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Some folks say cheerio when they wave the hand to you,
The English say goodbye, the French they say adieu;
But when Newfoundlanders part, this wish leaps from the heart:
Long may your big jib draw!
It means may luck attend you, may a fair wind fill your sails,
May your ship keep to her course with ever favouring gales,
It reminds us of our heritage of sea and sailing men,
And we'd like all hands to try it when they say goodbye again.
You may lack a captain's ticket, you may not know stem from stern,
P'raps you can't box the compass, and perhaps you'll never learn,
But try it for a spell, the way we say farewell:
Long may your big jib draw!
It's a wish from sailing days when head winds meant delays,
And the stately old square-riggers glided graceful on their ways,
The crew would hear the shout as the canvas bellied out:
Long may your big jib draw!
We who call the ocean mother often wander from her side,
But she claims her children's homage, and she will not be denied;
So we pay that timeless fee in the language of the sea,
With long may your big jib draw!
Ships may not stay in harbour, there's another voyage ahead,
Friends may not always linger, there are goodbyes to be said;
But make the parting gay, speed your friend upon his way,
With long may your big jib draw!
Sometimes your vessel is becalmed for days and weeks on end,
Sometimes the winds of life will blow you off your course, my friend,
But the wind is sure to veer, you must stay on board and steer,
And long, long, long may your big jib draw!
