TO 30 KT...RISING TO 30 TO 35 KT IN THEMORNING...THEN...EASING TO 25 TO 30 KT IN THE AFTERNOON. GUSTSUP TO 40 KT. COMBINED SEAS 14 FT DOMINANT PERIOD 12 SECONDS.

The final installment...now the surf should improve.

VII.

The ocean guest lyves in yon wood
Whych corn'rs 'gaynst the mayn.
He'd charge grand surf styll if he could!
But in gent'l waves now must play
Old age hath made hym wane.

Check'n swell morn noon ayn eve--
Styll mindsurfs sea curls:
Gaz'n from a rock lin'd shore
Perch'd beach bound 'pon ancyent burls.

A ancyent man approach'd the guest:
He appear'd tortur'd ayn wrought!
"Yea hath I seen thys soul afore
The ocean guest he thought.

"Hail Ancyent Watyrman! the ocean guest he say'd--
"Ayn answer please mine questyon.
"What happen'd that dark day?
"Proud thou wert ayn sea God lyke!
"Thus I may say I nev'r thought
"Ye ne would make that wave

The Watyrman hys eyes far off
Was long sylent fore he spoke:
"The sea is deep ayn dark ayn cold,
"It's hands doth grasp below
The Ancyent Watyrman's sere myen,
Cruel ordeals dyd evoke

"Dear Fryend! It was a heavy wave--
(The old surf sage reply'd)
"Wythyn the tube I say'd--"Push on!
"But was suck'd back deep insyde.

"Driv'n deep into the depths,
"From there was ne escape!
"I felt no payn, myne air run out
"Then acceptance of mine fate!

"Then Levyathan he dyd appear,
"Hys hulk it shook wyth dread:
"He rays'd me up, brought me back;
"Too late, yea I was dead.

"That beast he made a dreadful sound,
"Ayn sky ayn sea he smote:
"I had been down for seven days
"My body was now afloat:
"Then, in a dream, I found myself
"Wythyn the Spyryt's boat.

"In a whyrl, down plung'd the Shyp,
"Dyzzy it spun round ayn round:
"Then all was styll, quyet untyl
"I stood sudden on solyd ground

The Watyrman then paus'd ayn said
"Ye can ne'er ken what's wythyn ye.
The ocean guest then rais'd hys eyes
Ayn byd the wrayth contynue.

The Watyrman smyl'd a know'n smyle,
It was both sad ayn wyse,
Then laugh'd out loud for a long whyle
To the ocean guest's surpryse,
"Ha! ha!" quoth he--"now playn I see,
"That the spyryts were in dysguyse."

"The ground it was my own Countree
"I stood on the fyrm dry land!
"The Watyr spyryt stepp'd ashore,
"But yet could scarcely stand.

"O shryeve me, save me, Spyryt Man!
"I cry'd out in fear ayn payn--
"Say quyck,"quoth he, "You have a chance
"Wouldst thou surf agayn?

I wonder'd if thys was a tryck
They'd come to play on me,
They would hold sweet promyse out
Then leave me in agony.

But in that such uncertayn state
Not lyv'n ayn yet not dead,
Unto the seraph spyryt soul
I beg'd for surf,---I pled

We pass'd, lyke nyght, from sea to sea;
Ocean swells the spyryt rais'd;
I surf'd on clean ayn perfect waves
Ayn I was truly bless'd;
Even before the hugest surf
My lungs ayn soul unfaz'd

I had wyth me myne trusted gun!
Ayn surf was every where;
From distant seas oft came the Bryde
Ayn to I the groom was wed:
Thys unlyfe roll'd in tyme unclear
Untyl one day I say'd:

"Spyryt guide why hath my soul been
"So fortunate been chosen
"Alone amydst the wyde wyde world:
"To ryde thy waves ayn ocean?

Then sweet'r than the perfect peak,
Seem'd sweet'r far to me
The spyryt say'd in sooth
"Oh Watyrman, you hae pass'd the test.
Soon man agayn you'll be

Return'd we then to mankynd's shore
He byd me kneel pray ayn hear,
He sayd "To waves you were true born,
"Now you are true born agayn
"Ayn yon waves ye should ne fear.

"Farewell! I'll tell you Watyrman
"A wise surf secret to thee!
"He surfeth well who loveth well
"Both wave ayn wynd ayn sea.

"He surfeth best who loveth best,
"Waves both great ayn small:
"For our dear God, who loveth us,
"He made these waves for all.

Then the man, hys eyes styll bryght,
Tho' hys beard wyth age was grey,
Depart'd from the ocean-guest
On long gun he strok'd away.

He went to sea ne'er to return
But hope stoke hys story gave:
To all the groms ayn ocean guests
That yet ryde upon the waves.