The Rock That Blocked the Waves

He built a prison, called it a spa—then blamed the waves for going too far

By Ross Boulton | Virtue: Wisdom vs. Foolishness

High on a rock where the sea winds bite,

Eagleton squawked with all of his might:

“This island is mine! I’ll make it grand—

A place to detain the no-good and banned!”

“No more weasels or sneaky mice—

We’ll build a big jail and charge them twice!

We'll lock up the lot, we’ll shut every gate—

And name it, of course, Alcatraz the Great!”

The Buzzards from By-Law flapped in fast,

With folders, pens, and opinions vast.

“This plan is bold!” one buzzard cawed—

(Though none had checked if the rock was flawed.)

They wired the cliffs and fenced the shore,

Hung signs that read: “Don't Come Anymore!”

They painted it gold and cleared the brush—

But forgot the tides and the rising rush.

Crabbie the Crow just stared and frowned:

“This rock floods twice when the moon swings 'round.

The last crew here? They tried to stay—

But the waves washed most of them away.”

Maple the Goose flew in from the bay

With treaties and letters and forest say.

“You build on a bluff without knowing the tide,

And soon even strong wings won’t help you glide.”

Then Eagleton flapped with a glint in his eye,

“A prison’s too dull—we need luxury high!

We’ll swap out the cells for hot-tub lagoons,

And shrimp that perform on gold-plated spoons!”

They ditched all the bars, brought in fake palms,

Hung disco-shell lights and pineapple balms.

They called it Club Crest—a velvet mirage,

With a throne made of mirrors and ten kinds of massage.

“Only the best!” he puffed with delight,

“No facts, no frogs, no bugs in sight!

Velvet perches and glitter-bird stew,

And selfie booths where I pose with you!”

But the tides rolled in and the sauna smoked,

The smoothie machine got frogged and choked.

A pelican slipped on the spa’s fake reef,

And guests fled for shore with towels in their beaks.

The gift shop sold a single vest,

A crab got lost in the linen chest.

The fountain burst, the eggs turned gray—

But Eagleton fluffed and shouted, “Fake!”

“It’s sabotage! It’s a press-made mess!

All lies and smears from the seabird press!”

Then Lantern blinked from her rocky nook:

“Next time, read a tide chart before the hook.”

And Maple sighed, wings over her beak:

“A prison, a spa—what next week?

Just another old rock… that blocked the waves.”

Moral:

You can’t outbuild the ocean—or outblame the tide.

Why I Wrote This

I wrote The Rock That Blocked the Waves as a satirical fable about vanity, spectacle, and the danger of mistaking noise for leadership. Inspired by the absurdity of turning Alcatraz into a prison for immigrants—then rebranding it as a luxury resort—this story plays out the folly of ego-driven decisions in a world that still obeys tides, truth, and consequences.

Eagleton represents a kind of leadership that swaps judgment for showmanship, and fences for fans. He builds without listening, pivots without thinking, and blames everyone but himself when it all falls apart. But Lantern and Maple offer a quiet counterpoint: that wisdom glows in stillness, and real change begins with understanding, not shouting.

This story is for anyone—child or adult—who’s ever watched a leader build castles on sand and call them strongholds. It reminds us that nature, like truth, always rises back up.