Not Pedalling, but Drowning

For all those who hate being in open water but dared (once in their lives) to face the fear, and with some gratitude extended to Stevie:

My boat is sinking; let me see –
What items shall I take with me?
What will I do without my phone,
In mid-Med waters, all alone?

I’ll rescue from the sinking ‘boat’
All items that don’t sink, but float.
There’s last night’s empty alcopop;
Tequila, but no lime or salt.

A Mars Bar floats close by my hand.
I’ll make it last ’til I reach land.
I’ll use my will and ration it,
And only eat it bit by bit.

I spy a bottle – no!  There’s two,
Floating on the waters blue.
The colour yellow makes me think
They may not be so good to drink.

I’d catch a fish in an eye’s blink,
But all I sense is one great stink.
No-one at home prepared me for
Gutting a fish, eating it raw.

Don’t panic!  Keep myself quite calm
And hope I come to no great harm.
I’ll signal my distress to shore
And ride a pedalo no more.