Being a sailor teaches you to be aware of the tide.
When navigating, you plan your course to make the most of favourable currents, or to avoid adverse currents that will slow you down, push you off course, or create steep waves when they run counter to the wind. Off the NSW coast, the East Australian Current runs north to south, so when we're sailing south, we head offshore to join it, adding a couple of knots to our hull speed. On trips up north, we stay closer inshore to avoid it. Humpback whales do the same on their annual migration.
Up in Queensland, there are strong tidal movements between the mainland and the Great Barrier Reef, and we time our day sails to take advantage of a favourable tide, or sail at slack water (when the tide is turning and at its weakest) if the tide is adverse.
Usually a boat on a mooring or anchor will point into the wind, keeping the motion consistent and soothing, but when the wind and tide are flowing in different directions, the boat will roll, which can become quite maddening (esp when it wakes up the baby!). You'll see boats in a bay all turned in a muddle of different directions as the tide weaves its way around the shore.
As we came back to the mainland from 3 weeks in the Whitsunday and Lindeman Islands, the three things I was most looking forward to were doing laundry, fresh veges and catching up with the world via email, Radio National, and our blog, of course! This is the first program I heard when I flicked on the radio after dropping anchor at Airlie Beach on a Sunday afternoon.
I have to admit, I'm a bit of a philistine and tend not to tune in when Poetica is on the radio, but the theme was so perfect, and the first couple of poems lured me in, especially the voice of Ben Whishaw reading the first Pablo Neruda poem. I'm not very familiar with Poetica, but this episode is a little different to the programs I've heard before, and seems to borrow a little from the Night Air aesthetic (a show I still miss terribly), mixing poetry with soundscape, music and factual recordings about the tide from scientists, ecologists, and those directly affected by rising sea levels.
I've had to have a few goes at listening to it in full, partly because of the competing sounds of a chattering baby, but mostly because my poor old pop culture brain finds it a bit of a stretch to listen to one poem after another and concentrate on each one. I would have liked to hear more atmospheric sounds, music and factual elements woven in there, but I guess then it wouldn't be Poetica. Oscar Metcalfe reading his poetic narrative Watch the Dawn Tide would have been right at home in the mix too.
Poetica can't be as clever and playful with form and structure as a program like The Night Air was, but I enjoyed being introduced to poems (or reminded of familiar ones), all tied together by a beautiful theme.
Image by Max Homand/Getty, republished from the Radio National website.










