By: Garland Davis


It was summer when she left the yards,
The deal is we can go, if we
Keep her clean, keep her running,
Heading west, to WestPac

We pass Hawaii on old tired boilers,
Shipmates together on this old gray iron,
Mac smiling that shit-eating grin,

When we finally make it.

To WestPac, boys stand up,
San Miguel in your hand, here’s to turning to,
Slowing down and girls that lay us down,

Living and laughing; drinking and wishing,
On the edge of shitfaced as that brow is raising,
Sure would like to stay in, WestPac,

Like a typhoon, the days and years roll on,
You can’t pause as we once did.
Few days in life stand out,
But life’s about days like those

In WestPac.


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A native of North Carolina, Garland Davis has lived in Hawaii since 1987. He always had a penchant for writing but did not seriously pursue it until recently. He is a graduate of Hawaii Pacific University, where he majored in Business Management. Garland is a thirty-year Navy retiree and service-connected Disabled Veteran.