Portrait of a Chief Engineer

This poem is dedicated to the memory of Peter Irving

Listen to: Portrait of a Chief Engineer

He resembled an orchestra's conductor,
Our beloved, double-headed* chief engineer.
A grafter, trained in shipyards; decent and fair,
He was the heart of all that we held dear.

When the engine room roared with raucous sound,
And his machinery beat its loud tattoo,
It held a rhythmic melody he loved,
The harmony, and rhythm of the screw.

He was Cammell Laird’s man, both born and bred,
A quiet one, that none dared muck about;
The Chief's dismay would linger on a man,
Like the morning after a night on the stout.

Down in the pit beside our beating heart,
He'd stand as a maestro would practice his score,
Amid the woodwind section, strings and brass,
Damning the fuel pump that played out of tune.

He’d prowl among the engines day and night,
And tap and flick at a fluttering gauge,
To harmonise the sections to play as one,
Like the maestro, the master of the stage.

In fan-blasted heat and fuel-tainted air,
He played loud the music he loved to play,
The clamouring, deafening and drumbeat din,
Of a Houlder Brothers cargo ship making way.

Ours is a hard, lonely way of life,
A constant cycle of leaving and return,
His wife and children missed and needed him,
And he missed the pleasures of home in turn.

For years he’d tramped and traipsed around the globe,
Playing the music he’d played all his life,
But the call of home is a siren's call,
And aye, in time, a man heeds his wife.

(*) The expression ‘double-headed’ refers to a senior officer
and highly experienced engineer who is qualified
in both steam and motor vessels.

Comments

Inquisitive Eastender said…
You reading this took it to another level! Really enjoyed it.
Would tentatively suggest you replace 'muck about' with something else though - that phrase seems as elegant as the rest of the verse
30 August 2024 at 12:31
Simon Beechinor said…
Thanks for your comment Inquisitive Eastender! - I'm delighted you enjoyed the narration, thank you. I thought long and hard about that word 'muck'. There are 'hiccups' which I've intentionally not developed as, unlike the symphony which I've used as an extended metaphor throughout, the cacophany in the engine room is discordant and far from perfect. So there are hiccups to reflect the effects of the engine room. Similarly I wanted the narrator's language used to reflect that which would be used by a seaman without being vulgar. Hence 'muck' instead of something else. You'll also see that the fourth line in the fourth stanza doesn't rhyme with second line as it does in all the other stanzas - I've made that so to reflect the pump that's playing 'out of tune'. I've also largely written in iambic pentameter but not entirely - once again, that is intentional to disrupt the rhythm and so avoid monotony. So I would argue these are poetic devices which I'd like to keep. I am new to such devices though and learning I know I've a long way to go!
30 August 2024 at 12:58
Angela said…
I was immersed in the heart of the ship with the engineer listening to the beat and rhythm of all moving parts; then reminded just how far away he and the ship is, from home and family - the overwhelming draw, despite the love of the ship and its engines, being to his wife, his first love.
30 August 2024 at 20:02
Simon Beechinor said…
Many thanks for reading my poem Angela, I hope you enjoyed it. In case you missed it, I've included a sound file with most of my poems so people can hear a narration with the poem... some say it's helpful!
31 August 2024 at 07:54
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