Sea Fever by John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

John Masefield, © 1901, All rights reserved.

Before we left Durban for the South Coast, Heaven Admin took me to the Indian Ocean in Durban, South Africa, and we walked barefoot in the sand. It is a long time since I have been at any ocean. Many years ago, I spent spent time at the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, yet it's like I'm experiencing ocean as if I had never seen one before. What a wonder an ocean is.

The surf here at this point of the coast is rough, too rough for swimming or surfing or even wading! The tide was coming in, and as it swept over my feet, it also swept the sand away from under my feet. Heaven Admin said to keep looking up at the sky. “If you look at the waves, you’ll get dizzy. If you look up, you will stay balanced.”

Interesting metaphor really because God has said: “Keep looking up.”

I looked up and also helped to balance myself by holding onto Heaven Admin’s arm every now and then.

But how delicious the water felt wrapping itself around my ankles, how cool and deep and full of energy.

We were at the Indian Ocean at dusk. The sky I looked up at wore shades of gray. Very beautiful.

Santhan introduced me to ghost crabs. There were hundreds of them, skinny frail-looking tiny six-legged, two pincered crabs. They loved having the tide rush over them, and they made these perfectly round holes up on the sand where they could run for safety and hide from human beings.

There was a huge wall of dunes. These dunes were not made of sand but of some kind of exotic vegetation with illusions of caves and nooks in the greenery. Very magical.

I said to Santhan: “What would it be like to Godwrite here?”

He said, “Let’s find out. We’ll come tomorrow at about 5 a.m.”

So, the morning I write this, I am up at 3 a.m. as luck would have it. I have written down today’s Heavenletter, Meanwhile, no internet connection so there is a lot I cannot get to. So I’m waiting.

No photos at the shore yesterday. I don’t know how I could have managed a camera. Probably no photo could do the ocean, the sand, the ghost crabs, the dunes, the sky justice anyway, but there will definitely be photos of Palm Beach on the Hibiscus Coast of South Africa .