The End Of The Flying Dutchman Poem by David Welch

You've heard of the Flying Dutchman,
the ghost-ship that travels the seas,
there's countless legends about it,
a great deal of variety.

Some say it's just cursed to wander,
a result of some ancient sin,
a crew long dead, yet still out there,
never to touch dry land again.

Others call it apparition,
that appears when weather is tough,
an omen for those who see it
that sailing is gonna be rough.

There are those who say its captain
cursed the wind when it helped him not,
and for that it blows against him,
never to reach the bay he sought.

Some claim it has ghosts for sailors,
and if you come upon the thing,
they'll give you letters for people
who are long dead and moldering.

Many say that the damned crew it,
and sail the seas brining torment,
seeking souls they can prey upon,
then straight down to hell they area sent.

Sadly, these wraiths twice-doomed by dead
are the closest tale to the truth,
oh yes, I say, the ship was real,
a true terror all sailors knew.

It's no mistake that I say ‘was, '
that part most people do not tell,
since few enough know what happened
how the Dutchman and it's crew fell.

It was back in 2004,
down south by Cape of Good Hope,
the crew of rotting revenants
was on the lookout for fresh boats.

They sensed a vast buffet of souls,
their captain cried out, "After her! "
They did not realize this ship was
an Arleigh Burke-class destroyer.

It was bound for the Middle East
to help destroy terrorist scum,
the Dutchman came on their radar,
truly confusing everyone.

"It wasn't there, "the ensign said,
"Maybe it's a stealth vessel, sir? "
The captain said, "I'll take a look, "
and then went outside to observe.

He stared through his binoculars,
say a sailing bark, mottled and grey,
it's sails were full, there was no wind,
how were they even under way?

It was a bizarre sight to him,
a museum ship on these waves?
He was puzzling over this
when from the ship a bright burst blazed.

He heard the scream of a weapon,
saw a splash a hundred yards off,
were these fools firing cannons?
It seemed so bizarre, he just scoffed.

But the cannons kept firing,
the balls coming closer each time,
then one bounced off their metal stern,
and back to the bridge he did climb.

"I think those guys might be pirates? "
he said to a much-confused crew,
"Whatever the case, they hit us;
gentlemen, you know what to do."

An ensign handling weapons
worked with radar to get a lock,
pressed buttons and two missiles leapt
off of the ship with a slight rock.

"Harpoons away, "this ensign said,
"Impact in a minute or less."
The captain nodded, strange as this was,
they'd picked on the wrong ship to test.

Out on the Atlantic waters
across the waves the missiles screamed,
striking the Dutchman amidships,
blasting the ship to smithereens.

The gory bodies of the dead
were shattered or burned by the blow,
the whole hulk sank beneath the waves,
a bunch of sailors watched it go.

An ensign said to the captain,
"Sir, we should report the attack."
The captain shrugged, "I guess we must,
but you know they're just gonna laugh."

Sure enough, that is what they did,
figuring it local pirate types,
they made note and forgot of it,
continuing on to the fight.

That's how the Flying Dutchman sank,
though no one knew it at the time,
the folklore is still going 'round,
the stories still passed down the line.

It's me, the naval analyst,
who put these pieces together,
spurred on when I saw less instance
of ships sinking in bad weather.

Part of me thinks it's kind of sad,
to see an old legend vanish,
knowing I can't tell anyone,
they would laugh me out over this.

But I suppose we benefit,
so in the end it's fine with me,
the ocean is dangerous enough
without ghosts out roaming the sea.