Worst Beach Day by Steve Trembley

Everything started out pretty well. We had some time to spare.
I sat next to Selena. We always share a chair.
The wind came through the bus windows, along with morning smells,
Of diesel fumes, and sewer gas, and burning trash as well.

It is a bumpy 2 hour ride, the Road to Samana,
But it would be well worth it. The beach inspires awe.
There was a urinary emergency, a pit stop overdue.
This should have been a warning, but hilarity ensued.

We boarded a boat to the island, that didn’t look too safe.
The water was quite choppy, and rain fell on my face.
The beach was almost deserted, but later people came.
The sun appeared from time to time, but then down came the rain.

We huddled neath the shelters, while sand and breezes blew.
Very few went swimming. There wasn’t much to do.
The food itself was tolerable, if you like beans and rice,
And chicken and mystery seafood. I think I went back twice.

We left the island hurriedly, the waves weren’t quite as rough.
But no one wanted to stay there. Somehow we’d had enough.
When we docked to leave the boat, I sensed impending disaster.
The boat was rocking to and fro, and up and down much faster.

I climbed down from the upper deck. The boat began to pitch.
I grabbed at nothing in the air and fell just like a brick.
My backpack hit the water first. I followed close behind
And sank beneath the surface. Some thoughts raced through my mind.

What new dumb thing had I done? Would this be how I’d go?
How could I be so stupid? Have I hit a new low?

Someone cried “Man overboard!”, or something in Dominican.
There were not any ladders, or place to put my hands in.
Between the dock and rocking boat, I treaded frantically,
But nothing seemed to be working. I prayed “Please rescue me!”

So Garrett came to my rescue, and possibly saved my rear.
At least he saved my billfold, and more it would appear.
Someone threw a life rope, and dragged me up the side.
I almost lost my swimsuit, and therefore all my pride.

I sat there momentarily, unsure of what transpired.
I didn’t know that backpacks float, but hearing aids expire.
It wasn’t very pretty, I’m sure if you had seen it.
But it was pretty exciting, and I really, really mean it.

In the bigger picture, this wasn’t a big deal.
But at the time I wondered, if I’d had my last meal.
Melissa gave me comfort, on the way back home.
And I began to realize, that this could be a poem.

So if you think you don’t have friends, and you are sure you float,
Just throw your hands into the air, and fall off of a boat.
If someone comes to help you, grab hold his open hand.
You need to accept help at times, and God loves every man.

Everything’s dried out now, and I’m no worse for wear.
There is no lasting damage, but memories are there.
And bad days at the beach are rare, so here’s some food for thought:
No matter how bad the beach is; going to work it’s not.

And also remember these valuable tips:
As there’s many a slip twixt the cup and the lips,
There’s many a slip twixt the dock and the ship.