Pardon the somewhat crass language but in the midst of yesterday's four hour sailing adventure,
Captain Jim responded to a self posed and somewhat rhetoric question "How was your day off?"
We departed Overland Park at 9:30 AM. It was sprinkling with a thick overcast. As we traveled
west and north to Lake Perry, the clouds thinned and the rain stopped. I doubt we have many more
70 degree days in 2009, so when we backed away from the dock at 10:30, we were pleased that the temperature was already a balmy 63!
I'll end the diatribe here by saying four hours later we were beat, but as you can see from the pictures, it was a good beating with strong winds and beautiful blue skies!
Thanks Captain Jim!
Son of a son of a sailor
By: Jimmy Buffett
As the son of a son of a sailor
I went out on the sea for adventure
Expanding the view of the captain and crew
Like a man just released from indenture
As a dreamer of dreams and a travelin man
I have chalked up many a mile
Read dozens of books about heroes and crooks
And I learned much from both of their styles
Chorus:
Son of a son, son of a son
Son of a son of a sailor
Son of a gun, load the last ton
One step ahead of the jailer
Now away in the near future
Southeast of disorder
You can shake the hand of the mango man
As he greats you at the border
And the lady she hails from Trinidad
Island of the spices
Salt for your meat, and cinnamon sweet
And the rum is for all your good vices
Haul the sheet in as we ride on the wind
That our forefathers harnessed before us
Hear the bells ring as the tight rigging sings
Its a son of a gun of a chorus
Where it all ends I cant fathom my friends
If I knew I might toss out my anchor
So I cruise along always searchin for songs
Not a lawyer a thief or a banker
But a son of a son, son of a son
Son of a son of a sailor
Son of a gun, load the last ton
One step ahead of the jailer
I'm just a son of a son, son of a son
Son of a son of a sailor
The seas in my veins, my tradition remains
I'm just glad I don't live in a trailer
By: Jimmy Buffett
As the son of a son of a sailor
I went out on the sea for adventure
Expanding the view of the captain and crew
Like a man just released from indenture
As a dreamer of dreams and a travelin man
I have chalked up many a mile
Read dozens of books about heroes and crooks
And I learned much from both of their styles
Chorus:
Son of a son, son of a son
Son of a son of a sailor
Son of a gun, load the last ton
One step ahead of the jailer
Now away in the near future
Southeast of disorder
You can shake the hand of the mango man
As he greats you at the border
And the lady she hails from Trinidad
Island of the spices
Salt for your meat, and cinnamon sweet
And the rum is for all your good vices
Haul the sheet in as we ride on the wind
That our forefathers harnessed before us
Hear the bells ring as the tight rigging sings
Its a son of a gun of a chorus
Where it all ends I cant fathom my friends
If I knew I might toss out my anchor
So I cruise along always searchin for songs
Not a lawyer a thief or a banker
But a son of a son, son of a son
Son of a son of a sailor
Son of a gun, load the last ton
One step ahead of the jailer
I'm just a son of a son, son of a son
Son of a son of a sailor
The seas in my veins, my tradition remains
I'm just glad I don't live in a trailer
No comments:
Post a Comment