The Isle of Nevercombak

There’s an island out in a distant sea

Way off from the beaten track,

It’s a tiny island, seven by three

And it’s known as Nevercombak,

Most of the island is woods and trees

With a river that flows from the hill,

It trickles down in a steady stream

To end in a rippling rill.

 

There’s just one beach on the western side

And that is littered with ships,

They struck the reef at the lowest tide

While sailing into the mist,

The island’s not on a map or chart,

It can’t be seen from the air,

And sailors speak of the hidden cliffs,

And mutter, ‘Never go there!’

 

The crews that managed to swim ashore

Were left on the beach alone,

And pterodactyls had picked them off,

All that is left are bones,

These ancient birds lived high in the trees

And swooped when you turned your back,

They say that nothing survives that moves

On the Isle of Nevercombak.

 

Our trawler pitched in the heavy seas

As we made our way through the mist,

We shouldn’t have strayed so far to the east

But the captain would insist,

The tide was high and the moon was nigh

But we couldn’t see clear ahead,

And suddenly we were high and dry

And lucky that we weren’t dead!

 

We’d landed up on an island beach

And the cliffs loomed into the sky,

The others walked on the beach that night

But I stayed where it was dry,

They’d only travelled a hundred yards

When I heard the flapping of wings,

A squawk, and then a terrible cry

That froze the blood in my veins.

 

A bird had carried the captain off

Its claws dug deep in his back,

I heard him scream, and the others cried:

‘God help our Captain Jack!’

Their screams attracted some other birds

And they took each man apart,

I hid in the trawler wheelhouse,

Cowered in fear, and faint of heart.

 

It rained as if it would never stop

And it spread their blood on the beach,

I thought that I should bury the bones

But the bodies were out of reach,

The tide came in and a sudden surge

Was spinning the trawler round,

I felt it floating beneath my feet

And I prayed for that diesel sound!

 

I prayed for that diesel sound, I said

As I pushed the button to start,

The Perkins sprang into instant life

I was making way to depart,

The trawler sluggishly headed out

Past wrecks and reefs and swell,

I wouldn’t have sweated so much out there

If the skies and the heavens fell.

 

The birds came out of the driving rain

Attacking the wheelhouse roof,

I heard a splintering sound that came

As they tore, one stood aloof,

He sat and stared through the window pane

With a cold and evil eye,

While I stared back, a million years

Had evolved, and passed him by.

 

They finally left me alone at sea

So scared, so tired and cold,

I knew that I could survive out there

With a ton of fish in the hold,

I looked behind at the deepening mist

That shrouded the Isle in black,

And swore an oath as I clenched my fist,

‘I’ll never, Nevercombak!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[patricia]

I dont know how you do it but you do. It has rythm, humour, and yet still spins a scarey yarn, discloses a wisdom of knowledge and years and has me picturing this being read aloud by you in front of an audience. A following you surely deserve it is easy to forget when I read you fantastic stuff how much art and thinking has gone into their composition. (unless you do automatic writing or something) Great work great stuff as always David from you nothing less than perfection.

[Amber Elaine Marshall]

I love your imagination! You have a gift of capturing the scene, the ambiance, the ability to write descriptively. I like the poetry but have you ever considered writing a novel? You strike me as an author that could write an adventurous tale such as Jules Verne's The Mysterious Island. Just a thought, I think you would do well with that sort of writing. All in all great write I enjoyed it thank you for sharing.

[Valentine]

Rightly so..I wouldn't ever go back to a place like that either..this was a fabulous tale..I really enjoyed it..Katihe

[Barbara Walker]

Great piece of work!

[TPK Stories]

Great story.

[Mary]

Such a story, and so well done! I swear it would make a great sea chanty!

[Mockingbird]

a great tale. you are a wizard at narrative poetry. you should really publish your collection of works if you haven't already. excellent job.

[Holly Mason]

love this
keeps interest through out
couldn't wait to read more
love the title
thank you for sharing

[Silhouette]

I like the adventure of this piece and how the words flow. Never a dull moment, very nice job :)

[Krista Gallant]

Loved your piece David! These following lines began the sense of despair:

The tide was high and the moon was nigh
But we couldn’t see clear ahead,
And suddenly we were high and dry
And lucky that we weren’t dead!

But it was this that was haunting, a start to a melancholy tone to your poem:

They’d only travelled a hundred yards
When I heard the flapping of wings,
A squawk, and then a terrible cry
That froze the blood in my veins.

Perhaps we should enjoy to the full the pleasures of each moment because there are no guarantees that everything everywhere is safe.
I tip my hat to you! Great work!

[Leslie Philibert]

I know this poet from other sites, he is a writer of quality, narrative poetry well
written to a very high standards, great work.