Jack Ashore

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No more H.M. fighting ships. With taste of salt spray on my lips
No more feeling east winds bite Turning face and knuckles white.
No more one hour wheel-house trick, Nor climbing nimbly up the stick.
No more cleats and carley floats. Hawsers, lines and motorboats
No more orders to „turn to‟. Up Spirits‟ „away boats crew;
No more jaunty, number one. Three badge kilicks have also gone.
No more gulpers, sippers rum. Goffers, tickler ad nauseam.
No more pushers, runs ashore. In fact, I‟m jolly Jack no more.
At least I thought that was the case. But in truth I‟ve found a place-
A place where I am once again. In the company of real men
A place where we can swap our stories. Re-living times of former glories.
A friendly place of which we‟re fond. Re-united by a common bond
A bond of love and never hate. Where each to each is still a mate
We like a song, we like a tale. We like a pot of frothing ale.
Where is this place that makes my day? It is my local R.N.A.
As soon as I am through the door. I am ‘Jack ashore’ once more