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Ye fishermen free that go forth on the sea,
With engines of various makes;
This old jump-spark of mine I will take every time,
You can keep all your new makes-and-breaks.
She was easy on fuel but she kicked like a mule,
And the screws on the bedding were slack;
And we all swore that she'd rise from the floor,
And we feared that she'd never came back.
One evening last fall we went out to our trawl,
It looked like 'twas going to blow;
We turned to go in in the teeth of the wind,
With a three-handed dory in tow.
Tom hove up the wheel and he cursed a great deal,
He cranked till he found of his heart;
He tested the oil and examined the coil,
But the devil of it would she start.
'Twas coming on night, with the seas feather white,
When up to us rowed a small skiff;
And a bedlamer boy with a cast in his eye,
Kindly offered to give us a lift.
The kid stepped on board with the air of a lord,
His movements unhurried and slow;
He noted the string and the window blind spring,
But he got the old Coaker to go.
Go, go, he makes that thing go,
How he does it I'm sure I don't know;
We can race with the Clyde and keep her alongside,
When he coaxes that Coaker to go.
So we shipped on the kid, and I'm sure glad we did,
Now it's seldom we ask for a tow;
He gets a full share which I think only fair,
For coaxing the Coaker to go.
Go, go, he makes that thing go,
How he does it I'm sure I don't know;
We can race with the Clyde and keep her alongside,
When he coaxes that Coaker to go.
