Saturday 1st June, first day of winter, return of the Impaler horde to Bondi for a 7am start led by the Blackdog whose on a mission to do 30 laps.
Surfmuppet, in the hallowed company of the “Inglorious Lasties” (named so by the five founding members – Fearless Fi, South African Roz, Virgin Greg, Big John and the muppet – while bobbing in the swell just off Ice Bergs), crawls up the sand after 14 laps over 4 hours, 40 minutes. Longest time in the water, distance, etc for him.
What passes through the head of the muppet slogging up and down the lonely lanes in the pool or along the coast off some Sydney beach?
To while away the time, he composes bits of doggerel and clumps of seaweed like verse, while keeping away thoughts of beasties lurking in the gloom waiting for a good chomp. The head villain is now 38 years in the limelight, so it’s befitting this little ditty should be in his honour.
Jaws is old now and well past his prime.
Once the most feared beast of all time
Farmers and mountain men who never saw the sea
in their beasty nightmares would climb any tree
to get away from this fangy great white
Who terrified all in the darkness of night
Garbos would see him lurking in their bins
Nuns and priests in their myriad of sins
Swimming pools and clubs all over the globe
Lost so many punters they soon had to close
He could climb up the drainpipe and appear in the bath
have you for starters and for dessert eat the cat
and after he polished off the poor cats last whisker
would wait in the cupboard to pounce on her sister.
Jaws was the greatest villain of all
no waterway, river, ocean or mall
was safe from his gaze and his sleek silent ways
Hollywood got rich on his homicidal craze
that went deeper and wider than any could predict
deep wounds in the psyche did the bould Jaws inflict
till a generation was maimed by the fear of this beast
and painted all sharks with a blood lust for feast
-ing on humans, ripping them to shreds
in two inches of water, so they all stayed in their beds
and left the wide ocean,the lake and the river
no more to go swimming, just stay home and shiver
in front of the TV and eat fish and chips
best place for a shark, battered up on the lips.
Moviestar Jaws thus ended his days
addicted to coke in the usual way
a bottle of whiskey before day’s first light
peeked over the hilltops and put night to flight.
He married a Stingray who took all his loot
and gave him a dose of syphilis to boot.
She left him for Flipper and moved down the road
and everytime they drove past, poor Jaws they’d goad.
Flipper had turned nasty with the passing of years
while Jaws kinda mellowed and when drunk came tears.
He’d been a bad shark and more is the pity
gave up the ocean and moved into the city
where he worked with the Salvoes rescuing drunks
hookers and trannies, druggies and punks.
They’ll not make him a saint when his last day has past
the pope won’t be thinking to canonise him fast.
So when you’re out on the deep and swimming your laps
and you churn up the water with your freestyle arm slaps
and kick your wee feet leaving foam, froth and bubble
which pre ’75 would certainly mean trouble.
But the tale of old Jaws has spread far and wide
down in the deep where the big sharks abide
they’ve all seen the movie and then heard the story
of their once proud ancestor, Big Jaws, dipped in glory.
How the fame of his ambushes, feasting and fun
in the end of his days it brought him undone.
Now when there’s a pod of humans above
thumping and splashing their way across a cove
they politely desist and say to each other
fuck mate, we’re outta here, they’re not worth the bother.
SM is absolutely knackered at the end of the swim and ends up doing the usual Saturday post swim recovery session with TimTams and Ice Cream on the sofa in front of the telly.
Made a donation to a guy he knows swimming across Galway Bay at the end of July in aid of Cancer Care.
All you shark dodgers out there feel free to do the same at: