Sailing

The Matey’s Log

This space is devoted to my accounts of the voyages of Captain George Moll and his stalwart crew aboard Misfit, his fine racing sailboat. In other corners of this blog you may read of politics, the arts and current events — but The Matey’s Log has none of that. This page is about sailin’, by thunder! And any man what’s got a gripe with that will be keel-hauled, sure!

If you want to better understand the Matey’s periodic flights of colorful 19th Century English Navy prose, I suggest you make your way through every one of Patrick O’Brian’s seafaring novels, if’n you please.

And after finishing Master and Commander, you’ll be ready to take to the sea with good Captain George and his mates as you enjoy these past entries in The Matey’s Log.

Of Human Ballast: The Tri-Point Ocean Race 2011

The Matey’s Log: The Hardway 2011

The Matey’s Log: A Birthday Voyage. Newport to Ensenada 2011…

The Matey’s Log: Newport to Ensenada

The Matey’s Log: Of Wind & Fog

Sailing with the Tsunami

The Matey’s Log: Sailing Season Begins

The Milt Ingram Trophy Race 2013

With apologies to “Barrett’s Privateers” by Stan Rogers

 ‘Twas in the year of our Lord ought seven, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

A fine set of foulies was a Christmas gift,

If I knew what was comin’, I’da set ‘em adrfit,

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

Oh, Captain Moll, he cried the town, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

For stout brave men all ignorant who

would make for him a most comical crew

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

‘Ol Sprit Decision was no love at first sight, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

With a devil red spinnaker we couldn’t stand

And Tom in the galley with a sandwich in hand

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

Our first big race saw a winter gale, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

We manned the fo’c’s’le — soaked in spray

Fightin’ that devil rag all the way

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

By the end o’ that year we’d hadn’t won jack, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

But Captain George aimed to put us all right

And with Curiosity made to fight

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

Curiosity lay low down with weight, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

She was broad and fat and rated too well

If the winds wasn’t up we were buggered to hell

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

This summer we raced Sprit Decision again, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

But our crew was crack and the winds did blow

And we stood to win the series with two races to go

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

Crossed the line 3rd in the penultimate race, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

But a bloody damn fool just off our bow

Lost control of his mis’rable scow

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

‘Twas I on the bow when the bastard’s prow, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

Tore our starboard railing off its pegs

And damn near carried off both me legs

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

 

So here I stand in my 51st year, (I wish I was in Ojai now!)

It’s been two years since I sailed away

And damned but I’d do it all again today

God damn them all!

I was told — we’d race the Channel for a trophy of gold

We’d fire no guns — shed no tears

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.

I’m a-wastin’ here on an Oxnard pier

But one of George Moll’s Privateers.