William Pint & Felicia Dale
Celebrating the ocean in song
Whiskey is the Life of Man
Traditional
Whiskey is the life of man,
Always been since time began
Whiskey hot, whiskey cold,
I'll drink it new, I'll drink it old
Whiskey Oh! Johnnie Oh!
John rise 'er up from down below
Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey, oh
Up aloft this yard must go.
John, rise 'er up from
down below.
Whiskey here, whiskey there,
Oh, whiskey almost everywhere!
Keep your coffee, keep your tea
Whiskey is the drink for me.
Chorus
Whiskey made me pawn me clothes,
Whiskey gave me this red nose.
Whiskey killed me poor ol' Dad,
Nearly drove me mother mad.
I thought I heard our first mate say,
I'll treat my crew in a decent way.
I’ll pour a glass for every hand,
And a bottle full for the shantyman.
whiskey up - whiskey down
whiskey all around the town
Keep yer rum -- keep yer beer
bring that whiskey bottle here
Thought I heard the old man say
Drink some whiskey every day
So here I am, I’ll take my stand
with a bottle of whiskey in each hand
I’ll tip it up and drink it down
I’ll stand ya whiskies all around
I’ll drink it every time I can
Whiskey is the life of man
Whiskey Oh! Johnnie Oh!
John rise 'er up from down below
Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey, oh
Up aloft this yard must go.
John, rise 'er up from
down below.
John, rise 'er up from
down below
The Brigantine
© Janie Meneely
Ease ’er down,
two points off the starboard bow
See her topsails pulling
as she’s closing from the west
Dark as tar,
let’s pray she’s just some fishing scow
A night like this could sprout
a few more hairs upon your chest
It’s all hands on deck, now,
ready with the running gear
We’ll bring our head around
and we’ll damn well try to run
Friend or foe,
she’s got no reason being here
Cutting cross our bow
like some hellion on the run
Steady boys,
I can’t exactly make her out
Looks to be a brigantine,
I think I see her spars
Lively now,
we may just have to come about
I wish to Hell they’d show a light
and tell us who they are
She’s got her royals flying
with the wind right off her quarterdeck
Here we’re barely making way
with zephyrs from the north
For all the years we’ve been at sea
or been around the water,
heck, I think we’re seeing something
we ain’t never seen before
The old timers tell us
all about the specter ships they’ve seen
We just sit and listen
and we hide our guffaws in our sleeve
Tonight might make us wonder
just what it is we do believe
Can you see?
There’s someone standing at the wheel
Looks to be the starlight
reflecting from his eyes
Big as life—and laughing
like he’s fit to kill . .
Did anybody notice?
There ain’t no stars tonight
She’s got her royals flying
with the wind right off
her quarterdeck
Here we’re barely making way
with zephyrs to the north
For all the years we’ve been at sea
—or been around the water, heck
I think we’re seeing something
we ain’t never seen before
Watch her go--
did she even see us here?--
Prowling through the darkness
like some demon on the outs
Leave her go.
Let’s set our course for outta here
I’d just as soon not hang around
in case she comes about
It’s all hands on deck, now,
ready with the running gear
We’ll bring her head around
and we’ll damn well try to run
Friend or foe,
she’s got no reason being here
Cutting cross our bow like some
hellion on the run
The old timers tell us
all about the specter ships they’ve seen
We just sit and listen
and we hide our guffaws in our sleeve
Tonight might make us wonder
just what it is we do believe
Shanghai Passage
C Fox Smith
“Shanghai” Brown, “Shanghai” Brown!
The Skipper of the Harvest Moon is rampin’ round the town
Looking for some sailormen to beg or steal or borrow-
Can’t get a crew an’ he wants to sail tomorrow!’
‘Prime seamen’s very scarce just now- but where’s his money down,
An I’ll see what I can do for him’, says “Shanghai” Brown
“Shanghai” Brown, “Shanghai” Brown,
He’s sent his touts an’ runners out all around the town;
He’s raked in men both high and low, he’s got both black and white;
He’s got the Lauderdale’s port watch that only berthed last night;
He’s got a brace of farmhands with the hayseeds in their hair;
He’s got a bridegroom and best man, for what does “Shanghai” care?
An’ he’s shipped ‘em in the Harvest Moon, the toughest packet goin’,
That never gets a sailor man to sign aboard her, knowin’,
With a hardcase drivin’ skipper, an a bull-voiced bucko mate,
By the Shanghai Passage from the Golden Gate
They’ll be wonderin’ in the mornin’ what it was they drank last night;
They’ll be wonderin’ what’s hit ‘em if they show an ounce of fight;
They'll be scoffin’ seaboot duff, they’ll be suppin’ handspike gruel,
An’ dodgin’ the belayin’-pins, and cursin’ Shanghai cruel;
But there’s one won’t wake or wonder, nor scoff no grub at all,
Nor drag his achin’ bones along to tally on the fall’
Nor jump to please the toughest mate New England ever bred,
Not stand no trick, nor lookout - an’ for why? Because he’s dead!
“Shanghai” Brown, “Shanghai” Brown!
The Skipper of the Harvest Moon is rampin’ round the town
Looking for some sailormen to beg or steal or borrow-
Can’t get a crew an’ he wants to sail tomorrow!’
‘Prime seamen’s very scarce these days!’, says “Shanghai” Brown,
So he’s took an’ shipped a corpse away, has “Shanghai” Brown,
By the Shanghai Passage,
outer ‘Frisco Town!
Mother Carey
John Masefield
Mother Carey?
She’s the mother o’ the witches
‘N’ all them sort o’ rips;
She’s a fine gell to look at,
but the hitch is,
She’s a sight too fond of ships;
She lives upon an iceberg
to the norred,
‘N’ her man he’s Davy Jones,
‘N’ she combs the weeds upon her
forred With pore drowned
sailors’ bones.
She’s the mother o’ the wrecks,
‘N’ the mother
Of all big winds as blows;
She’s up to some deviltry or other
When it storms, or sleets, or snows;
The noise of the wind’s her screamin’,
‘I’m arter a plump, young, fine, Brass-buttoned, beefy-ribbed young seam’n
So as me ‘n’ my mate kin dine.’
She’s a hungry old rip ‘n’ a cruel
For sailor-men like we,
She’s give a many mariners the gruel
‘N’ a long sleep under sea;
She’s the blood o’ many a crew upon her
‘N’ the bones of many a wreck,
‘N’ she's barnacles a-growin’ on her
‘N’ shark's teeth round her neck.
I ain’t never had no schoolin’
Nor read no books like you,
But I knows ‘t ain’t healthy
to be foolin’
With that there gristly two;
You’re young, you thinks,
‘N’' you’re lairy,
But if you’re to make old bones,
Steer clear, I says, o’ Mother Carey,
‘N’ that there Davy Jones.
The Anchor Song
Rudyard. Kipling
Heh! Walk her round.
Heave, ah, heave her short again!
Over, snatch her over, there
and hold her on the pawl.
Loose all sail, and brace your yards
aback and full -
Ready jib to pay her off
and heave short all!
Well, ah, fare you well; we can stay
no more with you, my love -
Down, set down your liquor
and your girl from off your knee;
For the wind has come to say:
‘You must take me while you may,
If you’d go to Mother Carey
(Walk her round to Mother Carey!)
Oh, we’re bound to Mother Carey
where she feeds her chicks at sea!’
Hey! Walk her round.
Break, ah, break it out o’ that!
Break our starboard bower out
apeak, awash and clear!
Port, port she casts
with her harbour mud
beneath her foot.
And that’s the last o’ bottom
we shall see this year!
Well, ah, fare you well
for we’ve got to take her out again -
Take her out in ballast
riding light and cargo free.
And it’s time to clear and quit
When the hawser grips the bitt,
So we’ll pay you with the foresheet
and a promise from the sea!
We’re off to Mother Carey
(Walk her round to Mother Carey).
Oh, we’re bound for Mother Carey
where she feeds her chicks at sea!
Hey! Tally on.
Aft and walk away with her!
Handsome to the cathead now;
Oh, tally on the fall!
Stop, seize and fish,
and easy on the davit-guy.
Up, well up the fluke of her,
and inboard haul!
Well, ah, fare you well,
for the Channel wind’s took hold of us,
Choking down our voices
as we snatch the gaskets free,
And it’s blowing up for night,
And she’s dropping light on light,
And she’s snorting and she’s snatching
for a breath of open sea!
We’re off to Mother Carey
(Walk her round to Mother Carey).
Oh, we’re bound for Mother Carey
where she feeds her chicks at sea!
Wheel, full and by;
but she’ll smell her road alone tonight.
Sick she is and harbour-sick -
oh, sick to clear the land!
Roll down to Brest
with the old Red Ensign over us -
Carry on and thrash her out
with all she’ll stand!
Well, ah, fare you well,
and it’s Ushant slams the door on us,
Whirling like a windmill
through the dirty scud to lee,
Till the last, last flicker goes
From the tumbling water-rows,
We’re off to Mother Carey
(Walk her round to Mother Carey).
Oh, we’re bound for Mother Carey
where she feeds her chicks at sea!
Lowlands
Traditional
Our packet is the Island Lass
Lowlands, lowlands, lowlands, low
There’s a laddie howlin’ at the main topmast
Lowlands…
It’s a bully ship and a bully crew
Lowlands…
And we’re the gang for to kick ‘er through
Lowlands…
Our skipper hails from Barbados
Lowlands, lowlands, lowlands, low
He’s got the name Old Hammertoes
Lowlands…
He feeds us bread as hard as brass
Lowlands…
Our meat’s as salt as Lot’s wife’s ass
Lowlands, lowlands, lowlands, low -
lowlands low
There’s a monkey rigged in sailor’s clothes
Lowlands, lowlands, lowlands, low
Where he got them from God only knows
Lowlands…
Round Cape Stiff we’re bound to go
Lowlands…
Round Cape Horn through the ice and snow
Lowlands, lowlands, lowlands, low - lowlands low
We’ll haul her high and let her dry
Lowlands, lowlands, lowlands, low
We’ll trice her up into the sky
Lowlands…
It’s up aloft this yard must go
Lowlands…
Up aloft from down below
Lowlands…
Thought I heard the old man say
Another pull and then belay
Lowlands me boys and up she goes
Get changed, m boys,to your shore goin’ clothes
Lowlands
High Ground
© Brian Bedford September 2002
There’s bad water flowing
Big river growing
Everyone’s going to high ground
Bad river racing
White water chasing
Time to be facing high ground
Bad weather coming
Big river humming
Everyone’s running to high ground
Black shrouds are shedding
Deep water spreading
Everyone heading for high ground
Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Rain rain let me be
That waterfall is chasing me
Bad winds are waking
Big storms are breaking
Everyone's taking the high ground
Bad times arriving
Deep water diving
Everyone’s driving to high ground
Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Rain rain let me be
That waterfall is chasing me
Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Rain rain let me be
That waterfall is chasing
Waterfall is chasing
That waterfall is chasing me
Storm clouds are growing
Flash lightning glowing
Everyone’s going to high ground
Dark thoughts are weaving
Strange thoughts of grieving
Everyone leaving for high ground
Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Rain rain let me be
That waterfall is chasing me
And there’s bad water flowing
Big river growing
Everyone’s going to high ground
Bad river racing
White water chasing
Time to be facing high ground
Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Rain rain let me be
That waterfall is chasing me
Rolling Down the Bay to Julianna
Traditional
Emma, Emma let me be
Rolling down the bay to Julianna
Oh Miss Emma don’t you cry
Rolling down the bay to Julianna
Send Miss Emma to the crow
Wish I had that girl in tow
Windward girls are hard to beat
Haul boys on your ol’ mainsheet
Oh the dawning of the day
Haul away & get your pay
Windy Weather
traditional
Haul away for the windy weather, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Haul away and pull together boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Haul away for the wind she’s a blowin’ boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Haul away and let’s get ‘er goin’ boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Haul away like jolly young sailor boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Haul away for the merchants’ money boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
God made the bees
and the bees made the honey, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
The devil made the women for to take all our money, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
God made the food
but the devil sent the cook, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
An’ the muck that he cooks
tastes worse than it looks, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
We’re rolling down to Cuba
for to load up sugar boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Find a Cuba gal I’m gonna
kiss and hug ‘er, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Oh the packet’s now a
rollin’ down the river, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
As she rolls down see
her tops’ls shiver, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
An soon we’ll be in red hot Cuba, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Oh haul away and the wind ‘ll move ‘er, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Haul away for finer weather, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Ooh, haul away for where
the weather’s better, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
So Haul away and pull together boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
We will Haul away for that windy weather, boys
Haul away, boys, haul away
Haul away, boys, haul away
We will Haul away, boys, haul away
