Most sad was my misfortune in the year of sixty-three When I shipped on board the fishing there, caught on a drunken spree I shipped on board the "Eastern Light" as you might understand For to go out on the salty sea to the Banks of Newfoundland
Mike Cloure being our skipper's name, a hero stout and bold We had twelve other souls on board besides myself all told We hoist up all our canvas when left Gloucester port And the girls they wove their handkerchiefs as we sailed out of port
We brought a jar of rum on board which mustered all our crew We drank a health to the Gloucester girls in bidding them adieu 'Twas east-be-south we steered, me b'ys, the Grand Banks for to find We being employed that our fishing gear some halibut to destroy
We ranged around those foggy banks for the space of eighteen days We boarded a couple of Frenchmen but no brandy could we raise My curse on rum, and brandy too, as I oftimes said before Sure, I might have lived the sober life, I might be still on shore
It's early every morning our cooks all up and bawls Get up and eat your breakfast, b'ys, and then go haul your trawls We scarce get time to light our pipes when our dories go We've got to make three sets a day, let the wind blow high or low
And if you lose a mooring, a buoy-line, or a knife Indeed you will be charged with it and you might bet your life Andif you come to stand night watch be sure and stand a bet And if anything is missin' there you'll find it on your check
On the eighteenth of October I hear our captain shout Come hoist aboard your dories, b'ys, and break your anchors out Our provisions are getting kind of scarce, we can no longer stay So give her great big mainsail, b'ys, and get her underway.
Next day our anchor's on our bow, our ship is homeward bound And when we next reach Gloucester port, we'll hand the glasses round We'll go down to Johnny The Lover's and 'tis there we'll spend one night And we'll drink a health to the Gloucester girls, likewise to the "Eastern Light."
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