#02125
The Crew From Boston Bay (Kenneth Peacock)

It's of the fishing schooner Gin
that sailed the wintry seas,
The skipper has taken a crew of men
to trawl off Jefferey's;
So stout of heart, so strong of limb
was the crew he shipped that day,
And each one hailed, they did declare,
from good old Boston Bay.

The trips to the Banks were quickly made,
they all fell in a week,
Until the fog it settled down,
they could not see to speak;
Our captain he lost his reckoning,
what he never had done before,
He smashed his compass in a rage
saying, "Let 'er drift ashore!"

The vessel drifted for two long days
with ever-increasing fog,
The men they feared for plenty of food,
they were starved for the want of grog;
Then old Bill Jones in the rigging stood
as he mournfully gazed away,
"What's the matter, Bill?" the skipper said,
and Bill these words did say:

"Oh, captain, I smell a familiar smell,
this time I can hear it plain,
It smells like a Boston Saturday night
out here on the raging main."
Our captain he took another sniff
and a smile on his face o'erspread,
"It is Boston, boys, I can smell the beans,
we are drifted home, he said."

We dropped our anchors then and there
and we swallowed the rest of our grog,
And we were guided along by the sinful smell
as we walked ashore on the fog.

####.... Author unknown. Traditional Newfoundland ballad ....####

Collected by Kenneth Peacock in 1960 from James Henry (Jim) Smurridge [1883-1961] of Burnt Islands, NL, and published in Songs Of The Newfoundland Outports, Volume 1, pp.110-111, by The National Museum Of Canada (1965) Crown Copyrights Reserved.


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