'Twas in January, the year of '42 and we had just left the Gulf and had set our course for Liverpool when we encountered one o' them there sudden squalls. The mate yells out above the screeching wind, "All hands aloft and get them sails reefed. Last man on the rigging gets my rope end!'

Suddenly up steps Harry the Historian. "Hang on, chaps, before you go up there I need to tell you how those chanties came about you're a-going to sing out!"

Splash!