Doesn’t every paddling blog have a poet in residence? Well, we do.
We met Mark Hochmuth at the Great Lakes Sea Kayak Symposium two years ago, when he was a student in our one-coach class (in which a group of students stays with the same coach or coaches for the entire weekend, instead of taking part in the a la carte symposium classes). His enthusiasm and his questions were inspiring, and we had a great weekend with him and nine other participants. He signed up again the next year.
In between symposia, Mark sent us poems. Some were about seasons, some about paddling. At one point, he sent us a collection of poems inspired by the Beaufort scale. He doesn’t submit his poems for publication or read them at public events; he just shares them with people he thinks will appreciate them. Which includes us.
After much thought, we asked Mark whether he’d be willing to be our poet in residence, and allow us to publish some of his poems on our blog. And generously (not to mention modestly), he agreed.
So here is the inaugural poem of Mark’s poet in residence program–a poem about a young Arctic explorer from Kalamazoo–that reminds us how fortunate we are to be able to get out in the cold and return safely home.
Thank you, Mark, for agreeing to share these with the paddling public.
For Edward Israel, Arctic Pioneer; b. 1849 d. 1884
Sergeant, Signal Corp, U.S. Army; 1881 Arctic Expedition
A writer’s ink flows in the warmth of home
As his thoughts drift to a snow covered hill
In the old cemetery called Mountain Home
An obelisk endures another winter’s chill
Where it has stood one hundred thirty years
For Edward Israel who perished in arctic cold
Scientist and explorer, age twenty-five years
A monument to bravery and suffering untold
One of eighteen men who starved to death
A national tragedy, an arctic expedition
On Ellesmere Island in Canada’s far north
Another executed for stealing food rations
Relief ships in ice, three years no resupply
Desperate 500 mile retreat, six men survived
Including commander Lt. Adolphus Greeley
Only body of Edward Israel not cannibalized
A historical marker commemorates his short life
The museum has last letter written to home
In pencil with calm resolve explaining plight
Though all experienced history will never know…
We, who seek the out-of- doors in winter, empathize
Whether by foot, skis, snowshoes, kayak or canoe
Hopefully, like hardships none shall ever realize
And always return to comfort of hearth and home
Great, Mark. Good to see your poem. Hope you publish more.