Now the lobsters would do well in a galvanized drum full of saltwater, laced with freshplucked seaweed, andbrought to a boil...mind they don't crawl out, there! Ahh, cold Reisling and a fat lobster claw. Who could ask for more?

(Sings, cheerily, waving his wineglass over the granite shore):

Hey ho! Roll and go!
Round Cape Horn to San Francisco
Shantyman sing, boys, pull on the line
And we're back in record time.

At Bath down in Maine they built many tall ships
They were faired up and planked then launched down the slips
The strength of our nation was built on the pine
Of the mast-trees that harnessed the wind.

(Plunks himself down, winded, on a handy boulder and stares out at the rippling tide and the freshening Atlantic breeze...)