A reported sighting,from afar-like a lighted candle,in an old jam-jar.
At the Boathouse,up went the flare,
A Coaster,they say!
Past the Old Tennis Courts,the Fish Market,we came a running,
From Penhale,Desmond and Channel-View,
The Huggetts,The Boniface's,The Hurds,to name but a few!
Stormy Sea,Force 8,Ice Cold,Little Light!
Heave open those great red doors- the hidey-hole of our trophy -Beryl.
Some donned their Yellow Skins,and Cork Waist Coats,whilst others pulled on ropes and Chains,moving wooden blocks,we pulled her out!
No easy way down,via the metal slip-way,whose rollers speed her up,
The tide's way out!
Down on boards,we pulled dear Beryl,
Between the local fishing fleet,beached together,as if asleep!
Across great shingle banks - making sure her bottom never floundered.
Waist -deep we were,in this salty English Christmas morning water!
Her Screws turn,
We wade to shore,ice forming now on our wetted clothes,
Home,for a hot cupper,a bath,and a light snack!
The telephone rang out!
All were safe,the message said,
So to the beach,between the groynes,to drag her home,we came.
I took my Camera,to preserve - a moment in history - time!
We All stood still,and waited,as She came in sight - Photo!
Now calm was this water,in Evening sunlight,
Attached the winch -cable,grabbed a rope,
Slowly,Slowly - we All pulled her out!
Two local women, Photo! - on a rope,
"Beryl",now safe,outside the Boathouse,we unload,letting our live cargo out - Photo!