Sorry to tell ya, Mick, but

One more poem,

I go home.

Yeah, that was awful. Whack me with a flipper.

That said, I surely share your love of being by the sea. Loved it when I was at the naval station at Brunswick, Maine. Loved it when I was at the naval station at Keflavik, Iceland. Now I live on America’s third coast (after the Atlantic and Pacific): that of the Great Lakes. We call them our inland sea.

But while they’re big and occasionally stormy, they come up short: they’re unsalted. Their breezes don’t have the mind-clearing, perspective-restoring effects I used to get from winds off the Atlantic. I envy you, being able to breathe in the Tasman Sea and the Great Australian Bight.