Right, Joe, that is Crowley's website. The other link was supposed to have all the lyrics.
Well, I gave the song another close listen and filled in some of my blanks. Here's what I have:
THE WILD CARIBEE Written by Jerry O'Neill Jimmy Crowley, The Coast of Malabar
I will tell ye a tale of the Tropical Sea Where the dolphins dance tangos and the mermaids striptease Of notorious night spots and far ports of call Where we blew all our wages and drank till we fall
There's a club in [ ] called the Barbary Shore [And the old Cellar Bar] in downtown Singapore But the mightiest spot everyone must agree Was the Port of [St. Anne?] in the Wild Caribee
Hey-ho, hey-hee, hey-ho, hey-hee The Port of [Santan] in the Wild Caribee
Where we danced on the barstools and slept on the floor Drank rum by the gallon, told lies by the score Where we'd gambled and lied and sometimes we would fight [ ] halfway through the night
[ ] at the head of a pin And fell in love as quickly as we'd fall out again We all graduated in philosophy but attended night classes In the Wild Caribee
Hey ho, hey hee, hey ho, hey hee Attended night classes in the Wild Caribee
There are beautiful girls in [ ] And some men [ ] in the town of Paree But there's none to compare from [Banteer] to Bali [ ] of the Wild Caribee
You'll find the best of good porter down at the [ ] quay For the best of poteen you must go to [Coolay] But for best of good rum you must sail o'er the sea To the port of [Santan] and the Wild Caribee
Hey-ho, hey-hee, hey-ho, hey-hee The Port of [Santan] in the Wild Caribee
There were black men and white men and all shades in between There were rascals in dreadlocks died orange and green There were stetsons and turbins and [ ] For the real fashion consious 'twas the place to be seen
There you'll hear [taki-taki] and poetic [patoi] Some cleric in Latin, some southern [choctaw] 'Twas a chorus of Babel in sweet harmony That united nations the, Wild Caribee
Hey-ho, hey-hee, hey-ho, hey-hee That united nations the, Wild Caribee
I remember the last time we sailed from that place [……………………………] We hoist up the gangway and hung up the chain But never would set eyes on [Santan] again
For the hurricane like a cancer was born From a harmless red squall comes a tropical storm It gathers its fury from the heat of the sun And hurtles to landward like a shot from a gun
Hey-ho, hey-hee, hey-ho, hey-hee The Port of [Santan] in the Wild Caribee
The hurricane struck the town of [St. Anne?] And rained down destruction on the proud works of man It washed half the town away into the sea And left not a trace of the Wild Caribee
We'll go sailing no more in those Tropical Seas [ ] where the mermaids striptease But we'll always remember with a sad reverie All the wild times we had in the Wild Caribee
Hey-ho, hey-hee, hey-ho, hey-hee No trace of that landmark, the Wild Caribee
Notes from the album: This song reminded me of what the uncensored version of Treasure Island might be like when I first heard it sung in Cork city by its author, former ship's wireless operator, Jerry O'Neill. I was immediately captivated by the far-away, romantic elements and in no small way by Jerry's delivery of the song.