Bring me that horizon!

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

May be it is in my heritage but just like English poet John Masefield I find myself constantly called back to the sea. Well, to the St. Croix River, anyway, and it's not a tall ship but a pontoon boat. Nevertheless, I ride easily over the waves, my eyes fixed unwaveringly on the horizon. It's hard to explain the attraction, but Masefield, author of "Sea Fever", understands.