“The boat seems small, the sea wide and the land in all directions a long way off. Like a climber on the ledge, I have to suppress the awareness of all that room beneath me. Concentrate on the boat. Look to the sail. Check you are on course. Do not consider the hugeness of the sea.”
My friend Biff relayed this quote to me. Apparently it’s from a book called ‘Sea Room’. It’s my mantra, for now.
Speaking of the sea, when I was really young, my mother used to sing a song to get me to sleep at bedtime. I always remember it. It’s called ‘The Skye Boat Song‘. Skye is a Scottish island.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunderclouds rend the air;
Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
Follow they will not dare.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean’s a royal bed.
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Many’s the lad fought on that day,
Well the claymore could wield,
When the night came, silently lay
Dead in Culloden’s field.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Burned are their homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men;
Yet e’er the sword cool in the sheath
Charlie will come again.
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the sailors cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be King
Over the sea to Skye.
Actually, now I look at it, I only remember the first five lines and I’m sure my mum wouldn’t have been singing to me about burning homes and death! I think she probably repeated the first couple of verses to the parts about ’soft shall ye sleep’ and ‘weary head’. Well, it must have been affective then at soothing me off to the land of nod. I do remember though that my mum had a beautifully soft singing voice. I’ve not heard it in a good while, well apart from occasionally when she’s loading the dishwasher and I’m over for my dinner. Anyway, I’m off to Skye at the weekend. Never been before. Looking forward to it. Even though I’m going all the way on a bus via the bridge, I’ll do my best to concentrate on the boat and look to the sail.