Anglo-Saxon (not-so-much-a) Riddle

Have a rest and hear a tale of a
Courageous company fated to comedies of
Errors ever testing their metal.
No surer sire sailed as skipper.
The mate a mighty man of the puffin-pond.
With five fated fares they
Set the sails of their sea steed and
Wandered across the whale's way
Whiling away a wistful morning.

Wonderous and wild the weather turned.
Thunder thrones threw their fleeting
Spears of light. Shouting and laughing,
The murderous tempest tossed the tiny
ship and swept it a-shore on some
unknown island, alone and unsheltered.

Fate is a fixed thing -- thoughts of
Avoidance turn no relentless tide.
Better to bravely face your fortune.
Victory is valueless, void for the shrinking
Coward too craven to benefit from bounty.
He who attempts to save himself
Surely shall but doom himself.
Conversely, for courageous men of character,
Their deeds are everlasting even in loss.
Gaining much glory from strength of heart, their
Stories are sung in meadhalls forever. Thusly,
Ever ought the eager youth
Seek the strengths of courage and character.

Tempest tossed travelers of the Minnow
May never make their way home. Yet
All of the effort of scant survival
Shall not break their boldness of spirit.
Skipper and sailor save not themselves.
Comfort of their charges is the crew's own duty.

No horse sleighs, no high seat,
No heirloom swords, all luxuries lost.
Stark their survival in priest-like poverty
Master, and mate, and learned priest,
Gold wielder and his gracious wife,
Buxom bard, and pastoral maiden,
Seven survivors cast away and stranded,
Gathered by fate on Gilligan's Island.

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