The Fate of the Flying Dutchman

Gather friends if you care to hear, I’ll favor you with a tale About the fate of a gallant ship that long ago did sail Built of the finest teak wood in the year sixteen-thirty-nine A three mast frigate tall and sleek the pride of the Holland line One-hundred-twenty-three feet she was from her stern to her stem She had a noble captain with a crew hand picked by him Her beam was forty feet across and three hundred tons she’d weigh As she left from home in Holland on that fateful summer day She’d made this journey many times; this was just another run As she sailed towards her eastern port in sixteen-forty-one The ship arrived quite safe at port and received her cargo load And then began her journey back along her seaward road Off the shores of the African coast a storm began to brew The ocean was quite treacherous unknownst to the gallant crew In the stormy seas the ship made way towards the Cape of Hope The violent winds blew mercilessly as each crewman grabbed a rope As the ship began to flounder in the waters off the coast Her angry captain shook his fist and began to loudly boast The words the captain uttered became a curse old seamen say He shouted “I’ll sail past this cape if it takes until doomsday” From that time on the tale’s been told of the story of this ship And what the fates have cursed her with upon that final trip It’s said that on a stormy night off the waters of the shores That you can see the phantom ship as the angry ocean roars Some ships have sailed through eerie mists and there within the gloom They have seen the shadowed specter of this cursed ship of doom For those poor souls who’ve seen the ship must share its fate they say And join its lonely crew on board as the ship goes on its way There are not too many mariners who haven’t heard the tale Of the phantom ship whose crew was lost out in a stormy gale Few are those that can tell the tale as knowingly as I can I'm one of the cursed crew of the fabled Flying Dutchman