The Deep Sea Scouts aims to make available resources to support our aim of brining the sea to Scouting. We would welcome feed back on any material you make use of.
In ocean wastes no poppies blow,
No crosses stand in ordered row,
There young hearts sleep… beneath the wave…
The spirited, the good, the brave,
But stars a constant vigil keep,
For them who lie beneath the deep.
‘Tis true you cannot kneel in prayer
On certain spot and think. “He’s there.”
But you can to the ocean go…
See whitecaps marching row on row;
Know one for him will always ride…
In and out… with every tide.
And when your span of life is passed,
He’ll meet you at the “Captain’s Mast.”
And they who mourn on distant shore
For sailors who’ll come home no more,
Can dry their tears and pray for these
Who rest beneath the heaving seas…
For stars that shine and winds that blow
And whitecaps marching row on row.
And they can never lonely be
For when they lived… they chose the sea.
by Eileen Mahoney
Poppies grow in Flanders Fields
Over the heads of the brave,
But Poppies don’t cover a sailor’s grave,
Flowers won’t grow on a wave.
On land there is usually a marker,
A cross, a stone or a tree.
How do you mark the resting place
of the ones that are buried at sea?
They are no less the fallen
Than the others that are interred on the land.
Though their graves are unadorned
The seamen will understand.
They chose to sail the oceans,
They knew where the danger lies.
And if tragedy ever happens,
The sea claims the sailor who dies.
Paddlesports and yachting training aids