The Wreck of the Coorong

[Jasper Brush]

The Wreck of the Coorong

Down by the shore the crowd patiently waited,
searching the sky for the flying boat— Coorong,
and way in the south-east wind gusts, oscillated,
with rattles of thunder that pealed loud and long.

First a speck and the sound of engines droning,
they stood and watched the plane come into view;
she banked around and passed over the city
she’d arrived, at last— her Australian debut .

Down— blunt nose down— in a glide to the harbour,
her underbelly glistened; over sullen waves she flew,
and with creaming, bow wash, slid up to her mooring
and by five-thirty was safely moored by her crew.

Three cheers, the mail-route from England was open,
and celebrations— at the Darwin, G.P.O;
whilst above the sky flashed white with lightning;
and with gale force winds, a mighty storm, did blow.

Mighty fists hammered, and shook her port side,
thin squalling clawed fingers tugged all around;
then just after nine; the mooring lines parted
and with a jerk, she was off, down-harbour-bound

The heightening gale unleashed all its fury
screeching and wailing sounds— demented warlocks;
and quickly a gust smashed her nose into a landing—
shifted the hull and tailplane up onto rocks.

The Navy and bystanders rushed to her aid;
they tied rope strops, braced her as best as could be.
To no avail, the cyclone bounced and ground her;
by morning, she lay, back broken, down by the quay.

Assessors reported she was badly damaged,
she was modern, and beyond-local-repair.
So, she was cut up and shipped back to England;
our first flying boat to deliver mail by air.


John Macleod

[Maureen K Clifford]

Here's another little gem that got overlooked along the way - read and enjoy people

Cheers

Maureen