And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariners' hollo!
In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'
God save thee, ancient Mariner!
>From the fiends, that plague thee thus!
Why look'st thou so?
With my cross-bow
I shot the Albatross.
-----Original Message-----
From: on behalf of Reid
Sent: Fri 8/24/2007 10:09 PM
To: Birding Aus
Subject: Re: Pelagic trips
I won't go down to the sea again,
To the lonely sea and the sky,
For I've found that on a pelagic trip,
When the sea heaves, so heave I.
Regards
Reid
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