Groggily I get up at quarter to four,

Splashing cold water on my eyes galore.

Rush quickly to bridge I go,

For keeping watch to eight from four.

Wheelhouse is eerily dark and quiet,

Small lamps winking red light.

Slowly mingling into the darkness around

Allowed my sleeping bones to be awakened and bold.

Hearing the winds gushing and

howling at bridge wing,

Realise the agony that the Siberian winds in winter bring.

Even though wrapped in heavy woolen

Biting winds make my poor nose redden.

Ensure my eyes remain alert and wide

To keep lookout with all senses of mine.

Early must I spot the approaching ships’ light,

And quickly report to the officer of the night.

Then, I must find the compass error,

By taking azimuth of stars up yonder.

Then I need to search the stars for sight,

Before they start to fade away in twilight.

How I love to hear the ship hums in the night,

Piching ‘n’ rolling but moving like a sprite!

Watch the dark night retreat in a fright,

Pitch dark ‘fore but now turns so bright.

After the star sight is plotted and done,

Work for bridge cleaning then begun.

Bit by bit the sun glows brighter

Day-workers now waking up from slumber.

Oft I heard that for a seasoned sailor,

Sunrise is but a boring mundane matter.

Tho’ find watching rising sun so refreshing,

Believe me, my morning watch is really very pleasing!