They are wresting you from my arms,
Andrew, to a marine railway where
You will be refurbished, stripped of all
You know and were. Rusted steel
Cannot be made whole with paint or
Welds. We both realize that now.
Your electronics and wiring are
Weather-worn. Surging salt seas
Cannot wreak further decay.
Yes, you will still be the same proud
Trawler I love, rebuilt inside and
Out, your strength renewed for
Sea duty. New radios will reach
Home from deep-sea canyons.
Improved radars will penetrate rain
And visualize smaller, distant targets,
Plotting your arduous, crested course.
I will be there when they disconnect
Your batteries, a silent soul in deep,
Reluctant sleep. Dream about
Adventures we shared while they
Sandblast and paint your hull,
Transform your towering super-
Structure to gleaming white, and
Recondition your churning heart,
A Caterpillar marine diesel engine.
And when you return, I will spark you
Back to life, reborn my sea-faring
Love again. I will fire up your new
Engine, inhaling crisp air, breathing
Fire from your exhaust. We will take
Fish, defiantly making white water
In unyielding foam-streaked seas.
Dear Andrew, with tempests howling
In your rigging, you have always guided
Me home. As mechanics perform each
Task, it’s my duty to watch over you,
With caring heart and eye, as they
Add years to your noble life, many
Months we can escape to oceans
Deep, Hendrix blasting, burying your
Sharp bow in exploding spray off the