Reg Kear

[Doc Vernon]

Reg Kear died last night, 11.38 pm on 18th November 2015.

Oh what a shock,he was always so nice to everyone and I still have the Book of Poems signed by Reg that was given to me free !
I am very sad to hear this news and would like to send Sincere Condolences to all his immediate Family and all good Friends as well.

Be sure that Reg will not be forgotten here
Rest in Peace my Friend!

With Respect and Sincerity

If I may I am attaching this File with Respect!
20151120_124507.jpg

May your sails now take you to places that you once knew and enjoyed so well!



Footnote added Today to remember the Notice on Main Page!

Reg Kear died last night, 11.38 pm on 18th November 2015.
Last known position of this mariner: - 38 degrees, 9 minutes South, - 145 degrees, 7 minutes, 42 seconds East Off Port Phillip Bay, Victoria Australia. Sailor, Sensei, Poet, Philosopher. Husband, Father, and beloved Brother.
He died peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by family.

[Keith at Tregenna]

SEA SHANTY

There was Port and there was Starboard,
But they used to call Port: Larboard.
And the two dogs on the fo'csle held the chain.
Then there's For'd and there's Aft
Which is (from A'beam,) A'baft,
And the Mizzen never stands A'fore the Main.

There were Farmers (without pigs,)
A-rabs, Lascars, Schooner Rigs,
Lots of (right hand,) feeding after Ramadan.
There was Panama and Mokes,
And a mob of red eyed blokes
From the 12 to 4 Watch, eyeing the Blackpan.

You could Heave To, Broach, Careen,
Two of fat and one of lean
Hungry Harrisons' (from out of Liverpool.)
Or 'buff with black on top'
Where the Bosun's name was Bop,
And both his thumbs were Fids, (a splicing tool.)

You could 'Stand By' or 'Turn To'
Take the Trick from twelve til two'
Rig a Jumbo or just Holystone the Deck;
Chippin'ammer 'cross the Atlantic,
Whitelead'n'tallow the Triatic,
Watch the Stemhead break the ice up near Quebec.

There were Tabnabs, there was Scouse,
Scuppers, Bulwarks, a Wheelhouse,
And drums were lashed A'baft the Lazerette.
You could 'Skin Out' of a Tanker,
Paint the Truck a'top the Spanker,
Soogie Funnels, hung on Gantlines, Fleet by Fleet.

You could 'Sign On' and 'Pay Off',
Turn your head away and cough;
Get the 'Channels' when the orders were Lands End.
Shackle to a Samson Post,
Blame the Liverpool Man's Ghost,
Or there's always an Allotment you could send.

There were Ratlines and Crosstrees,
No Blue Jeans, just Dungarees;
Fifteen hundred 'Girls' for hire down in Recife.
There were 'Plummers' down the 'Mouth',
One of Ropner's heading south,
Where the mail would go ashore at Tenerife.

There were Shifting Boards and Dunnage
And you knew the average tonnage
Of a Port Boat, steaming by at Fifteen Knots.
The Welsh Donkeyman from Hants
And the slack in Trimmer's pants,
And the 4 to 8 Watch, stinking in their cots.

Shonky Bum Boats at Port Said,
Gun'ls, Gimbals and Redlead;
Roaring Forties, Round the Horn and Abadan.
There were Palm and Needle Whippings,
Lots of Mother Carey's chickens,
And a Fine Bone China Tea Set, from Japan.

There were Doxfords and Twin Screws,
And the strangest looking stews
Came from Galleys' where the cook was often called
Names that questioned if his Dad
Had been married, or just mad,
Or just needed all his tackle overhauled.

The Red Duster, Carrick Bend,
Take a turn on the Drum End;
Starboard Helm, now, Steady As She Goes.
Port Side Bitts, Pacific Swells,
1 to 6 HEAVE, Seven Bells;
Get that Stopper on, LOOK LIVELY ON YOUR TOES.

Stockholm Tar and Cleaning Tanks,
Liberty Ships and Dogger banks,
Shifting Ship round to the Royal Edward Dock.
Monkey's Fist, Splice with the Lay,
First and Last, Logged two day's pay,
Last Pierhead Jump before She's through the Lock.

Hatchboards, Coamings, Bosun's Chair,
Bowsed right in under the Flare,
New Year's 16 Bells (in Denmark's Esbjerg Sound.)
Mouse that Hook and Masthead Light,
Malacca Straits, Australian Bight,
Sixteen Indian Rupees to the Pound.

Oakum, Sextant, Fo'csle Head;
Maracaibo, Swing the Lead;
Drop the Pilot, Single Up and Spit a'lee.
Capstan Full Strength, On the Rake,
Sounds that sailors used to make;
Merchant Seamen's sounds that floated on the sea.

All these strange sounds; now they're gone;
Merchant Seamen lost their song;
The Iron Ships rust; the Wooden Men quietly gaze,
Reminiscing in their beer,
"Remember: Elson...Hopton...Kear...??"
"I wonder what they're doing, now-a-days."

Reg Kear © 1992. Australia

[Evan Lewis]

A sad loss.
One of my biggest regrets ,is never getting to Meet him.
It was in the early days of this Site. When his Voice,Recording of His Poem. A real Gem! was introduced to us.by Brian.
Felt as if one was actually aboard ship, with him.
Lived quite near Him ,on the Penninsula. Though it was only after leaving
That I became aware it.
R.I.P. Sailor.

[j.sabourn]

Every line has some meaning and reference to a sailor. Cant be too many left now. Even the few words spit a lee. For non seafarers was always spit down wind or your likely to get it all back in the face. Cheers JS

[happy daze john in oz]

A good man who wrote some very excellent poems. His legacy will live in them and sincere condolences to his family.

[Frank Appleford]

I still play the seaman's poem often, the words mean so much to me!

[Captain Kong]

I always enjoyed listening to his voice reading his poem , above,
always sad to lose another SAILOR.
Condolences to all his family.
Brian

[cappy]

condolences to the family ......also the news that an old vindi boy clifford simpson passed away on mon ......shippped out of liverpool also a bosun ....at 92 years of age lived in silsden.......a true character of humour and always a smile ......told me as a boy in an old coal burner he sailed through that narrow strait i think it was east of java somewhere ......he could tell a good yarn ....i liked the man god bless them both ...calm seas.......regards cappy

[Tony Morcom]

R.I.P another gentleman seafarer and poet extraordinaire ~ Reg Kear. Your legacy lives on.

[Neil Morton]

R.I.P another gentleman seafarer and poet extraordinaire ~ Reg Kear. Your legacy lives on.

Never a truer word written Tony. I met Reg just once. As we lived in close proximity we arranged to meet at the Frankston RSL. A quiet unassuming man, short of stature but with an undeniable presence I knew him the moment he walked into the room. I had travelled to the club by bus and Reg insisted on driving me home.

I will endeavour to find the funeral details and attend for all you lads.

Cheers Neil.