Whaling In 1844

WHALING IN 1844 All hands came aboard In March we left Deptford Bound for Greenland’s whales and Rather it was Wales’s green land. The lookout on the mainmast tied Saw her white spout and cried “Thar she blows, mates” And the shellbacks straight Manned the harpoon boats Pulling tight their oilskin coats Even in the teeth of the squall Captain Thomas called to overhaul Boats were lowered and men aboard Thinking of their whale-reward Harpoon struck and the line paid out She leapt with pain and turned about The blue tail went skyward Here was their whale reward Smash into the boat and five Floating men no longer alive Losing the men was adverse But losing the whale was a curse The school would disperse Affecting each man’s purse The Baffin ice was thicker now Under the yards, under the prow So we set sail for England half-full And ran south our icy hull Home now and a short-time lull We’ll soon be back for another cull.