The Cruise of the Calibar (3)
When I were young and in my prime, as lazy as can be;
I stepped on board a Bradford fly, her number were twenty-three,
As we seet sail fro' Galsey Bay, we geet lost in a terrible fog,
An th'only mate aboard that flat were Dookey's Airredale dog.
Now when we geet a bit further on, we met owd twenty-one,
John Dakin he were steering, he'd a Bradford fly hung on,
That Bradford fly were owd Dolly's John, Owd Dolly stood on t'bow deck,
When t'tow rope broke and catched owd Dolly a belt at t'back o't'neck.
We sailed along quite merrily till we come to Aintree Val,
And then it started raining, by gum it went dark wi' cloud,
I catched me foot in t'stern rail and went slurring reight on t'deck,
And I went heead forst down t'scuttle hole and I nearly broke my neck.
Me fayther were doon in t'cabin, he were having a bit o' scoff,
He said, now lad be careful, Tha welly knocked t'kettle off,
Tha'd better frame and start pumping for I think we've sprung a leak,
And I wished I'd never gone booating for my living for to seek.
Soon after that we'd an awful shock, we met another ship,
And that were old Tom Rover, he were on a Sunda' Schoo' trip,
He shouted out "Howd in, you clown", I forgeet and howded out,
And we met stem up in t'middle o' cut, By gum and I geet a clout.
We ended up w't' booat i't' pawnshop and our crew went to Walton Jail,
And I'm th' only survivor who lived to tell the tale,
I've 'ed some happy memories, and some bad 'uns too, I vow,
But I'll never forget when I war t' fost mate, on board o' the Calibar