Here in Beaufort-by-the-Sea, life is not all about seafood. Pictures and stories from the “first annual” Backstreet Pub “Meatloaf-Off” will be coming soon, along with tips from the winners on how to make great meatloaf.

The best meatloaves arrived on a mission,
Hoping some folks might fail by attrition,
For their fine chefs, you see,
Were all hoping to be
Named the “First” in the first competition.

The chances of finding a favorite Seattle friend living in Morehead City were so miniscule, we thought that Hell would freeze over first. We caught up with Kevin in December — he’d been living here for 3 years, and Flutterby’s been here for 2 years. On February 13th, when he came out to see the boat for the first time, Hell froze over, as evidenced by the photo below.

From Seattle, friend Kevin is witty,
But we’d got out of touch, what a pity.
But then Hell did freeze over,
For this fine Irish Rover,
Has been living in wee Morehead City.

Left: Meps and Kevin, Right: There was no snow when Kevin arrived at the boat. After dinner, here he is (on the far side) cleaning off his truck.

My two pirate friends, Goofy and Funny,
Have sailed off to the south, where it’s sunny.
They have left this fine village,
To seek plunder and pillage,
They’re not dumb — but they’re plumb outa money.

Maybe you can look at the photos below and tell me, which one is Goofy and which one is Funny? (that’s Dick on the top and Larry and me on the bottom)

Our friend Alex was feeling quite blue,
For a flock of demonic birds flew,
Over each perfect mast,
And he watched them, aghast,
As the paint job was ruined by doo.

So he came out to paint them anew
And the finish was ruined by dew,
Now he frets at the weather,
And fears every feather,
And says, “Will I ever be through?”

Barry and I hired Alex Baker to give our carbon fiber masts a beautiful professional paint job. Unfortunately, Alex has been unable to control the outdoor conditions where he’s working! After the doo and dew, Alex was thwarted by heavy wind, rain, and cold. We all hope the third time’s the charm.

The photos below show the working conditions out in the “sand pit” before the masts were painted. Alex, Barry, Kenny, and Dick had walked out to look at our innovative mast-suspension system. A portion of Dick’s broken mast (right side, top photo) was used as a derrick to suspend both masts.

There once was a lady named Clam,
And she said, “To the public, I am
Such a nice quiet pet,
One who likes to just set.
Omigosh! I just laid an egg, Ma’am!”

If this makes no sense to you, go to the Adventures page and read “Cock-a-doodle Who?” You’ll find a photo of Clam there.

On receiving a call from Iceland in the midst of record-breaking heat:

It’s one hundred and five here, you know,
So your calling and saying “Hello,”
From the Land of the Ice,
Felt quite pleasant and nice,
Although next time, could you please send snow?

Our friend Leilani has been in the hospital so long, with such a cheerful attitude, she inspired the doctors on the staff to write her a haiku:

Germy Pacemaker
Last few days of ABX*
Feels okay today

*Their abbreviation for antibiotics

After seeing the attention lavished on her, I was inspired to write a limerick:

All the nurses and docs in the ward
Had ennui — they were terribly bored.
But then much to their joy,
Came Leilani McCoy,
Leaving all other patients ignored.

When we first walked in, I thought we’d mistaken her room number for the gift shop. There were that many cards, plants, flowers, and gifts!

Now there once was a pirate of yore,
Who I met as I strolled on the shore.
“You’re a rake, sir!” I cried,
I was held at his side,
And he tickled me ’til I was sore.

I don’t make this stuff up! At the Seafair Pirate Landing on Saturday, I met a good-looking pirate (at least he had no blood on his teeth) who was smooching passing wenches. When I queued up for my fair share, I was captured and tickled, as you can see from the following photos.

Two kittens have lived worry-free,
In our boat at the edge of the sea,
But they snoozed and they dozed,
With their four eyes all closed,
So they never knew Grandma was me.

We found a foster home for our rescue cat and kittens through PAWS, two days before we left for Seattle. The kittens took so long to open their eyes, though, I thought they never would! We finally saw their eyes on July 4th, two and a half weeks after they were born.

Charlie’s sleeping alone in his bed,
When a cat climbs up onto his head,
Charlie says, “That’s not neat,”
“Please move down to my feet,”
And so that’s where she gave birth, instead.

You can see pictures of Charlie, the cat, and the newborn kittens over at “A Buckeye with a cat on his head.”

We went sailing with our good friend, Dick,
Though his boat isn’t nimble or quick,
She is classy as heck,
Lovely lines, great big deck,
And a schooner! (Yep, more than one stick.)

What a perfect day! A shame we forgot the camera, though.

The story behind this limerick is explained in the essay, “Schooner or Later.”

He could navigate, stand watch, and steer,
And he learned to drink warm rum and beer,
He’s a proper sea cat,
Never seasick! But that
Wasn’t true on the highways, I hear.

Ernie the Cat returned to the boatyard yesterday, after a 2-month cruise to Florida. He did great on the boat, but not so well in the car.

I’m complaining: “This weather is dumb!
“It is March, and now springtime should come!”
When a knock and a shout,
Makes me stick my head out,
“Well, hooray! Here comes Dick! Where’s the rum?”

After a teaser week of spring, we are now freezing! Outdoor temperatures were in the 20’s (Fahrenheit) when Dick arrived today, giving us a welcome respite from work. We enjoyed a warm and toasty gab-fest with tea and bakery-fresh bread, followed by pizza and rum.

There once was a fellow named Ted,
Who had lost all the boats in his shed,
With the Sharpies all gone,
It was time to move on,
Now he’s living in Freedom, instead.

A little context for this one is in order. We were working away on deck last week when I noticed a couple wandering around the boatyard. Then I realized they weren’t ambling aimlessly, they were heading right for us.

That’s how we met Ted and Malla. After a fire destroyed his boat shed in Vermont, Ted bought a Freedom 33 and named her Ocean Gypsy (after one of my favorite songs by Renaissance). He’s been moored in Beaufort for the winter. When he came down the ICW, he noticed us on shore and made a mental note to check out our boat.

We hit it off with these great folks, and a few days later, they invited us aboard Ocean Gypsy for an evening of pizza and stories. I feel better about my boat project now. I don’t just have a boat in the middle of a refit. I have a ticket to the fun, freedom-loving crowd.

My broken toe limerick got some funny responses. One friend, who will remain nameless, said he once dropped his underwear, tried to kick them to the laundry hamper, hit the wall, and broke a toe. He had a hard time explaining why he was wearing steel-toed boots to his office job.

Here’s another funny response, in verse, from Elinor Narcross:

I was going to lunch
And was driving a bunch.
My foot went kerplunk
Caught myself on the trunk.
Got a break in my foot
Requiring a boot.
In the arm, bicep tear
All in all, worse for wear.

In November it occurred
Pre-holidays; my word!
Healing has taken place
And snow has covered space.
Been inside looking out
Sunshine now makes me shout.
If Spring does really arrive,
I’ll want to drive and drive and drive.

(given the line about the trunk, maybe she should switch to a hatchback?)

It was crowded, and parking was tight,
When we drove into Beaufort last night,
There were Santas and sleighs,
And a lighthouse with rays,
And the Gilligan crew was a sight.

But our friends from Quebec on the pier,
Say they’re lacking in holiday cheer.
“The parade is quite nice,
“But we’ve seen it now, thrice,
“And we’d like to be elsewhere, not here.”

When I wrote this, I thought it was cute, the fact that our friends from Giva will be out cruising this time next year. However, Val didn’t think the joke was funny, and he asked me to include his comments:

I don’t think it’s funny
Val

Hey, the deck is done, let’s celebrate!
So we went and ate plate after plate,
At the Golden Corral,
But it sapped my morale,
‘Cause this stomachache will not abate.

Friday seemed like a good time to try the G.C., which our boatyard friends are always talking about. We celebrated with Clark, of Undaunted, who had launched his boat that afternoon. But the acres of food were overwhelming. It reminded me of Two Scoops Moore, who sang: “I can’t stop goin’ back to the big buffet…probably have a heart attack, down at the big buffet.”

Such a smooth car to drive into town,
But I shriek when I blithely glance down.
“Oh my God, did I drive
“At one hundred and five?”
“That’s kilometres,” he says, with a frown.

We’re borrowing our friends’ Camry for a couple of weeks. I had a heart-stopping moment when I was driving down the highway and I looked down to check my speed, forgetting that it’s a Canadian car. Barry, who had already noticed the Canadian Tire money in the ashtray, had to remind me.

So Parker says he wants a boat,
A place in the sunshine, afloat.
But Roxana’s not sure,
Whether sailing’s for her,
And hers is the critical vote.

I was on the way to the shower when I met a couple from Atlanta who were looking at boats on their 25th wedding anniversary. We hit it off and ended up chatting for quite a while, despite the fact that I was really, really, really grubby. I tried to stay downwind of them as we talked. I was that grubby.

Instead of singing in the shower, I write limericks. These five lines popped into my head during the shower that followed.

I was thinking today, “Gee, we’re hosed,”
“It is Saturday, Bock’s shop is closed.”
When up came a roar,
From o’er near the store,
And out the ol’ Travelift nosed.

There were Randy and Kenny and Dale,
But the best part to tell of this tale,
Is how Nancy, Ms. Bock,
Had a tube of Life-Caulk,
That we found on the store shelf, for sale.

An advantage to having internet on the boat is that I can now pen limericks about events right when they happen. A disadvantage is that I can now pen these limericks about events that are critically exciting to us and distressingly boring to you, my gentle reader.

(Barry points out another disadvantage — that I can be wasting time writing these limericks instead of installing the hatch.)

There once was a fellow named Dan,
Who lived on a boat on jackstands.
“She leaks like a sieve,
But it’s no way to live,
I would much rather float, if I can.”

Our neighbor, Dan, has been launched twice and subsequently pulled out. Somehow, he keeps a cheerful attitude, despite the delays. His blog is at www.danzplan.com.

“Like a sieve” is my poetic license; his boat is really nice. But if it worked perfectly, we wouldn’t have met him in the boatyard!

There once was a fellow named Larry,
Who, when asked if he’s happy, says, “Very!”
After many a year,
His old high school dear,
Has accepted his offer to marry.

==
Larry is one of my favorite guys here at Bock Marine, and he’s just returned from his honeymoon. Congratulations to the new couple!

I am wishing this heat wave would end,
But my far-flung friends don’t comprehend.
Candy says, “Chile’s chilly!”
Nita says, “Fifties, really!”
So I’ll just attach heat and click SEND.

We had to flee the melting heat, so we ducked into an air-conditioned library. While there, two emails came in, one from South America and one from Seattle. Both were complaining about how cold it is, and despite glares from the librarians, we couldn’t stop laughing.

At a shop that is on Sixty-Six,
They once sold guitar strings and picks,
Now they entertain gaily,
The crowds that come daily,
To hear them and get some good “kicks!”

You can get your kicks, too, at the Sandhills Curiosity Shop on old Route 66 in Erick, Oklahoma. Or, if you can’t get there, take a look at some of the videos.

Says Bonnie, “My Iggie won’t bite.”
But I’m still afraid that he might–
She says he’s in heat.
(Will he nip my feet,
Because my red toenails excite?)

Iggie is a 4-1/2 foot long iguana. He’s currently in heat and attracted to women of any species.

I have known Dave for twenty-five years,
Though we’ve never shared whiskey or beers.
He’s a fine upright friend,
And this poem I send,
As I raise up my Coke and say, “Cheers!”

“I missed it!” I cried out, aghast.
The birthday of Craig has just passed.
Though he’s now six-zero,
The man is my hero,
‘Cause parties with him are a blast.

This one’s for Captain Craig, Scourge of Lake Union and Environs. The notorious Craig was celebrated in an earlier Mepsnbarry Adventure, That’s Me in the Monkey Mask.

I believe that a limerick is a delightful way to celebrate someone’s life, which is why I advocate writing birthday limericks. Last week, a dear friend passed away. He was a kind, gentle soul with a great sense of humor. I think he would have liked a memorial limerick, so I wrote him one:

I’m not one to spend much time in prayer,
But the rules of this life seem unfair.
So, does God grant forbearance?
If he does, please send Clarence
Back down — we need time to prepare!

It was only a few months ago that I wrote another limerick for Clarence, when he first went into the hospital.

Dedicated to a dedicated reader:

The good fellow Tara calls “Dad,”
Said, “Room service here is so bad,
“I asked for a steak,
“They gave me an ache!”
A good time by all was not had.

I always joke about the fact that there are only two people reading this website. This limerick is dedicated to one of them, and the postscript is here so the other one will get the joke!

Clarence is currently having a spot of bother at a hospital in Columbus, Ohio. I hope he gets well soon, so he can outrun the nurses. I bet I know who will be driving his getaway car…

Writing a birthday limerick is simple and doesn’t take a lot of time. In this age of conspicuous consumption, a simple birthday limerick is a great way to celebrate someone special without bringing more styrofoam, wrapping paper, and unwanted aftershave into the world.

I have chanced on a great birthday present,
Not expensive champagne, duck, or pheasant,
But a lim’rick — some humor
To dispel the old rumor,
That a birthday is not something pleasant.

In order to make the limerick special, it needs to be about the person, not a generic 30th- or 40th-birthday limerick. For me, that requires a little brainstorming session. I do this best when insomnia strikes in the middle of the night. If the person’s birthday is imminent and you don’t have insomnia, a couple of beers can lubricate the rhyming process.

The brainstorming simply involves thinking about the person and anything related to him or her that’s easy to rhyme. Is the person’s name easy to rhyme? I have both a sister and a sister-in-law named Julie, and I haven’t been able to do much with “Bernoulli” or “patchoulli.” So I’ll have to use other techniques, as you’ll see below. However, some names are easy, such as “Kate” or “Barry.”

There once was a lady named Kate,
Whose birthday was on this fine date,
She wanted a cake,
But her friends could not bake,
So her candles just sat on a plate.

Now, there once was a pirate named Barry,
Who is frozen and quite stationary,
He’s unable to fight,
What is looming in sight,
Turning forty for him is reeeeeeal scary.

If the person’s name is not easy to rhyme, think about his or her relationship to you — what rhymes with “sister,” or “son?” When I needed to write a birthday limerick for my father, I found no good rhymes for “Henry,” but dozens for “Dad”:

There’s a guy who I proudly call Dad,
And a mighty fine birthday he had.
To make such a great man, it
Takes years on this planet.
But I won’t tell his age (he’d get mad).

Another good theme to get the rhyming started is the person’s age. Ages ending is “seven” are bad to rhyme, because you’re limited to “heaven” and “eleven.” But you can talk about the fact that he or she is no longer thirty-six, which rhymes with plenty of words — flicks, picks, tricks, mix.

Here’s one I wrote for a reader with two young children who wanted help with the invitation to their combined birthday party. The nice thing about this one is that it’s flexible, and you can change it to suit different children. You could replace the names, change the month, even replace “cookout” with “party,” and it would still work:

Our Seth is about to turn two,
And Rachel’s soon four, it is true,
We’ve written this rhyme,
‘Cause October’s the time,
For a big birthday cookout with you!

You can be even more creative, branching out and thinking about the subject’s home town, home state, occupation, or hobbies.

Here’s one about my brother-in-law, Ed, an ultra-marathon runner. Every year, on his birthday, he runs the same number of miles as his age:

The number of miles he would run
Last year was a mere fifty-one.
But now, fifty-two?
That much harder to do —
Old age does not make it more fun.

Current events or something funny that happened to the person can also inspire a good limerick. I once had a friend who moved from the bug-free Pacific Northwest to New Orleans. That year, he gave me plenty of subject matter:

While taking a drink in the shade,
Dear Brian enjoys Gatorade.
But taking a swig,
Found a live roach THIS BIG,
Now he’s mixing his cocktails with Raid.

Once I come up with an inspiring word or phrase for the person, I usually start going through the alphabet, looking for words that rhyme with it. There are also lots of good rhyming dictionaries on the internet, where you can type in a word, and all the rhymes come back. I use Rhymezone, which organizes the choices by syllables. If I’m having trouble coming up with good rhymes, I can also check Rhymezone for synonyms. That often breaks through the rhymer’s block.

There are a couple of tricks you can do to come up with even more rhymes for a given word. One is to contract the word:

On a trip south through old Oklahom’

And another is to add an extra syllable at the end of a word:

Two gals who were feeling quite plucky,
Drove north in their little red truckie

For your limerick, you’ll need at least two sets of rhymes — one with three words and one with two words. If you have more than that, you may be inspired to write several stanzas.

Now you’re ready to construct the birthday limerick. If you’ve written limericks before, or if you feel comfortable mimicking the ones you’ve read, go for it — but when you’re done, there is one crucial step you should not skip.

Write or print your limerick and hand it to someone else to read out loud. That will immediately identify any problems with the rhyme and meter. This is an important step for a birthday limerick, because birthday limericks are always read out loud, either at large parties or just repeated many, many times.

If you’re new to this limerick business, or you want to hone your skills further, keep reading for some tips on structure and meter.

The structure of a limerick is five lines, A-A-B-B-A. That means that the first two lines rhyme with each other and with the fifth line. The third and fourth lines rhyme with each other:

A - Now my big sister Daisy’s a dear,
A - And I wrote of her birthday last year.
B - But another year’s passed,
B - And it happened so fast,
A - That she’s now one year older, I fear.

One of the biggest challenges to limerick-writers, new and experienced, is getting the meter right. A proper limerick has anapest meter, which means lines one, two, and five are stressed like this:

da-da-DUM da-da-DUM da-da-DUM

And lines three and four are shorter, but still have the same kind of meter:

da-da-DUM da-da-DUM

You can modify this a little, starting a line with da-DUM and ending it with da-da-DUM-da. But don’t make changes other than that, or it won’t flow properly, as this example attests:

No, it’s really not that hard to rhyme,
And it just takes a whole lot of time.
But the meter’s the thing
To make every piece sing,
And limerick-writers like me consider lousy meter a terrible crime.

The trick to making a good limerick great is to make it funny. Humor is the hallmark of a great birthday limerick, and you have a chance to gently poke fun at the birthday person. It’s always nice to throw in a little surprise in the last line, as I did in this 40th birthday limerick:

So by 40, your hair’s turning gray,
And gravity holds you in sway.
You must stand on your head
When you get out of bed,
Just to keep nasty wrinkles at bay.

But the truth is, you’re not really old!
You are vibrant and youthful and bold.
You can still climb a tree,
You’re vivacious and free —
Now just eat these stewed prunes, as you’re told.

Margret “Meps” Schulte has always had a soft spot for silly rhymes, her favorite poetry book being the Norton Anthology of Light Verse. In 2002, she was inspired to publish her first limerick on the Web when she noticed that her friend Brian’s name sort-of-rhymed with the name of his new boat, Cayenne. Since then, she has written well over 100 limericks about her travels, current events, friends, and anything else that strikes her fancy. Meps has also submitted about two dozen limericks to the Omnificent English Dictionary In Limerick Form, or OEDILF, giving her the dubious title of “Contributing Editor.”

If this article made you smile, you may also enjoy reading some of the Adventures of Meps ‘n’ Barry.

We dressed head to toe in all green
And joined in the partying scene.
But I cannot abuse
That much Irish booze;
It just sends me to the latrine.

(A description of the surprise party for Charles’ 60th birthday.)

Her shape is quite beamy, not narrow
Her mast is as straight as an arrow
With her Cap’n, named Jac
We are glad to be back
Aboard Nereid, now known as Sparrow!

We were glad to meet Jac, face to face
So we signed on as crew for a race
But the gods were unjust
“Around Shaw” was a bust
Of the wind, there was nary a trace

***
Of the 68 boats that started the Around Shaw race, we were among the 63 that did not finish. Still, a bad day racing beats a good day working, any time!

Our roof was all nasty and brown
And bringing the house value down
But good old Marmot
Fixed up what we’ve got
And gave us the best roof in town

Check out the entry under “Adventures,” with photos of the process!

Nineteen eighty-six, early September
A date that I’ll always remember
A small cat with loud voice
Did not give me a choice
Announced she, “I’m your new family member!”

A guy with a nice antique stove
Put it in his truck and then drove
Down to ol’ Greenlake
So that we could partake
Of cider and carols, by jove!

Way up here in Seattle we thought
We would cook Dave’s red beans in a pot
All the chickens are glad
And the cows are not mad
Now we hope our friends come eat a lot!

Read all about Dave’s New Orleans Red Beans tradition.

There once was a fellow in red
“Do you have a computer?” we said
“Let me look in my sack –
Here’s a cute Power Mac
To replace the SE that went dead!”

(With much gratitude to Bill Brown for Meps’ little writing computer. )