“Oh, these masts are such pretty, tall things,
I will sit here and dry off my wings,”
But a cormorant’s big,
When he sits on our rig,
Unaware of the chaos he brings.
We broke off conversation, mid-word,
When such banging and thumping was heard,
And we ran up on deck,
But all’s clear — what the heck?
Then we looked up. “Hey! Scram, you dumb bird!”
We were down below when the sound reverberated throughout the boat. We were sure that either a) another boat had collided with us or b) our anchor was dragging. But it was just an effect of the hollow mizzen mast carrying the sound down to us!