COMING ATTRACTIONS: Gitchigume Pilgrimage

The Vinman is back!!! Just in time for a new adventure that I am achin’ to embark upon and share with you wonderful folks who do me the honor of stopping by. But alas, my post on exactly what is comming has to be delayed until tomorrow morning since we have lost our DSL connection. It’s done, but the pictures that go along with it cannot be uploaded via dial-up… least not in time for me to get any sleep tonight.

Meantime, please read Gordon Lightfoot’s hit song from the 70’s recalling the eerie music that stays in your head to this day……..

I promise, this is not tease……’re in for a real treat if you join me on my upcomming adventure (that is if I can portage to a landline and post in real time…………


The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they called Gitchigumi

The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead

When the skies of November turn gloomy

With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more

Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.

That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed

When the “Gales of November” came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side

Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin

As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most

With a crew and good captain well seasoned

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms

When they left fully loaded for Cleveland

And later that night when the ship’s bell rang

Could it be the north wind they’d been feeling?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound

And a wave tumbled over the railing

And every man knew, as the captain did too,

T’was the witch of November come stealing.

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait

When the gales of November came slashing

When afternoon came it was freezing rain

In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck saying

“Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya.”

At seven PM the main hatchway caved in, he said

“Fellas, it’s been good to know ya”

The captain wired in he had water coming in

And the good ship and crew was in peril.

And later that night when his lights went out of sight

Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes

When the waves turn the minutes to hours?

The searchers all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay

If they’d put fifteen more miles behind her.

They might have split up or they might have capsized;

They may have broke deep and took water.

All that remains are the faces and the names

Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings

In the rooms of her icewater mansion.

Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams;

The isles and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario

Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,

And the iron boats go as the mariners all know

With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,

In the “Maritime Sailors’ Cathedral.”

The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times

For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call Gitchigumi

Superior, they say, never gives up her dead

When the gales of November come early.

Copyright Gordon Lightfoot and Warner Brothers, Inc.

Come back soon…..the adventure of Gitchigumi is just beginning!!!!!

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