With one last hug, a kiss and we’ll be gone.

Leaving behind our love ones and our cares,

a poignant moment lost amid the noise.

Good wishes, hand shakes, smiles and quiet tears,

 

The cord is cut; mooring lines let go.

The planning and the stowing reach that point  –

where all at once we find ourselves alone.

The things we left behind, now never were.

 

Excitedly we wave to other boats.

Good luck we shout in answer to their calls.

The start is clean and all the yachts reach off.

The long race new and we are going well.

 

The days fly past. We leave them in our wake.

Some clean and straight, others a tortured path –

but we are one, a team of close knit friends,

whose strengths and weaknesses we understand.

 

The finish line, a Pilot Boat and beer.

A cheering crowd of friends and love ones there

to greet us lovingly at waters edge

with wreaths and leis, sweet perfume in the night.

 

Then all at once I miss the quiet times

spent in lonely thought upon a deck,

where men and sea and sky meet as if one;

the All is simply sailing to our goal.

 
 

David Garlick, Victoria, August, 1992
 

Victoria Maui Race