THE ARCTIC GROUNDS
Ron Baxter
Tune: Traditional

She drove her bows feet under, saw her take it green;
Staggered, as that old "grey-beard" smashed through the wheel-house screen;
The helmsman knocked down to the ground, the wheel went spinning round -
We were lying on our beam-ends, out in the Arctic ground.

Chorus:-
        In that hellish Arctic ground, you freeze before you drown;
        No, my boy, don't ever go to the hellish Arctic ground.

Clawed her way back up again, flooded down below;
Half her gear lost overboard, wondered when she'd go.
Her bows they swung up to the moon - God, just feel her pound,
Swore that she would break in two, sink in the Arctic ground.

Her mast made circles round the stars, all covered with the spray;
If there is a God above, "Save us now!" we pray!
The wind has gone clean off the scale, roaring like a hound;
Saw the mizzen torn away, lost in the Arctic ground.

Home at last in Fleetwood town, landed in the dock;
Saw the owner come on board, he asked what fish we'd got.
Lord, you should have seen his face fall when it was found
That we had caught just nought at all, from the freezing Arctic ground.

Sung by Dick Gillingham and Ged Higson.

Fleetwood skippers fished many grounds all across the North Atlantic, from the Grand Banks of Newfoundland, all round the coast of Iceland, up the Norwegian coast and right into the White Sea north of Russia.