The Club Historian Delivers at the Annual Meeting

Jere Dennison

 

Once upon a midnight dreary, your Historian pondered weak and weary about his duty to present an account of the year’s activities at the 2003 Annual Meeting.  Alas, our activities have expanded to the degree that it would take a prodigious oration certain to render the audience comatose.  Those who need a full chronicle of the past year are invited to consult back issues of the Log and to surf the FBYC website for all the gritty details that have been diligently recorded for posterity.  Instead your Historian (and now self-proclaimed Poet Laureate) took a stab at literary immortality with a classical lyrical dissertation that is humbly recorded here for the edification of those fortunate souls who were not subjected to his oral recitation in October.

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Our 2003 Season in Fifteen Clever Verses

 

When the long cold winter

            Wouldn’t let up

The Cruising Class went

            To the America’s Cup

 

And some offshore racers

            Thought it best

To trailer their boats

            To balmy Key West

 

The rest of us suffered

            With snow ‘round our thighs

And resorted to boozing

            At the Bermuda High

 

After clean-up in March

            The sun shown bright

Only briefly to allow us

            Our Opening Day rite

 

The Spring Series plagued

            By rain, and more rain

Our non-sailing friends

            Thought us truly insane

 

Whenever Mr. Roberts

            Went to her station

We seemed to be greeted

            By more precipitation

 

But our programs went on

            And the Juniors had fun

Learning the ropes

            Without any sun

 

The Leukemia Cup succeeded

            In a very big way

And the celebration was held

            Up on Stingray

 

After all had left

            Including the band

The dollars were tallied

            At 125 grand

 

August was full

            Of regattas and cruises

Even one for Kids

            Or whatever one chooses 

 

 

September arrived

            With the Laser Masters

But the biggest event

            Was a natural disaster

 

An unwelcome guest,

            Her name Isabel,

Destroyed our piers

            And put us through hell

 

After debris was removed

            And the power back on

Most of September

            Had come and gone

 

Fears of the racers

            Were soon alleviated

When Fall Series schedules

            Were only abbreviated

 

A difficult year,           

            We hail Commodore Cole

Who superbly filled

            His leadership role