STORMY WEATHER, BOYS
We were laying in Surrey Dock one day.
The mate knew that it was time to get under way.
cho: Stormy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys,
When the wild blows our barge will go.
He's homeward bound but he's out of luck
'Cause the skipper's half drunk in the Dog and Gun
Then the skipper came aboard with the girl on his arm
He's going to give up barging and take a farm.
So the mate ran forrard and the cook fell in the drains
And the skipper caught his knackers in the mains
The mate's at the wheel and he gybed her twice
'Cause the skipper's got his knackers in a bowl of ice
At last we're off down Limehouse Reach,
When our leeboards knocked on Greenwich Beach
The barge went ashore and scared our whore.
She said:"Chuck this, I'm off ashore."
We shoved her off and away we go,
But the skipper's got a bottle of beer below.
She fills away and she sails like heck
But there ain't no bargemen up on deck.
There's a crash and a bump and she's ashore
The mate says: "Christ, we're on the Nore."
Then up comes a mermaid covered in mud
The skipper says: "I think we're on the Whittaker Spit"
Then up comes another one covered in slime
So we took her down the focsle and had a time.
On the top of the tide the barge did fleet,
When the mate sees a ghost on the tops'l sheet
So away we go and the ghost did steer,
And the cook drank the dregs of the old man's beer.
We laid close-hauled round Orford Ness,
When the wind backed round to the south sou'west
We reached our port all safe and sound
And tied her up in Yarmouth Town.
So after all our fears and alarms
We all ended up in the Druid's Arms.
from the Oxford Book of Sea Songs, Palmer
Note: This may be the only song peculiar to the spritsail
bargemen of England's east coast, according to Palmer. RG