Nantucket Sleigh Ride Poem by Robert Sheridan

Our longboat was pulled along a darkened sea
We, like ghosts of whalers before, were mounted upon our splintered seats
The whale pulled us windward with a tremendous hate
Its tail flung water in several white-capped waves
And they smashed upon us, as-to taunt and hamper;
Alone the whale swam, on a mission of its own
Pulled us, pulled us – through the dark and wet
As we rode, images of you dear Maggie appeared on the waves crest
You seemed to speak to me, “I love you Samuel, infinitely”
Your voiced muffled as the longboat continued to sway and creak;
The whale nodded its head, as–if agreeing to continue the chase
The oarsmen’s hands, now bleeding – the harpooner summoned –
Readied in the bow of the longboat, bloodstained shirt, calloused hands, weathered face, oil-stained boots - his life’s station
We are here because of you, whale - the Nantucket Sleigh Ride continued;
Years of whaling rides upon my dreams, the nightmares – nighttime screams
I call out for you Maggie and our children, to draw you to my heart
But after nearing the shore to see you all, I row back out to the New Bedford
Unfaithful in love, kept secret by the un-mourning sea water
A landlubber’s life a student, the whaling life a tutor;
Deep with its first dead, like the lamb lead to slaughter
Robbing families of their dear ones
Like grains of aged sand – runs in the veins of darkened water
After taking its first whaler’s life, it hastens the others –
The ones who quickly suspend their wayfarer deeds, now ended;
It is in the small things that I am blind –
Our children’s first steps, their first words; holding you close... no longer wait for thee
Somewhere, somehow, the joys that I knew, rode out with the tide
I have often wondered, what did you see in me?
Was it my touch? My smile? – now all hidden, from the beauty of your eyes;
My thoughts of you quickly disappear, even if only for a moment
As we continue the chase – “Mr. Right Whale, we’re going to be picking an iron harpoon out of your liver! ”
“Come about all ye oarsmen, come about ...

'2007'