I leaned against the rampart walls
And looked across the bay
At sea and clouds and screaming gulls
On a wild exciting day.
“Ferry across” the boatman called,
I walked to where his craft was moored.
She tossed and rocked from side to side.
I paid my due and climbed aboard.
The sea was strewn with coloured sails,
And a large and bossy pleasure boat,
Rising and falling with the swell
Small craft bobbing as they float.
Then suddenly, there came in view
Such a proud and graceful sight,
A gliding coble under sail
Like a great white bird in flight.
Her prow sliced through the waters
As she ran before the wind,
With a quality of grace
That no power could rescind.
Among a myriad of craft
This excelled all others,
She was a legend of delight
Her name was “The Three Brothers”.