In Capt. J. H. B. Robinson's account of his four years on a whale ship (1876-1880) in the Philadelphia Inquirer (May 29, 1892), he includes the following, which he used to sing at gams:

Come all ye bold sailors
Who sail 'round Cape Horn,
Come all ye bold whalers
Who cruise 'round for sperm,
The captain has told us,
An' I hope 'twill prove true
That there's plenty of sperm whales
Off the coast of Peru.

The first whale we saw
Near the close of the day,
Our Captain came on deck
And thus he did say:
"Now, all my good sailors,
Pray be of good glee,
For we'll see him in the mornin',
P'r'aps under our lee."

It was early next morning
Just as the sun rose,
The man at the masthead
Cried out "'Ere she blows!"
"Where away?" cried our Captain?,
As he sprang up aloft.
"Three points off our lee bow
And scarce two miles off."

"Now brace up your yards, boys,
We'll fasten a-near.
Get your lines in your boats, boys,
See your box lines all clear.
Haul aback the mainyard, boys,
Stand by, each boat's crew,
Lower away, lower away,
My brave fellows, do.

Now bend to your oars, boys,
Just make the boat fly,
But whatever you do, boys,
Keep clear of his eye."
The first mate soon struck,
And the whale he went down,
While the old man pulled up
And "stood by" to "bend on."

But the whale soon arose,
To the windward he lay.
We hauled up 'longside,
And he showed us fair play.
We caused him to vomit,
Thick blood for to spout,
And in less than ten minutes
We rolled him "fin up." [sic]

We towed him alongside,
With many a shout
That day cut him in,
And began to boil out.
Oh, now he's all boiled out
And stowed down below.
We're waiting to hear 'em
Sing out "'Ere she blows!"