but it was only the old man sitting there on the dock his weathered smile and dancing eyes when he spoke it was a rough sound like cadence of seafarers raising sail in the long rays of summer eve setting sun off the ancient shores celebrated in song he spun me a tale of uncharted lands and beautiful maidens in tropical forests wild nights in some forgotten port *** and the dancehall glow in memory they are the stories shared on the long voyage they are the smile in this old mans memories the scent of salt and the rhythm of the waves breaking on the shore surround as he weaves his story with the years flowin like the waves neath the prow tacking east to a rising sun it seems like a living breathing dream as alive as the sea herself as alive as the sparkling beauty in the memories of an old man weaving his tale by the seaside