OFF TO SEA ONCE MORE (2)
Version from Ted Howard; A. L. Lloyd 1950

When first I landed in Liverpool, I went upon the spree.
While money lasts, I spend it fast; got drunk as drunk could be.
But before my money was all gone on liquor and the whores,
I made up my mind that I was inclined to go to sea no more.
No more, no more, to go to sea no more,
I made up my mind that I was inclined to go to sea no more.

As I was walking down the street, I met with Angeline.
She said, "Come home with me, my lad, and we'll have a cracking time."
But when I awoke, it was no joke; I found I was all alone.
My silver watch, and my money too, and my whole bloody gear was gone.
Was gone, was gone, my whole bloody gear was gone.
When I awoke, it was no joke, for my whole bloody gear was gone.

As I was walking down the street, I met with Rapper Brown.
I asked him if he would take me in and he looked at me with a frown.
He said, "Last time you was paid off with me, you chalked-up no score,
But I'll take your advance and I'll give youse a chance to go to sea once more.
Once more, once more, to go to sea once more.
I'll take your advance and I'll give youse a chance to go to sea once more."

He shipped me aboard of a whaling ship bound for the Arctic seas,
Where cold winds blow and there's frost and snow and Jamaica rum would freeze,
And worse to bear, I'd no hard-weather gear, for I'd lost all my dunnage ashore.
It was then that I wished that I was dead so I'd go to sea no more.
No more, no more, I'd go to sea no more,
It was then that I wished that I was dead so I'd go to sea no more.

Sometimes we're catching whales, my lads, but mostly we get none,
With a twenty-foot oar in every paw from five o'clock in the morn,
And when daylight's gone and the night coming on, you rest upon your oar,
And, oh, boys, you wish that you was dead or snug with the girls ashore.
Ashore, ashore, snug with the girls ashore.
Oh, boys, you wish that you was dead or snug with the girls ashore.

Come all you seafaring lads and listen to my song.
When you go a-big-boating, boys, I'll have you not go wrong.
You take my tip when you come off a trip. Don't go with any whore,
But get married instead and have all night in bed and go to sea no more.

With score, 3/4, and French translation. P. 60-61, 1995, Le Chasse-Marée, "Cahiers de chants de marins."
(Available from Amazon.ca)

Not too different from the MacColl-Seeger text posted above but 'Giok,' but worth comparing with it.

The Chasse-Marée books are profusely illustrated with old photographs and drawings, large size with excellent print-work. They have produced many CDs of chanteys and marine songs.