Nathaniel Bowditch

I hear you say this is your ship, your home away from home,
Because you sail her to far lands across the briny foam.
I also see the games you have, the cookouts and the fun,
I see you when you work on deck beneath a warming sun.
Enjoy this ship you mariners, drink a toast to her with wine,
But just remember this you men, it's not your ship,...it's mine!

Many nights I've walked these decks or stood against the mast,
Or sat upon the anchor chain and thought about the past.
I think about you mariners too who ride her o'er the sea,
But this has always been my ship since they named her...after me.

When you are out on deck at night and stare into the black,
Do you ever think that maybe there is something staring back.
Do you look over your shoulder when you have a sudden fear,
Your hands begin to tremble as you grab a cigarette,
Then suddenly the match goes out when the wind's not blowin' yet.
So heed my words you mariners, that have to venture out,
For I have my little secret ways, to show that I'm about.

So do not take her name in vain, say not a thing that's wrong,
Because I hear each word that's said, and my memory is long.
I hear the names you call her when you swear and joke and jeer,
Heed my words I warn you for I don't like what I hear.
And when the setting sun has gone and the evening stars come out,
I have my little secret ways, to show that I'm about.

Is that the ship's vibrations that make her creak and moan,
Was that the wind in mast and yards that caused that eerie tone.
All the little sounds you hear, the norm for ships at sea,
Are they caused by stress and strain, or were they caused...by me.

Is that flutter a sea bird's wings that's passing overhead,
Or someone laughing softly at your mortal fear instead.
Was that a fish that made that splash just off the starboard beam,
Is that squeak a rusty hinge or some far distant scream.
Is someone softly tapping or did spray just hit the deck,
Was that a breeze that moved your hair, or my hand that touched your neck.
Does the unknown make you wonder, does the darkness make you doubt,
Yes, I have my little secret ways, to show that I'm about.

Do not forget this is my ship, my soul is in her steel,
My breath is in her engines, my bones in ribs and keel.
Every movement that she makes as she plunges in the sea,
Or steaming on those calmer days, becomes a part of me.

So do not take her name in vain, or joke and jeer about her,
Or shall I make my presence known, you say you're still a doubter?
Then gaze upon my picture, look me in the eyes,
They follow you each step you take as you are passing by.
Oh, you can scoff when the sun is out, and laugh away your fright,
But do not be too brave my friend, tonight's another night.
And I have my little secret ways, to show that I'm about!

P. Blain
3rd Officer
USNS Bowditch T-AGS-21
May, 1974