In Response to Linns request from Tom Hall here is the version of "Channels" as I finilised it.

"Channels"*
Words M Patterson/Tune Linda Kelly

The wind is from the South-West, boys, blows maybe 5 or 6
And the waves are sliding smoothly as they run
And under all plain sail we're making 8 good knots
As we make our way up Channel in the sun
It is cold early December and we're finally going home
Back to where the water is not blue but green
And the leaves have changed from orange and fallen from the trees
And I hope once more in my own bed to dream

It's a week short of a twelvemonth since we went upon our way
Down the Channel, outward bound for foreign shores
Into seas as warm as blood and black velvet starlit nights
And the scurvy, rats and damned salt-water sores
We have been down to Australia, and Vallipo around the Horn
And from there to Foochow for a load of tea
And now we're bound up Channel and our voyage nearly done
London River's open wide to welcome me

We Square up at the Lizard then a little East North East
Until Portland comes up on the Port hand side
Then we haul her a little closer for St Catherines, Beachy Head
Then its sharp port through the Downs to catch the tide
We're at Southend, we're at Gravesend then we're entering Long Reach
Then off Stone House Point the tide turns and things slow
Then just as we pass Greenwich a little donkey tug
Drops a line to us and takes us all in tow

So we bunt and Furl up nicely and we make a harbour stow
Sharpline everything to show them what were worth
Then the Mate yells from the wheelhouse "stand by Fore and aft"
As we're gently eased at last into our berth
Then its at the Pay off table with your discharge book to stamp
And your Grip and Duffle bag in your right hand
And your oilies in a bundle tied in gantline that was spare
Then you once again step carefully onto land

Home to England, wives and Children, that are changed before our eyes
And your home changed as well and not the same
some places that are missing and some faces dead and gone
your a stranger and your kids don't know your name
for time has marched onwards while we sailed so far away
In our time spent in wood prison, but you see
For a week or three we settle then our salty mistress calls
we all will sign on again and back to sea
© M. Patterson Dec 2005


*"Channels" is the British Merchant Navy expression for "Cabin Fever" that restlessness when you are nearly home and just want it to be all over. So called because it starts usually as the English Channel is approached at the end of voyage.