Three Men in a Tub Redux

Three Men in a Tub Redux

Neil and Doug slept too late and the bus departed without them.

That missed Earth Day trip starts this tale and triggers this poem.

Perhaps you have heard the story all you want, so hide your eyes,

For here again is the adventure of a small boat and three Tech guys.

Too late for the bus but awake too early, this pair to the City does go

To lower Manhattan at Saturday's dawn when city life is slow.

Through the unpeopled streets they walk and explore;

Only garbage and delivery trucks replace the horde's roar.

Wall Street is tall and windswept, echoing a faint silence,

And Trinity Church in its glory houses an absent presence.

Down streets and across, the grid leads them around and about

Until their path at the Battery Park waterfront peeks out.

The sun is now up through a light fog, toasting the air,

And the residents appear, shifting from here to elsewhere.

Neil and Doug pause to scan the river, its traffic and flow,

When behold, in a small sailboat, it is Diego.

Climb aboard, he offers, and let's share this morning ride.

He manuevers the tiny craft to pull up to the wharfside.

Neil and Doug look down at the drop to the water,

Then taking the plunge, they join the intrepid boater.

The bold little craft swings out to challenge the river's tide

Which washes downstream against the sail's force applied.

Our trio is swept forth, down, out, and into the harbor;

Progress resisted, windpower overwhelmed, they flounder.

We need a repair, says Diego, looking over the boat's stern,

So to the north shore of a small nearby island they turn.

I will make the fix, he says, while you look around.

So Doug and Neil scramble out and onto the ground.

Hey, look, there are buildings. Wonder where we are.

Let's wander to check it out; it is not very far.

So, over they stroll and enter by a back door

Into ages of litter and dust on the floor.

The corridors pass by large rooms with glass half walls,

Open for inspection by everyone patrolling the halls.

Abandoned in pieces, the rooms' stories are muted,

And, by curiosity, farther in, the adventurers are guided.

The hallways brighten as they enter the building main

And emerge at a dock where a half sunken ferry was lain.

Two men are at work feeding wood into a fire

When they spot the interlopers and respond with ire. 

 

Whats you boys doing here, yelled the little man in the hat,

This here U.S. Guvment property, and youse gotta scat.

Joining his partner, the large man moves the axe to his shoulder

And, for our young men, the air grows suddenly colder.

Under guard, four abreast, they march back whence they came

While little man lambasts them with abuse and shame.

At Doug's side, We ought to break your legs, he says.

The goliath grunts and Neil jumps a foot sideways.

Despite threat and dread, back to where the boat is moored,

They load in with Diego and push off with a broken board.

There are not many who ever can match their claim

That expelled from Ellis Island is now part of their fame.

The battle against the river once more they renew

But their efforts and plans again go askew.

They cross east to discover at Governors Island they arrive,

The Coast Guard headquarters with its docked fleet of five.

Their curiosity was untamed by their Ellis Island escape,

So in amongst the cutters they sail and wide-eyed gape.

Surrounded by walls of steel out of the water erected

The sail goes limp for all winds are deflected.

But the windlocked lads have gained the needed tool,

That broken old board, now a paddle in the tranquil pool.

With many a stroke, they turn themselves about

And with indeed many more, they eventually get out.

The sun has grown high and the tide has at last turned;

To get to Hoboken is top priority for all here concerned.

A zigzag course across the Hudson's unassisted flow

Should now be possible although still slow.

So off to the west at a hope filled angle they sail

And, finally, progress eases up on their travail.

They approach the Jersey side and tack to the east

And their eagerness for home is greatly increased.

But Diego is not happy with the rudder's performance,

As he peers over the back and takes another glance.

His fix has loosened; he needs to do it again,

So he passes forward a small cable to straighten.

With a small twist here and a bend or two there,

Neil gets the cable ready for the repair.

Diego leans over to rethread the rudder

With confidence and skill and maybe a mutter.

The repair continues as New York side grows nearer;

Doug sees faces onshore and hopes soon for a steerer.

Diego sits up at his helmsman position and with a snap,

It is off to New Jersey, hopping a passing ship's whitecap.

In midriver, Diego decides the repair is not quite right,

And again requests the cable reshaping to correct the slight.

From Neil, another twist and another couple more bends,

And the cable back to Diego to make more amends.

Diego resumes his midcruise repairs, when Oops he does utter

As overboard to the river's bottom goes that part of the rudder.

All is not lost, says resourceful Diego to calm his crew,

We just need a bit of string, like a lace from a shoe.

Doug at his pair of “modern” plastic loafers does look,

While Neil, for a loose string, the plug in the hull mistook.

With a quick little tug before anyone can stop him,

He retrieves this bit of cord, so crucial yet slim.

Oh, what a surprise! A trinkle of water starts to come in

And it is then that Neil announces he cannot swim.

In the boat are two lifejackets; Diego wears one.

Getting Neil into the other is the next course of action.

The plug once pulled afloat will never return,

So, to its new duty, it goes over the stern.

Doug's Korfam shoes are now buckets to bail

As over the sides the incoming water they flail.

The piers of Jersey City are a welcoming sight;

When the boat reaches, to them it's steered tight.

Skirting the shore, poking in and out and around,

The crew creeps back to Hoboken's safe ground.

Neil leaps from the vessel and plants a kiss on the ramp,

Relieved to the utmost to be saved from a fate too damp.

Life on land is celebrated with a trip to Washington Street

With the most wonderful Cuban meal they ever will eat.