{"id":2546,"date":"2022-01-07T03:06:04","date_gmt":"2022-01-07T03:06:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/?page_id=2546"},"modified":"2022-10-05T07:09:09","modified_gmt":"2022-10-05T07:09:09","slug":"great-ocean-walk","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/poetry\/great-ocean-walk\/","title":{"rendered":"Great Ocean Walk"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Photos and Poems from the 100km walk along Shipwreck Coast of Victoria in October 2021<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

23rd October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tomorrow I start my forays<\/p>\n\n\n\n

to walk for a hundred odd ‘k’s<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the Great Ocean Walk<\/p>\n\n\n\n

with no-one to talk<\/p>\n\n\n\n

should take about 5 or 6 days<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a plan of a friend of my sister’s<\/p>\n\n\n\n

a large group of gals and few misters<\/p>\n\n\n\n

now I’m here alone<\/p>\n\n\n\n

with my camera and phone<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the track, my backpack, and my blisters<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I’ll leave from the bay of Apollo<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and I’ll post rhymes from hill and from hollow<\/p>\n\n\n\n

so if it gets boring<\/p>\n\n\n\n

just scroll on, ignoring<\/p>\n\n\n\n

or take the chance now to ‘un-follow’<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

24th October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Drawn toward the ocean’s egde<\/p>\n\n\n\n

where the current meets the ledge<\/p>\n\n\n\n

where immovable and irresistible collide<\/p>\n\n\n\n

in the endless swish and swoosh<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and the repetitious whoosh<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the continent does battle with the tide<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the seething sucking spume<\/p>\n\n\n\n

searches out each stoney flume<\/p>\n\n\n\n

leaving frothing eddies lurking in the lee<\/p>\n\n\n\n

while the cataclysmic spray<\/p>\n\n\n\n

fills the sky and fades away<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the wind is blowing in from the sea<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the wind is blowing in from the sea<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the gulls that ride the breeze<\/p>\n\n\n\n

turn their backs upon the trees<\/p>\n\n\n\n

who knows what prize they could have their eyes on?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and while they dip and dare<\/p>\n\n\n\n

they may neither know or care<\/p>\n\n\n\n

why their restless gaze is drawn to that horizon<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

neither can we each dismiss<\/p>\n\n\n\n

why we’re drawn to this abyss<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but we say it is the longing to be free<\/p>\n\n\n\n

yet whether gull or man<\/p>\n\n\n\n

we must all return to land<\/p>\n\n\n\n

like the wind blowing in from the sea<\/p>\n\n\n\n

like the wind blowing in from the sea<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

26th October – The Ballad of Eric the Red<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Haul away from the reef boys, haul away at the chain,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

don’t let us come to grief boys, carry us home again<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hear the sound of crashing waves over the thunder and rain<\/p>\n\n\n\n

we’ll all be dead, or Eric the Red will carry us home to Maine, boys<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carry us home to Maine”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In Eighteen Eighty Eric the Red departed the coast of Maine<\/p>\n\n\n\n

with three thousand tons of cargo to never return again<\/p>\n\n\n\n

she sailed down the Atlantic and turned her prow to the East<\/p>\n\n\n\n

to ride the Roaring Forties into the maw of the beast<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was Eighty Five days at sea before that dark and stormy night<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cape Otway to the left of her, King Island to the right<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They saw the Otway lighthouse and stared in disbelief<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the timber of her hull dragged and cracked along the reef<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Haul away from the reef boys, haul away at the chain,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

don’t let us come to grief boys, carry us home again<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hear the sound of crashing waves over the thunder and rain<\/p>\n\n\n\n

we’ll all be dead, or Eric the Red will carry us home to Maine, boys<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carry us home to Maine”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The lighthouse men heard nothing over the Southern Ocean’s roar<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and woke to find the wreck and cargo strewn along the shore<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A passing steamer found some floating sailors she could save<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the rest had slipped away at night into a watery grave<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eric the Red still lives inside the buildings on the Bay<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and the ghosts of those who died can be seen upon the spray<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and all along the Shipwreck Coast you’ll hear their last refrain<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Carry us home to Maine boys, carry us home to Maine”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

26th October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bury me beside the sea my love, and fare me well<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Leave your anchor here inside the stone, and ride the swell<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The winds should take you far and wide for you, and they are free<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And maybe one day bring you home to me, beside the sea<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

27th October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am not the ocean, yet I can be the tide<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am not the bird and bee yet in me they reside<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am not the mountain and I am not the stone<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am not the flesh and blood nor yet the breath and bone<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am in the impact of the wave upon the shore<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the subterranean synapse deep beneath the forest floor<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the space between the leaves as they shimmer in the breeze<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am not the sun and shade, I am the degrees<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can not be taken and I can not be left<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can never be endowed nor ever be bereft<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can not be conjured nor can I disappear<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am never, always, once, and now – I am here<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

27th October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

What you need is something no-one else can know<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What you’ll be is something no-one else can show<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Between praises and perditions<\/p>\n\n\n\n

its al down to the conditions<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If you find your patch of sunlight baby, grow<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

27th October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked to see the message, but the message wasn’t there<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was just an empty bottle that had nothing to declare<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d hoped to find a call for aid, a treasure map with ‘X’ displayed,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A call to join a lost crusade, or something wild and rare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but this shell-encrusted bottle just sat message-less and bare<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wonder what enflamed my expectations in this way?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

for myself, I know that I’d have nothing special to convey<\/p>\n\n\n\n

my message back would parallel, I wouldn’t have a thing to tell,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d seal the empty jug as well, and send it on it’s way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And my message then would be “I’m happy, drunk, nothing to say”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

30th October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Relentless and rapacious with an energy unbound<\/p>\n\n\n\n

a grain of sand dislodged with every wave that comes aground<\/p>\n\n\n\n

yet it can’t be called erosion, it is something more profound<\/p>\n\n\n\n

for what’s lost to the continent, is to the ocean, found<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

30th October<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Never much one for religion or ecclesiology<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and not tempted to subscribe to other’s ‘spirituality’<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am nonetheless enshrined in man’s innate morality<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and the yearning for the state that we call ‘peace’<\/p>\n\n\n\n

in the search of the sublime <\/p>\n\n\n\n

against the turning hands of time<\/p>\n\n\n\n

in the space between ‘conceive’ and ‘decease’<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the search itself denies us through a self-fulfilling notion<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For we are sharks, tethered to perpetual motion<\/p>\n\n\n\n

clutching shards of stillness and calling it devotion<\/p>\n\n\n\n

prescribing what it is, and how to ‘be’<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the eucalypts that grow<\/p>\n\n\n\n

on the Otways really know<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silent, still, simply staring at the sea<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Photos and Poems from the 100km walk along Shipwreck Coast of Victoria in October 2021 23rd October Tomorrow I start my forays to walk for a hundred odd ‘k’s the Great Ocean Walk with no-one to talk should take about 5 or 6 days It was a plan of a friend of my sister’s a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2557,"parent":12,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":{"0":"post-2546","1":"page","2":"type-page","3":"status-publish","4":"has-post-thumbnail","6":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2546"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2546"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2546\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2627,"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2546\/revisions\/2627"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/12"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2557"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hullyjoe.com\/andrew-hull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2546"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}