Hey Charley, Martin took apart "Stormy Weather" and put it back together again, he is from Southend and sailed the area in his childhood / youth he he recognised it as a geographically disjointed narrative of a trip from Surrey docks, Greenwich to Yarmouth on a Thames sailing barge, he even wonders what is going on because they usually had a crew of two, a skipper and a boy so quite where the cook comes in? Anyway, he put it together to be geographically correct

STORMY WEATHER, BOYS

We were laying in Surrey Dock one day.
The mate knew that it was time to get under way.

cho: Stormy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys,
When the wind blows our barge will go.

He's homeward bound but he's out of luck
'Cause the skipper's half drunk in the Dog and Duck

Then the skipper came aboard with the girl on his arm
He's going to give up barging and take a farm.

So the mate ran forrard and the cook fell in the dock
And the skipper caught his knackers in the mainsheet block

The mate's at the wheel and he gybed her twice
'Cause the skipper's got his knackers in a bowl of ice

At last we're off down Limehouse Reach,
When our leeboards knocked on Greenwich Beach

The barge went ashore and scared our whore.
She said:"Chuck this, I'm off ashore."

We shoved her off and away we go,
But the skipper's got a barrel of beer below.

She fills away and she sails like heck
But there ain't no bargemen up on deck.

There's a crash and a bump and she's ashore
The mate says: "Christ, we're on the Nore."

The skipper says: "I think we're on the Whittaker Spit"
Then up comes a mermaid covered in slime

Then up comes another one covered in Muck
So we took her down below and had good time.

On the top of the tide the barge did fleet,
When the mate sees a ghost on the tops'l sheet

So away we go and the ghost did steer,
And the cook drank the dregs of the old man's beer.

We laid close-hauled round Orford Ness,
When the wind backed round to the south sou'west

We reached our port all safe and sound
And tied her up in Yarmouth Town.

So after all our fears and alarms
We all ended up in the Druid's Arms.

from the Oxford Book of Sea Songs, Palmer