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A poem on the Carnival cruise ship Triumph

Feb. 23, 2013 at 3:01 p.m.
Updated Feb. 22, 2013 at 8:23 p.m.


Editor, the Advocate:

The following is a poem to the tune of the "Gilligan's Island" theme song.

The Voyage of the Triumph

Just sit right down and you'll hear a tale,

a tale of an awful trip,

that started from a Texas Port

aboard a big cruise ship.

The boat was a white and shiny craft.

The air was clean and pure.

Who knew that in a week or so

the place would be a sewer?

My cousins and their lovely wives

were there to take a rest.

The drinks were cold, the service was great,

the food the very best.

Then somewhere on the Spanish Main

the engine room caught fire.

The lights went out; they groped about.

The temperature went higher.

It's hot, no ice, no way to cook.

Trouble came in a rush.

To make things worse, the pumps went dead;

the toilets wouldn't flush!

The people on the bottom deck

came floating to the top.

With mattresses and tents on deck,

they settled with a flop.

They sat dead in the water,

while the headlines told the world.

The crew had solved the problems,

and the food had been preserved.

But the fridge was frizzled,

and the generators fried;

the stench from down below was bad -

it smelled like something died!

Someone had a bright idea

to use a garbage bag

to stuff inside a bucket

when the cramps just got too bad.

But no one knew just what to do

when the bags all got too full.

Just put them on the "Poop Deck"

was the captain's final rule.

Finally, the tugs came

and pulled the ship to port.

But everyone was hungry,

and their tempers all were short.

You'll get another journey,

and there's money in your hand.

Get on the bus; you're headed west.

Back to the Promised Land!

Our sympathies are with you all.

We're glad that you're all okay.

Be looking forward to your next trip -

yeah, that will be the day!

J.W. Caldwell IV, DVM, Dadeville, Alabama

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