Clarence Craddick was the Harbour Master,
Of a smallish port known as Doncaster.
He would sit in his office at the end of the pier,
Keeping an eye on all boats until they got near.
Then he would hail them, “Ship Ahoy,”
The boat thus hailed, would moor at a buoy,
And prepare for many officialdom capers.
And send a gig, with Captain and papers,
So that Clarence could, with his Port of Entry Stamp,
Stamp the documents, although some were damp.
Yes, damp from the briney sea,
Or, perhaps it was the Captain’s cup of tea.
Then the procedure was done in reverse,
Meanwhile the Captain did grumble and curse.
It seemed such a colossal waste of time,
Doing all this, yes it was a crime.

Then the Captain would continue on to his mooring,
With the town and it’s pub waiting there, luring.
The Captain and crew, changed into their shore clothes.
Eager to see wives and sweethearts to get even more close.
Most Captains of boats from the port of Doncaster,
Were totally fed up with this officious Harbour Master.
They plotted together whilst in the Pub,
Just how they could collectively snub,
This Harbour Master irksome bloke,
Through the implementation of a practical joke.
Next time there was a most severe storm,
They would play a good trick on the worm.
While he sat at his window at the end of the pier
They would quickly nail up the door, never fear.
Then the jerk could get a big shock,
As enormous waves on his window did knock.
So that is precisely what they did do,
And Clarence Craddick did truly spew,
As he saw a giant grey wave.
Racing towards him, too late to save,
The waves hit with a thundering crash.
The Harbour Master’s office did splinter and dash,
Right into the bounding main,
Clarence was never seen again.

Is there a moral to this sad tale?
Perhaps, if one officiously does rant and rail,
It might, people to the limit drive,
Causing reaction that you may not survive.