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 Post subject: SEA SONGS
Post Number:#1  PostPosted: 19 Feb 2015 02:57 
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Joined: 18 Nov 2008 21:50
Posts: 2736
Location: South Pacific
I Will start off with....
Well me father often told me when I was just a lad
A sailor's life was very hard, the food was always bad
But now I've joined the navy, I'm aboard a man-o-war
And now I've found a sailor ain't a sailor any more
Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast
If you see a sailing ship it might be your last
Just get your civies ready for another run ashore
A sailor ain't a sailor, ain't a sailor anymore

Well the killock of our mess he says we've had it soft
It wasn't like this in his day when he was up aloft
We like our bunks and sleeping bags, but what's a hammock for?
Swinging from the deckhead, or lying on the floor?

Well they gave us an engine that first went up and down
Then with more technology the engine went around
We know our steam and diesel but what's a mainyard for?
A stoker ain't a stoker with a shovel anymore.

Well they gave us Aldiss lamp so we could do it right
They gave us a radio, we signaled day and night
We know our codes and cyphers but what's a semaphore?
A bunting-tosser doesn't toss the bunting anymore

Two cans of beer a day and that's your bleeding lot
Now we get an extra one because they've stopped the tot
So we'll put on our civie clothes and find a pub ashore
A sailor's still a sailor just like he was before

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 Post subject: Re:Sea Shanty
Post Number:#2  PostPosted: 30 Nov 2015 16:49 
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Joined: 20 Jun 2009 20:55
Posts: 1886
Location: Tamworth ,Staffs,
Custom: Sailors Home Spinner!
A Sea Shanty by Reg Kear, an old Salt Down Under.

There was Port and there was Starboard,

But they used to call Port: Larboard.

And the two dogs on the fo'csle held the chain.

Then there's For'd and there's Aft

Which is (from A'beam,) A'baft,

And the Mizzen never stands A'fore the Main.

There were Farmers (without pigs,)

A-rabs, Lascars, Schooner Rigs,

Lots of (right hand,) feeding after Ramadan.

There was Panama and Mokes,

And a mob of red eyed blokes

From the 12 to 4 Watch, eyeing the Blackpan.

You could Heave To, Broach, Careen,

Two of fat and one of lean

Hungry Harrisons' (from out of Liverpool.)

Or 'buff with black on top'

Where the Bosun's name was Bop,

And both his thumbs were Fids, (a splicing tool.)

You could 'Stand By' or 'Turn To'

Take the Trick from twelve til two'

Rig a Jumbo or just Holystone the Deck;

Chippin'ammer 'cross the Atlantic,

Whitelead'n'tallow the Triatic,

Watch the Stemhead break the ice up near Quebec.

There were Tabnabs, there was Scouse,

Scuppers, Bulwarks, a Wheelhouse,

And drums were lashed A'baft the Lazerette.

You could 'Skin Out' of a Tanker,

Paint the Truck a'top the Spanker,

Soogie Funnels, hung on Gantlines, Fleet by Fleet.

You could 'Sign On' and 'Pay Off',

Turn your head away and cough;

Get the 'Channels' when the orders were Lands End.

Shackle to a Samson Post,

Blame the Liverpool Man's Ghost,

Or there's always an Allotment you could send.

There were Ratlines and Crosstrees,

No Blue Jeans, just Dungarees;

Fifteen hundred 'Girls' for hire down in Recife.

There were 'Plummers' down the 'Mouth',

One of Ropner's heading south,

Where the mail would go ashore at Tenerife.

There were Shifting Boards and Dunnage

And you knew the average tonnage

Of a Port Boat, steaming by at Fifteen Knots.

The Welsh Donkeyman from Hants

And the slack in Trimmer's pants,

And the 4 to 8 Watch, stinking in their cots.

Shonky Bum Boats at Port Said,

Gun'ls, Gimbals and Redlead;

Roaring Forties, Round the Horn and Abadan.

There were Palm and Needle Whippings,

Lots of Mother Carey's chickens,

And a Fine Bone China Tea Set, from Japan.

There were Doxfords and Twin Screws,

And the strangest looking stews

Came from Galleys' where the cook was often called

Names that questioned if his Dad

Had been married, or just mad,

Or just needed all his tackle overhauled.

The Red Duster, Carrick Bend,

Take a turn on the Drum End;

Starboard Helm, now, Steady As She Goes.

Port Side Bitts, Pacific Swells,

1 to 6 HEAVE, Seven Bells;

Get that Stopper on, LOOK LIVELY ON YOUR TOES.

Stockholm Tar and Cleaning Tanks,

Liberty Ships and Dogger banks,

Shifting Ship round to the Royal Edward Dock.

Monkey's Fist, Splice with the Lay,

First and Last, Logged two day's pay,

Last Pierhead Jump before She's through the Lock.

Hatchboards, Coamings, Bosun's Chair,

Bowsed right in under the Flare,

New Year's 16 Bells (in Denmark's Esbjerg Sound.)

Mouse that Hook and Masthead Light,

Malacca Straits, Australian Bight,

Sixteen Indian Rupees to the Pound.

Oakum, Sextant, Fo'csle Head;

Maracaibo, Swing the Lead;

Drop the Pilot, Single Up and Spit a'lee.

Capstan Full Strength, On the Rake,

Sounds that sailors used to make;

Merchant Seamen's sounds that floated on the sea.

All these strange sounds; now they're gone;

Merchant Seamen lost their song;

The Iron Ships rust; the Wooden Men quietly gaze,

Reminiscing in their beer,

"Remember: Elson...Hopton...Kear...??"

"I wonder what they're doing, now-a-days."

Reg Kear crossed the Bar this November 2015

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