“Starter” Sea Shanties, 8-13-14 from the Website
The site has lyrics and videos of people singing most of the selected shanties.
(Forgive the title of this website. We all know women and men can sing sea shanties with power).
1. Blow the man down
2. Roll the old chariot
3. The coasts of old Barbary
4. Spanish ladies
5. The bonny ship the diamond
6. Rolling down to old maui
7. Blood red roses
8. Fiddlers green
9Haul away joe
Blow the Man Down
Traditional – Lyrics from Songs of American Sailormen, by Joanna Colcord
Oh, blow the man down, bullies, blow the man down!
To me way-aye, blow the man down.
Oh, Blow the man down, bullies, blow him right down!
Give me some time to blow the man down!
As I was a-walking down Paradise Street,
To me way-aye, blow the man down.
A pretty young damsel I chanced for to meet.
Give me some time to blow the man down!
She was round in the counter and bluff in the bow,
So I took in all sail and cried “Way enough now.”
I hailed her in English, she answered me clear,
“I’m from the Black Arrow bound to the Shakespeare.”
So I tailed her my flipper and took her in tow,
And yardarm to yardarm away we did go.
But as we were going she said unto me,
“There’s a spanking full-rigger just ready for sea.”
That spanking full-rigger to New York was bound;
She was very well manned and very well found.
But soon as that packet was clear of the bar,
The mate knocked me down with the end of a spar,
And as soon as that packet was out on the sea,
`Twas devilish hard treatment of every degree.
So I give you fair warning before we belay;
Don’t never take heed of what pretty girls say.
Roll The Old Chariot Along
Traditional – Lyrics from Shanties from the Seven Seas, by Stan Hugill
Oh, a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,
Oh, a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,
Oh, a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,
An’ we’ll all hang on behind!
So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
An’ we’ll roll the golden chariot along!
So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
An’ we’ll all hang on behind!
Oh, a plate of Irish stew wouldn’t do us any harm,
Oh, a plate of Irish stew wouldn’t do us any harm,
Oh, a plate of Irish stew wouldn’t do us any harm,
An’ we’ll all hang on behind!
So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
An’ we’ll roll the golden chariot along!
So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
An’ we’ll all hang on behind!
Oh, a nice fat cook wouldn’t do us any harm.
Oh, a roll in the clover wouldn’t do us any harm.
Oh, a long spell in gaol wouldn’t do us any harm.
Oh, a nice watch below wouldn’t do us any harm.
Oh, a night with the gals wouldn’t do us any harm.
The Coasts of High Barbary
Traditional – Lyrics from Iron Men & Wooden Ships, by Frank Shay
There were two lofty ships from old England came,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
One was the Prince of Luther, and the other Prince of Wales,
Cruising down along the coast of the High Barbaree.
“Aloft there, aloft!” our jolly boatswain cries,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
“Look ahead, look astern, look aweather and alee,
Look along down the coast of the High Barbaree.”
There’s nought upon the stern, there’s nought upon the lee,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
But there’s a lofty ship to windward, and she’s sailing fast and free,
Sailing down along the coast of the High Barbaree.
“Oh, hail her, Oh, hail her,” our gallant captain cried,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
“Are you a man-o’-war or a privateer,” said he,
“Cruising down along the coast of the High Barbaree.”
“Oh, I am not a man-o’-war nor privateer,” said he,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
“But I’m a salt-sea pirate a-looking for my fee,
“Cruising down the coast of the High Barbaree.”
Oh, ’twas broadside to broadside a long time we lay,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
Until the Prince of Luther shot the pirate’s masts away,
Cruising down along the coast of the High Barbaree.
“Oh, quarter, Oh, quarter,” those pirates then did cry,
Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;
But the quarter that we gave them – we sunk them in the sea,
Coming down along the coast of the High Barbaree.
The Bonnie Ship the Diamond
The Diamond is a ship, my lads, for the Davis Strait she’s bound,
And the quay it is all garnished with bonny lasses ’round;
Captain Thompson gives the order to sail the ocean wide,
Where the sun it never sets, my lads, no darkness dims the sky,
Chorus:
So it’s cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale.
Along the quay at Peterhead, the lasses stand aroon,
Wi’ their shawls all pulled around them and the salt tears runnin’ doon;
Don’t you weep, my bonny lass, though you be left behind,
For the rose will grow on Greenland’s ice before we change our mind.
So it’s cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale.
Here’s a health to the Resolution, likewise the Eliza Swan,
Here’s a health to the Battler of Montrose and the Diamond, ship of fame;
We wear the trouser o’ the white and the jackets o’ the blue,
When we return to Peterhead, we’ll hae sweethearts anoo,
So it’s cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale.
It’ll be bricht both day and nicht when the Greenland lads come hame,
Wi’ a ship that’s fu’ of oil, my lads, and money to our name;
We’ll make the cradles for to rock and the blankets for to tear,
And every lass in Peterhead sing “Hushabye, my dear”
So it’s cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale.
Spanish Ladies
Traditional – Lyrics from Shanties from the Seven Seas, by Stan Hugill
Farewell an’ adieu to you fair Spanish ladies,
Farewell an’ adieu to you ladies of Spain,
For we’ve received orders for to sail for old England,
An’ hope very shortly to see you again.
We’ll rant an’ we’ll roar, like true British sailors,
We’ll rant an’ we’ll rave across the salt seas,
‘Till we strike soundings in the Channel of Old England,
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-four leagues.
We hove our ship to, with the wind at sou’west, boys,
We hove our ship to for to take soundings clear.
In fifty-five fathoms with a fine sandy bottom,
We filled our maintops’l, up Channel did steer.
The first land we made was a point called the Deadman,
Next Ramshead off Plymouth, Start, Portland, and Wight.
We sailed then by Beachie, by Fairlee and Dungeyness,
Then bore straight away for the South Foreland Light.
Now the signal was made for the Grand Fleet to anchor,
We clewed up our tops’ls, stuck out tacks and sheets.
We stood by our stoppers, we brailed in our spankers,
And anchored ahead of the noblest of fleets.
Let every man here drink up his full bumper,
Let every man here drink up his full bowl,
And let us be jolly and drown melancholy,
Drink a health to each jovial an’ true-hearted soul.
Rolling down to Old Maui
It's a damn tough life full of toil and strife
We whalermen undergo
And we don't give a damn when the gale is done
How hard the winds do blow
We're homeward bound from the Arctic Sound
With a good ship taut and free
And we don't give a damn when we drink our rum
With the girls of Old Maui
Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic Ground
Rolling down to Old Maui
Once more we sail with a Northerly gale
Through the ice, and wind, and rain
Them coconut fronds, them tropical lands
We soon shall see again
Six hellish months we passed away
On the cold Kamchatka sea
But now we're bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui
Once more we sail the Northerly gale
Towards our Island home
Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done
And we ain't got far to roam
Our stans'l booms is carried away
What care we for that sound
A living gale after us
Thank God we're homeward bound
How soft the breeze through the island trees
Now the ice is far astern
Them native maids, them tropical glades
Is awaiting our return
Even now their big, brown eyes look out
Hoping some fine to see
Our baggy sails running 'fore the gales
We'll heave the lead where old Diamond Head
Looms up on old Wahu
Our masts and yards are sheathed with ice
And our desks are hid from view
The horrid ice of the sea-caked isles
That deck the Arctic sea
Are miles behind in the frozen wind
Since we steered for Old Maui
And now we're anchoured in the bay
With the Kanakas all around
With chants and soft aloha-oos
They greet us homeward bound
And now ashore we'll have good fun
We'll paint them beaches red
Awakening in the arms of an island maid
With a big fat aching head
Blood Red Roses
My clothes are all in pawn
Go down you blood red roses, go down
And it’s mighty draughty around Cape Horn
Go down you blood red roses, go down
Oh, you pinks and posies
Go down you blood red roses, go down
It’s round Cape Horn we’ve got to go
Chasing whales through ice and snow
Oh my old mother she wrote to me
My darling son come home from sea
Oh it’s one more pull and that will do
For we’re the bullies to kick her through
Fiddlers Green
I walked by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt water and take the sea air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Won’t you take ma away boys me time is not long
Wrap me up in me oil-skin and jumper
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you some day in Fiddler’s Green
Now Fiddler’s Green is a place I heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don’t go to hell
Where skies are all clear and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away
Wrap me up in me oil-skin and jumper
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you some day in Fiddler’s Green
When you get on the docks and the long trip is through
Ther’s pubs and ther’s clubs and ther’s lassies there too
When the girls are all pretty and the beer it is free
And ther’s bottles of rum growing from every tree
Wrap me up in me oil-skin and jumper
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you some day in Fiddler’s Green
Now, I don’t want a harp nor a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
I’ll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along
With the wind in the rigging to sing me a song
Wrap me up in me oil-skin and jumper
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you some day in Fiddler’s Green
Haul Away Joe
Naow whin Oi wuz a little boy an’ so me mother told me,
‘Way haul away, we’ll haul away Joe!
That if Oi didn’t kiss the gals me lips would all grow mouldy.
‘Way haul away, we’ll haul away Joe!
An’ Oi sailed the seas for many a year not knowin’ what Oi wuz missin’,
Then Oi sets me sails afore the gales an’ started in a-kissin’.
Oi got meself an Oirish gal an’ her name wuz Flannigan,
She stole me boots, she stole me clothes, she pinched me plate an’ pannikin.
Oi courted then a Frenchie gal, she took things free an’ aisy,
But naow Oi’ve got an English gal an’ sure she is a daisy.
Oh, King Louis wuz the King o’ France, afore the revolution,
But the people cut his big head orf an’ spoiled his constitution.
Oh, once Oi wuz in Oireland a-diggin’ turf an’ taties,
But naow Oi’m on a Limejuice ship an’ a-haulin’ on the braces.
Saint Patrick wuz a gintleman, an’ he come of daycent paypul,
He built a church in Dublin town an’ on it set a staypul.
From Oireland thin he druv the snakes, then drank up all the whisky,
This made him dance an’ sing an’ jig, he felt so fine an’ frisky.
Yiz call yerself a second mate an’ cannot tie a bowline,
Ye cannot even stand up straight when the packet she’s a-rollin’.
Another good website with lyrics is:
Here’s their version of Haul Away Joe, which sings quite well.
Haul Away Joe - Andrew Draskoy's version
Louis was the king of France
Before the revolut-i-on
Away, haul away, we'll haul away Joe
But then he got his head chopped off
Which spoiled his con-sti-tu-ti-on
Away, haul away, we'll haul away Joe
(To me) way, haul away
We'll heave and hang together
Away, haul away, we'll haul away Joe
Once I was in Ireland
Digging turf and pratties
And now I'm on a Yankee ship
Hauling on sheets and braces
Now when I was a little boy
And so me mother told me
That if I didn't kiss the girls
Me lips would all grow moldy
Way haul away
We'll haul away the bowline
Way, haul away
The packet is a-rollin'