Whaler’s fate
Several submarines disappeared,
without a trace in the greatest, World War two,
ancient mariners of the Yankee race,
still dive’s and surface’s too,
a time shift to century twenty first,
6 torpedoes wait to run,
on the deck a 5 inch gun, immersed,
for the Japanese or Hun,
Then in the south Pacific, blue,
On Coral Sea war patrol,
A big ship of the rising sun, too,
A target like days of old,
Sailors man the deck gun of an iron look,
the whalers world is really shook.
A world war two submarine appears,
to stop the blood and flow of tears,
A rusty torpedo leaves the ship,
and punches a hole in the awful nip.
So down she goes as the water’s grippe,
the last of that awful whaling ship.
And the old Sub disappears.
Don Johnson
A thousand stars shone down that night
On the whaling ship Nancy Lee
Who set her sails and floated away
On the beautiful crystal sea
She rocked back and forth on the crest of a wave
Under an orange moon
And the men on her deck
Sang harbor songs
With the lilt of an Irish tune
At dawn's first light
The crew arose
And gazing out to the east
Spotted a whale of mighty girth
A large, magnificent beast
The ship grew close in the rising sun
That wrapped the sea in gold
As the men on the deck
Grew excited for
The adventure to unfold
Then out of nowhere came a wave
Like a monster from the deep
That thrust itself around the boat
Which caused the men to leap
The ocean growled and tore the sail
The canvass pulling free
Just like a growling, hungry bear
That swallowed the Nancy Lee
The twenty eight men lie on the floor
Of the dark and mysterious deep
And amongst the wreck of their beloved ship
They rest in a peaceful sleep
He was just a lad when he went to sea
Forty years before the mast
Now he sits on the dock alone
Living in memories of the past
He lost an eye on a whaling ship
In a fight with another man
It was not his fault, but he paid the price
He must live forever on dry land
Every day he sails again
On ships of every kind
He hears the wind sing old songs
But only in his mind.
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