In the Fall of 1803

In the fall of 1803, The good ship, “The Queen Ann’s Knees” Sailed out on the bounding seas. Out of sight of the land The captain looked grand As with little ado He spoke to his crew: “Men, I’ve nothing to hide! You all may have noticed how wide Is that big blue thing outside, Just over the railing. So keep this in mind while we’re sailing; The ocean is deep and mysterious And can be at times quite serious. ‘Though I’ve sailed on the water From Crete and Gibraltar To the Lesser Antilles, It still always gives me the willies.” “But to our duty we shall always adhere. What that is is however not clear. I had all of our orders, I thought, in my quarters That in words quite precise (In fact really nice!) Told what to do while afloat; But I left them at home in my coat.” “But never mind that, we’ll just play it by ear, And pretend that there’s nothing to fear.” And so the ship sailed on Through storm and through calm Till the month of December When he said he remembered, Using logic deductive, What the admiral instructed: Go to the Sandwich Islands And bring back two Hawaiians. So they sailed one morn Around the Horn And on into Pacific waters Where thoughts of their daughters And wives Helped to keep most of the men alive. And many and many a year had passed When the ship returned, broken, demasted, And its harbor came into view. What remained of the crew Went ashore and disported While to the Admiral the Captain reported. “My Admiral, as per your instructions, Through distress and wanton destructions, Through monsoons and lagoons And fearsome typhoons, We sailed Isles of Sandwich And in sorrow and anguish We brought back two Hawaiians From those far distant islands." “Jolly good!” the Admiral responded, “But as I recall, before you absconded Those many long years ago, I just asked that you go To the pub down below And pick up my lunch (Or was it my brunch?): A ham sandwich and a Blue Hawaiian. So, now that you’ve paid your visit, My bloody lunch, where the hell is it?”