Mixed Moss

1) We had a British Christmas this year: Sunday roast with peas and Yorkshire pudding, and a sticky pudding for dessert (the sort with cherries and chocolate in it and decorated with holly sprigs). Sam and Rachel, I’m sure, will appreciate that one.

2) I watched White Christmas and Pirates of the Carribean on TV. Now, that’s my kind of holiday programming!

3) New year’s resolution: learn to tap dance.

4) For Christmas I got tap shoes, Casablanca (alright, so my Dad burned the disk from TV. It still counts!) and a belted brown leather jacket, the sort a woman might wear with a fedora in a Humphrey Bogart film noir. Yes! It’s fabulous. So cool. I can’t wait to wear it with red lipstick.

5) I’ve decided that when I grow up, I want to be either a) Lauren Bacall, b) Vera-Ellen, or c) a pirate. Except that I don’t have the legs to be Vera-Ellen or the voice to be Bacall, so pirate it is!

To get my new career off on the right foot, here’s a sea shanty or two. Actually the first is just a song but if you look at the italics in the ones after that you can see the rhythms to which the sailors would have been hauling on lines or turning the capstan. Think of the sound of the sailors deep voices, half singing, half chanting; the rhythm of the music, the rhythm of waves slapping the hull of the ship, of flags flapping, of ropes snapping, of the wind humming. The feel of the wind in your face and the rock up the deck below. It has it’s own appeal.

Spanish Ladies

Farewell and adieu to you, gay Spanish ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain,
For we’ve received orders for to sail to old England;
But we hope very soon we shall see you again.

Well rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,
We’ll rant and we’ll roar across the salt seas,
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

Then we hove our ship to with the wind at sou’-west, my boys,
We hove our ship to our soundings for to see;
So we rounded and sounded, and got forty-five fathoms,
We squared our mainyard, up channel steered we.

Well rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,
We’ll rant and we’ll roar across the salt seas,
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

Now the first land we made it is called the Deadman,
Then Ram Head off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and Wight;
We sailed by Beachy, by Fairlee and Dungeness,
Until we came abreast of the South Foreland Light.

Well rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,
We’ll rant and we’ll roar across the salt seas,
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

Then the signal was made for the grand fleet for to anchor,
All in the Downs that night for to meet;
Then it’s stand by your stoppers, let go your shank painters,
Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets.

Well rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,
We’ll rant and we’ll roar across the salt seas,
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

Now let every man toss off a full bumper,
And let every man toss off a full bowl;
And we’ll drink and be merry and drown melancholy,
Singing, here’s a good health to all true-hearted souls.

Well rant and we’ll roar like true British sailors,
We’ll rant and we’ll roar across the salt seas,
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues.

A Long Time Ago
A long, long time, and a long time ago,
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
A long, long time, and a long time ago,
A long time ago.

A smart Yankee packet lay out in the bay,
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
A-waiting for a fair wind to get under way,
A long time ago.

With all her poor sailors all sick and all sore.
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
For they’d drunk all their limejuice, and could get no more,
A long time ago.

With all her poor sailors all sick and all sad,
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
For they’d drunk all the limejuice, and no more could be had,
A long time ago.

She was waiting for a fair wind to get under way,
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
She was waiting for a fair wind to get under way,
A long time ago.

If she hasn’t had a fair wind she’s lying there still,
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
If she hasn’t had a fair wind she’s lying there still,
A long time ago.

A dollar a day is a stevedore’s pay
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
A dollar a day, I heard them say
A long time ago.

I bought in Hong Kong a pretty silk dress
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
I’m taking it home to my sweetheart Bess,
A long time ago.

My Bess is fair and sweet to view
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
Her hair is brown and her eyes are blue,
A long time ago.

I thought I heard our second mate say
To me way hay, o-hi-o;
One more pull, and then belay,
A long time ago.

Hanging Johnny

They call me hanging Johnny,
Away, boys, away!
They say I hang for money
So hang, boys, hang!

They say I hanged my mother,
Away, boys, away!
My sisters and my brothers
So hang, boys, hang!

They say I hanged my granny,
Away, boys, away!
I strung her up so canny
So hang, boys, hang!

They say I hung a copper,
Away, boys, away!
I gave him the long dropper
So hang, boys, hang!

I’d hang the mates and skippers,
Away, boys, away!
I’d hang ‘em by their flippers
So hang, boys, hang!

A rope, a beam, a ladder,
Away, boys, away!
I’ll hang ye all together
So hang, boys, hang!

Hang `em from the yardarm,
Away, boys, away!
Hang the sea and buy a pigfarm
So hang, boys, hang!

They say I hang for money,
Away, boys, away!
Hanging ain’t bloody funny
So hang, boys, hang!

They call me hanging Johnny,
Away, boys, away!
Ain’t never hanged nobody
So hang, boys, hang!

What Shall We Do With a Drunken Sailor

What should we do with a drunken sailor
What should we do with a drunken sailor
What should we do with a drunken sailor
Early in the morning.

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning.

Give him a hair of the dog that bit him
Give him a hair of the dog that bit him
Give him a hair of the dog that bit him
Early in the morning.

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning.

Put him in the scuppers with the hose pipe on him
Put him in the scuppers with the hose pipe on him
Put him in the scuppers with the hose pipe on him
Early in the morning.

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning.

Hoist him up to the topsail yardarm
Hoist him up to the topsail yardarm
Hoist him up to the topsail yardarm
Early in the morning.

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning.

Throw him in the brig until he’s sober
Throw him in the brig until he’s sober
Throw him in the brig until he’s sober
Early in the morning.

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning.

That’s what to do with a drunken sailor
That’s what to do with a drunken sailor
That’s what to do with a drunken sailor
Early in the morning.

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 26th, 2006 at 12:25 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.