When the fickle winds blow, they do not blow true
Nor in any direction convenient to you
They rile us, beguile us, transcending frustration
As we dream of quick voyages and not to be late in
May the wind blow us sturdily t’wards land and t’wards gates
And let not dreaded wind holes and bobbing await.
Hope everyone's having a breezy afternoon.
Hooroocobbers,
Cam, Bob, and the cruisin’ Ha Long Bay, Viet Nam crew