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The last week of October (2009)
A poem by Steve Taverner, IOW, UK

When we travelled to the island where they found Venus de Milos

We paddled with a German who forgot to bring a lilo

An Irishman who drank so much he laughed at all my jokes

A couple who liked rubber, and two young adventurous folks

 

Our guide, although Australian, was a thoroughly decent chap

Who knew each nook and cranny, so we didn’t need a map

He came here ten long years ago in search of glittering gold

But found things far more valuable which can’t be bought and sold

 

The day that we arrived we went canoeing with some Yanks

Who had the world’s best dressed marine canoeist in their ranks

I’m used to seeing people wearing gear made to impress

But I’ve rarely seen a paddler in a flimsy summer dress

 

But others in the party found the sea was rather cold

And thought that paddling with bare limbs was really much too bold.

I know they’re not, like me, protected by huge layers of blubber

But it makes you wonder what they do while clad in all that rubber

 

The wimpiest in all the group was a big girl’s blouse called Steve

Canoeing in a force 2 gale he couldn’t quite believe

Others revelled in the raging Bears at storm force seven

But when the sea was mirror like, Steve thought he was in heaven

 

The Red Car was well driven by the Irishman called Pete

With plenty of assistance and advice from the back seat

The warning lights flashed on and off, the water drained away

But still it got us to the start and home again each day

 

Carol tried repeatedly to get us all to camp

But others longed for luxury and feared the cold and damp

Pete and Carol disappeared for hours in a cave

And we’ve only got their word for it they didn’t misbehave

 

Helen’s rate of progress was unreasonably quick

Which made decrepit wrecks like me quite envious and sick

When she came here, she was still a novice so we’re told

But by the time she left the place she rolled and rolled and rolled.

 

Greg rolled even more that her with paddle, hands or float

It made you wonder if he knew which way up went the boat

In view of all the rolling, both in and out of sight

It’s no surprise that everyday they chose an early night.

 

Kirsten wasn’t desperate for a lover from afar

But still she pulled some rough old Greek while drinking in the bar

Then she thought better of it and repelled his passionate hugs

Before retreating up the stairs to polish her new jugs

 

The scenery was stupendous, the water warm and clear

The wind, most days, so light that even Steve had nought to fear

The week was truly memorable and we’ll be back alright

Bringing reinforcements from the glorious Isle of Wight