I grew up on the Great Lakes, so this song brings back lots of memories. My Uncle Louie used to work as an engineer on the "lakers," the steam-powered ore boats. He'd get on at one port, fix the engines and boilers, and get off at another port and take the train or bus home to Detroit. I used to love watching the ships on Lake Michigan - we could sometimes see them out our front window. It was a special treat to spend time on the Detroit River, where there was a constant parade of the big boats.
I made a lighthouse tour of the Great Lakes in 1998, circling Erie, St. Clair, and Huron, and touching the other three Lakes. It was a thrill to finally cross the Straits of Mackinac. I remember when that bridge opened in the 1950's, but I didn't see it until 1998. I also got to see the big ore boats go through the Soo Locks at Sault Ste. Marie, something I'd wanted to see since I was a little kid.
This song brings all those wonderful sights to life. On my 1998 tour, I visited almost all of the places and lighthouses mentioned in the song.
Here's the version from Windjammers: Songs of the Great Sailors (Ivan Walton & Joe Grimm). It's the most complete version of the song that I've found.

-Joe Offer-

The Timber Drougher Bigler

Come all you jolly sailors and listen to my song,
It's but a few short verses and will not detain you long.
In Milwaukee in October I chanced to get a site
In the timber drogher Bigler a'hailing from Detroit.

CHORUS
Watch her! Catch her! Jump up on her juberju,
Give 'er the sheet and let 'er howl, we're the boys to put 'er through,
You should've seen 'er howling, the wind a'blowin' free,
On our passage down to Buffalo from Milwaukee.

It was on a Sunday morning, about the hour of ten,
The Robert Emmet towed us out into Lake Michigan.
We set sail where she left us, in the middle of the fleet,
The wind was from the south'rd, an' we had to give er sheet.

The wind chopped 'round to sou'-sou'-west, an' blew both fresh and strong,
And plowing through Lake Michigan the Bigler she rolled on.
And far before her foaming bow the silver spray did fling,
With every inch of canvas set, her course was "wing and wing."

The wind it hauled ahead, my boys, as we reached the Manitous;
Two dollars and a half a day just suited the Bigler's crew.
From here unto the Beavers, we steered her full 'n' by;
An' we laid 'er to the wind as close as she would lie.

We made Skillagalee and Wobble Shanks, the entrance to the Straits,
And might have passed the fleet, had they hove to and wait,
But we drove 'em all before us the prettiest you ever saw
Clear out into Lake Huron through the Straits of Mackinac.

We made the light at False Presque Isle, and then we boomed away;
Courses and tops'ls straining for the isle of Thunder Bay.
The wind it hauled 'round, we laid on 'er starb'rd tack,
With a good lookout ahead, m' boys, for the light of Point Aback.

We made the light and kept in sight of Michigan's east shore,
A'booming for the river as we'd often done before.
But where's the schooner fleet we raced all through the night?
Can that be sails ahead, just glimmering in sight?

We plowed on down Lake Huron, the wind was steady and fast,
Port Sanilac's off to starb'rd, the river's ahead at last.
And when off Gratiot Light our anchor we let go,
Till the Sweepstakes hove in sight, and took the Bigler in tow.

The Sweepstakes towed eight schooners, an' all of us fore 'n' aft,
She towed us down the St. Clair and stuck us on the Flats.
She parted the Hunter's towline in trying to give relief,
An' the Bigler smashed head-on into the yawl of the Maple Leaf

She towed us down and left us outside the river light,
Lake Erie for to wander and the blusterin' winds to fight.
The wind being fresh and fair, we paddled our own canoe,
Her nose points o'er the dummy, we're hell-bent for Buffalo.

We made the "Eau," flew by Long Point, the wind was a'blowin' free;
We howled along the Canada shore, Port Colborne on our lee.
What light is that ahead that grows as we draw near?
It's like a blazing star, it's the light on Buffalo pier.

An' now, my bully lads, we're in Buffalo port at last,
Under Rood and Smith's Elevator, the Bigler she's made fast.
An' in Tommy Doyle's saloon we'll let the bottle pass,
For we are jolly shipmates, and we'll drink a social glass.

An' now my song is ended, I hope it pleases you:
Let's drink a health to the Bigler, her officers and crew.
I hope she sails for many a fall in command of Cal McKee,
Between the ports of Buffalo and Mil-wau-kee.

As sung by Carl Joys of Milwaukee, 1932
Authorship most frequently is credited to “Billy Clark of Buffalo.” However, John W. Green insisted that his uncle and fellow Beaver Islander, Peter O’Donnell, composed it and many other songs as well.

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The tune is very similar to the one in Rickaby.

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