Notes: Britisher Cicely Fox Smith was based in Victoria, British Columbia, for much of the time that she was on the West Coast of Canada, roughly 1904 to 1913. She described in vivid detail walking the docks, watching the sunsets, admiring the ships, listening to the yarns of ship-keepers and other sailors, and nosing around the waterfront. She also evidently spent some time in neighboring Richmond at the Steveston Mill, now the location of the Brittania Heritage Shipyard, watching the crews load lumber aboard the ships at the dock.
If I'd got to choose alone One of all the freights I've known – All my cargoes live and dead, Bacon pigs and pigs of lead, Cattle, copra, rice and rails, Pilgrims, coolies, nitrates, nails, Lima beans and China teas – What do you think my pick would be?
If I'd got to name the best – Take just one and leave the rest Out of all the ports I've known – Coral beaches white as bone, All the hot lands and the cold, Nights of stars and moons like gold, Tropic smells and Spanish wine, Whispering palm and singing pine, All the isles of all the sea – Where do you think I'd want to be?
Loading lumber long ago In a ship I used to know, With the bow-ports open wide In her stained and rusted side, And the saws a-screaming shrill At the Steveston lumber-mill; Where the Fraser floods and flows Green and cold with melting snows, And the tow-boats' wailing din, As the booms come crawling in, Fills the echoing creeks with sound, And there's sawdust all around, Deep and soft like drifted snow; Nowhere much a man can go, Nothing much to see or do, Mouldiest burg you ever knew…
But I'd give the years between – All I've done and all I've seen, All the fooling and the fun, All the chances lost and won, All the good times and the bad, All the memories sweet and sad, Far and near, by shore and sea, I would give them all to be Loading lumber years ago With the lads I used to know – Loading lumber all day long Stacks of scented deals among – Loading lumber at the mill Till the screaming saws were still, And the rose-red sunset died From the mountains and the tide, And the night brought out its stars, And the wind's song in the spars Of that ship I used to know – Loading lumber, long ago.
Now in adapting this poem for singing it seemed to me that the first verse fit well to a traditional Irish tune. However, some of the other verses had extra lines. So I brutally cut them out. I also dropped out the entire 2nd verse which is nice in itself but not necessary for this song, which is already long. But feel free to sing the whole thing as originally composed!
If I'd got to choose alone One of all the freights I've known – All my cargoes live and dead, Bacon pigs and pigs of lead, Cattle, copra, rice and rails, Pilgrims, coolies, nitrates, nails, Lima beans and China teas – What do you think my pick would be?
Loading lumber long ago In a ship I used to know, With the bow-ports open wide In her stained and rusted side, And the saws a-screaming shrill At the Steveston lumber-mill; Where the Fraser floods and flows Green and cold with melting snows.
And the tow-boats' wailing din, As the booms come crawling in, Fills the echoing creeks with sound, And there's sawdust all around, Deep and soft like drifted snow; Nowhere much a man can go, Nothing much to see or do, Mouldiest burg you ever knew.
But I'd give the years between – All I've done and all I've seen, All the fooling and the fun, All the chances lost and won, Far and near, by shore and sea, I would give them all to be – Loading lumber long ago With the lads I used to know.
Loading lumber at the mill Till the screaming saws were still, And the rose-red sunset died From the mountains and the tide, And the night brought out its stars, And the wind's song in the spars Of that ship I used to know – Loading lumber, long ago.
I'm planning to nose around the Vancouver area myself, come this August. I'll see if I can find any clues to C. Fox Smith's residence there.
I understand there is also a Thursday Shanty Sing at the Murakami Boathouse in the Brittania Heritage Shipyard in Richmond; be nice to sing this song there.