Blokes in boats. The Derwent Estuary, as seen from A.J. White Park, Battery Point. May 2012. I can never really decide if this Stevie Smith poem is one of the most depressing that I know, or one of the most amusing. I think that it seems to depend on my mood. Not Waving But Drowning , Stevie Smith Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.