Sun, sea and salt sky. I am resigned To a Flying Dutchman's tour Through endless Pacific wastes. To helming forever Beneath an inquisitor's sun, stars Like dust on the sky. The wind, though light, never fails. Her jibs hard-edged against Orion.
Te lapa bursts to starboard - Flashing green underwater lights.
A sign the Polynesians knew. We turn that way or the boat turns herself. Dawn, noon, nothing from the spreaders. We are lost. I gain the deck, sluice, glance up.