As morning breaks upon Seattle
Its visage and its rainment grey
The Clipper softly slips its moorings
Just before the break of day

No ferry this, the fabled skiff
No gaping maw for Subarus,
But padded seats and pointed prow
And tax-free liquor to abuse

With building foam and whipping winds
And Bainbridge Island on the lee
The crew begins to turn the screws
As we traverse the Salish Sea

The Clipper cuts through white-capped waves
And Bloody Marys flow inside
the vessel’s wards, secure and cheerful
Lounge ‘til ship and pier elide

As bags are grabbed and knots are lost
And papers stowed away unread
The ship approaches final berth
The clouds behind, the sun ahead

Victoria was the prize we sought,
We mariners of the narrow strait
But not forgotten was the Clipper—
A joy waves and clouds would not abate

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