Well, now that I've dried off, and Mario has kicked off the song circle, I'll take my guitar and offer another.

THE WHALE CATCHERS

On the twenty-third of March, my boys
We hoisted our topsail,

Crying, "Heav'n above protect us

With a sweet and a pleasant gale."

We never was down-hearted

Nor let our courage fail

But bore away up to Greenland

For to catch the Greenland whale,

For to catch the Greenland whale.

And when we came to Greenland

Where the bitter winds did blow,

We tacked about all in the north

Among the frost and snow.

Our finger-tops were frozen off,

And likewise our toe-nails,

As we crawled on the deck, my boys,

Looking out for the Greenland whale

Looking out for the Greenland whale.

And when we came to Davis Strait

Where the mountains flowed with snow,

We tacked about all in the north

Till we heard the whalefish blow.

And when we catch that whale, brave boys,

Homeward we will steer.

We'll make them valleys ring, my boys,

A-drinking of strong beer.

We'll make them lofty alehouses

In London town to roar;

And when our money is all gone,

To Greenland go for more,

To Greenland go for more.