by Jools Chappel

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Every sailor
Down at Hythe-ville
Loved sailing a lot

But the Winch
Who lived just outside
Did NOT!

The Winch hated sailing!
The whole sailing season!
Now, please don’t ask why.
Now one quite knows the reason.
It could be too much pulling heavy boats in the past
It could be a tendency to over-run when pulled out too fast.

But,
Whatever the reason,
Clutch or trip-switch failures,
It sits there on Sunday, hating the sailors,
Staring out from its housing with a sour winchy frown,
At the eager sailors pulling their boats down.
For it knows every sailor is preparing again
By hoisting their jib and trimming their main.

“They’re donning life jackets” it snarls with sneer.
“It’s Sunday morning! Race time is here!”
Then it grinds with its motor and strains at its cable,
“I MUST find a way to prevent them, if I’m able!”
For, shortly, he knew …

…All the Hythe-ville ladies and blokes
Would finish their sailing. They’d all beach their boats!
And then! Oh, the loads! Loads! Loads! Loads!
The one thing it hates! LOADS! LOADS! LOADS!

Then the sailors, young and old, will take their boats down the path,
Drop them off in the yard! They’ll come in for a bath!
And they’ll DRINK TEA AND LAUGH!
Some will eat bacon rolls, and some will have cake
It winds the winch up when they all put on weight!

And THEN
They’ll do something it likes least of all!
Every sailor down in Hythe-ville, the tall and small,
Will stand on the balcony, with their jaws a flapping,
They’ll check race results; some may even start clapping!

They’ll smile! They’ll make merry!
Their boats all seem heavier than a crosschannel ferry!
The more the winch thinks “I must stop this whole thing!
“Why, for a couple of years I’ve put up with it now!
I MUST stop the sailors from sailing!
… But HOW?”

Then it got an idea! An awful idea!
THE WINCH DECIDED TO STRIKE WHEN UNWOUND OUT OF GEAR!

“I know just what to do!” The winch laughed in its throat.
And it waited until someone hauled up their boat
And took off the clutch so the cable sped with a hum
It ran on too much and crossthreaded the drum!

With grinding and grinching and sparking and smoke,
And fraying and snapping, the cable was broke!
The winch says “here, take your cable” with a laugh!
And Gordon and Phil had to cut it in half.
And for a while the sailors pulled their boats up the beach
With a cable and rope barely long enough to reach.
But, faced with a cable whose length was depleted,
Gordon and Phil would not be defeated,
Sourcing a replacement length was a cinch,
And between them they settled and fettled it onto the winch!

Now that it’s fixed, forewarned is fore-armed!
We can’t have our Sunday sailing sessions harmed!
So let’s pay attention and mind how we go,
And pay out the cable like the committee says so!
Watch for entanglements and keep it slow and sweet,
To ensure that the cable goes on the drum neat!
And operate the cable, if we can, in pairs,
With one on the balcony and one down the stairs.”