Song of Tropicbird

I hear some crazy shit on this boat.

Swishing & gurgling of 12,000 foot deep ocean currents against the ship’s wooden hull (a mere 1.5 inches thick), my body laid only 6 inches on the dry side of it. water all around me whispering in strange tongues, long slippery multi-syllabic serpentine words, swelling up and under me in deep blue scales, melting away like ice cubes in a whirlpool.

I hear music, all kinds of music. if there’s no Jambox on, it’s not coming from a speaker.. (which it almost never is).

The auto-pilot motor is a perky tireless laughing gasping leprechaun, hee hee, hahahahaha.. heee, heee, ooh ah hahahahaha. aaaah! it’s creepy, and strangely comforting.

The wind rushes and wails, but sometimes it calms down, causing the giant 40-foot headsails to billow.. sounds like thunder, or a really big Thumper.

Is Sea Foam a color? yes. Does it make a sound? indeed: fizzy – like a really big carbonated drink.

Drawers slamming open and closed are straight-up poltergeists. BOOm!

General banging around inside the boat could probably be best imitated by Animal from the Muppets on his drum-kit.

The rigging and electrical wires run up the two aluminum masts, slapping down some flagpole percussion as they clatter inside like a runaway dog that’s still on-leash, racing along a resonant floor.

Voices, voices, voices. Voices of girls, of men, of tortured demons through a portal to hell. Evil voices, groaning and throat-singing throughout the night. why does the gate open only after dark?

There are three things out here: the water, the sky, and this boat. Who’d think there could be such a varied, imaginitive (its not me – it’s the musicians), multi-dimensional and thunderous soundtrack?

[ insert Lady-leprechaun GaGa-haha Remix here ]

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