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This poem was presented to me by
Captain Ted Spurling Sr. of Little Cranberry Island, Maine, the navigator
who most inspires me and to whom this site is dedicated. He wrote, "This
nautical poem by Mr. E. Plumstead, an ardent defender of lunar observations, was
taken from a popular old English navigation book titled Wrinkles by
S.T.S. Lecky, master mariner, it being the 2oth edition...This book was given to
me nearly fifty years ago by a cousin, Captain Tom Kelley, of West Tremont, on
Mount Desert Island, Maine."
It is with great
sorrow that I report that Captain Ted Spurling Sr., to whom this
site is dedicated and without whom it would not have existed, died
in 2004. It is he who gave me the poem in defense of lunars, "Wrinkles." Captain Spurling was the
kindest and most interesting man on the Maine island I call
my second home, with many, many years of experience in celestial
navigation. I spent hours with him in his home and many more
sitting on the dock or by the museum, just talking. He will be
greatly, greatly missed.
There was a time when Parallax and
dear old Mrs. Moon
Were understood by seamen, and esteemed a precious boon.
Then
Wrinkles came; Edition Nine burst forth mid jubilation,
Waxed fat and kicked, and
then ensued the following conversation:
"Pack up!
Clear out!" said Wrinkles, "Take notice now, and mind,
Both Parallax
and you to Coventry we've consigned."
"Who's We?" retorted Mrs.
Moon, "I've never heard such fudge;
Are you the We? Have I no friends? Are
you the only judge?"
"You've hit
it off," said Wrinkles, "I am the We, far famed:
You've lost your
ancient following, of your conduct they're ashamed,
Except a few 'Old Timers,' who
from sundry dark recesses
Sing your praises in the papers, have no names, give no
addresses."
"That's
rather neat," replied the Moon, "But will you have the kindness
Just
to state the cause of this revolt, and why this modern blindness
To the virtues
that I still possess? Explain the situation.
What has blighted all my virtues?
Who has spoiled my reputation?"
"Where have
you been? What have you learned?" said Wrinkles, "Don't you know
What
happened here - it must be near a century ago?
You've heard of Sextant, Compass,
Log, Mercurial Barometer;
Tremble! a goddess has been born. We've christened her
Chronometer.
"Behold my
love, is she not fair? so strong, so plump, so pliable."
"All Tommy Rot,"
replied the Moon, "I'll bet she's not reliable."
"Alas!"
said Wrinkles, "I know that; for has it not been noted,
To her most
eccentric conduct my best chapter's been devoted?
"Had you but
read what I have said on her merits and demerits
In Chapter Four, not for one
hour would you maintain your spirits;
Could I but show you Wrinkles your
appearance would cease,
You'd for ever hide your 'bloomin' cheek,' for ever hold
your peace."
"Of Wrinkles,
sir," replied the Moon, "we've several copies here;
But the chapter
headed Lunars is the one we hold most dear.
With equal care we've read them
both; compared our notes and reckoned.
No mortal who believed the first could
understand the second.
"Tis just
about twelve months ago, I said to some inquirers,
'You had no power to banish
me, I still had some admirers.'
Adieu! dear boy. I'm off. Good night. To
Coventry? No! Never!
Let 'Wrinkles' come,
Chronometers go, but I go on for ever."
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