Written by one of our British Shipmates who goes by the name of Pedro; that's a story in itself.
Ode to the Bubblehead Bikers
You go out west and see the best that’s what Horace Greeley said.
A bunch of bubbleheads took his advise and on their way they sped
O’er dusty plains and mountain range they pushed their trusty steeds
Taking in wondrous sights as they moved along at law abiding speed
From familiar flatland majesty to the peaks where the eagle soars
To the north west of the continent where the Pacific Ocean roars
Upon the way they visited with shipmates that they had not seen
Since the days they served in boats when all were just umpteen.
From Rockies peaks down to Yellowstone and onto Cody town
They dropped in on Buffalo Bill, the Irma, and his museum crown
Then headed east to Montana to see the spot where Yellowhair fell
To tread the place where Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse made it hell
They’re headed for the Black Hills where Bill Hickock once was king
In Deadwood Gulch at the Saloon Ten where Wild Bill did his thing
South in Dakota to see an old friend Corabelle and all respects cement
To Dakota Slim, a brother and a buddy, with the bagpipes wild lament
God speed them home this band of brothers keep them in your keeping
Until they see the lights of home, spare their loved ones any weeping
They have done their thing, passed the test, so sign their qual card chit
They're just a bunch of great submariner's who don’t know when to quit
Pedro
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Our resident "jarhead" is now sulking in the corner because he's relegated to the "back of the boat". Suck it up Jim and consider that AmTrac of your was almost a submarine
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