The first whale that we raised, it was late in the day, Which caused our bol’ cap’n these kind words to say, “Get ye down to your hammocks an’ there quietly lay. We’ll raise him in the mornin’ at break o’ the day.”
’Twas early next mornin’ just as the sun rose, That a man at the masthead sung out, “Thar she blows!” “Where away?” shouts the skipper, an’ the answer from aloft, “Three p’ints on the lee bow an’ ’bout three mile off.”
“Then call up all han’s and be o’ good cheer, Get your lines in your boats an’ your tackle-falls clear. Hoist an’ swing fore and aft, stan’ by each boat’s crew, Lower away, lower away, when the mainyard swings to.”
Now the cap’n is fast an’ the whale has gone down, An’ the chief mate lies waitin’ his line to bend on. Now the whale has come up, like a log he did lay. It can never be said that he gave us fair play.
Amid the uproarious applause that followed, Cap’n Pem beat a hasty retreat and the Captain rose and stepped forward.
“My turn now, boys,” he shouted, “and then the fun’s over,” and with his words ringing far across the silent tropic sea, he sang:
’Twas a love of adventure and a longing for gold, And a hardened desire to roam, Tempted me far away o’er the watery world, Far away from my kindred and home.
With a storm-beaten cap’n so fearless and bold, And a score of brave fellows or two, Far away to the hardships, the hunger and cold, Sailed this fearless and jovial crew.
Have you ever cruised on Diego’s bold shores, That are washed by the Antarctic wave? Where the white-pluméd albatross merrily soars O’er many a poor whaler’s grave?
Did you ever hear tell of that mighty sperm whale, That when boldly attacked in his lair, With one sweep of his mighty and ponderous tail Sends the whaleboat so high in the air?
Did you ever join in those heart-wringing cheers, With your face turned towards Heaven’s blue dome As laden with riches you purchased so dear You hoisted your topsails,—bound home?
Deafening were the hand clappings and shouts of approval that followed, and then, as the eight silvery notes of the bell pealed out across the waves the one-legged bo’sun leaped forward.
“Three cheers for the foinest cap’n phwat iver sailed a whaleship!” he cried. Rousing were the huzzas that followed, and once again the Irishman raised his voice. “An’ three more for our fri’nd Misther Potter phwat saved the barrk—a foine, brave whaleman aven if he has a wooden lig! An’ three toimes three fer Misther Kemp, phwat makes ye into foine sailor min—aiven if he bates the loife out o’ yez to do it. An’ three more for thim b’yes—the foine thurrd an’ fourth mates!”