C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
The Yarn of the “Loch Achray”
By John Masefield (1878–1967)
T
With seven-and-twenty hands in all.
Twenty to hand and reef and haul,
A skipper to sail and mates to brawl
“Tally on the tackle-fall,
Heave now’n’ start her, heave’n’ pawl!”
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
So-long, my Tottie, my lovely gell;
We sail to-day if we fetch to hell,
It’s time we tackled the wheel a spell.”
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
The day that she towed down to sea:
“Lord, what a handsome ship she be!
Cheer her, sonny boys, three times three!”
And the dockside loafers gave her a shout
As the red-funnelled tug-boat towed her out;
They gave her a cheer as the custom is,
And the crew yelled “Take our loves to Liz—
Three cheers, bullies, for old Pier Head
’N’ the bloody stay-at-homes!” they said.
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
She dropped the tug at the Tuskar Light,
’N’ the topsails went to the topmast head
To a chorus that fairly awoke the dead.
She trimmed her yards and slanted South
With her royals set and a bone in her mouth.
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
They ate, they slept, and they struck the bell
And I give you a gospel truth when I state
The crowd didn’t find any fault with the Mate,
But one night off the River Plate.
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
And burrowed her deep, lee-scuppers under.
The old man said, “I mean to hang on
Till her canvas busts or her sticks are gone”—
Which the blushing looney did, till at last
Overboard went her mizzen-mast.
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
And bowed her down to her water-way;
Her main-shrouds gave and her forestay,
And a green sea carried her wheel away;
Ere the watch below had time to dress
She was cluttered up in a blushing mess.
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
And she got swept clean in the bloody trough,
Her masts were gone, and afore you knowed
She filled by the head and down she goed.
Her crew made seven-and-twenty dishes
For the big jack-sharks and the little fishes,
And over their bones the water swishes.
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.
For a ship as won’t come home again.
“I reckon it’s them head-winds,” they say,
“She’ll be home to-morrow, if not to-day.
I’ll just nip home ’n’ I’ll air the sheets
’N’ buy the fixin’s ’n’ cook the meats
As my man likes ’n’ as my man eats.”
Thinking their men are homeward bound
With anchors hungry for English ground,
And the bloody fun of it is, they’re drowned!
Hear the yarn of a sailor,
An old yarn learned at sea.