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Attention all ye countrymen, and listen to my song,
I hope ye'll pay attention, I'll not delay you long;
I hope ye'll pay attention to what I got to say,
'Bout a loss we had to suffer from a dreadful north east gale.
'Twas on October the twenty-sixth, the day before the gale —
When we were still a-fishing, our courage didn't fail.
The bait being very plentiful, and the weather acting fine
And for to have another set we all felt well inclined.
We took our seine in dory for to have a row along;
We rowed around the island and plenty of herring found.
We payed away our seine, my boys, those scaly fish did get —
But the loss we came to after, I never will forget.
'Twas early next morning those three boats left the bar —
They're bound out for Oderin's Bank, the distance wasn't far;
The gale sprang up tremendously, they were forced to set inside
And in under close-reefed canvas to the harbour we arrived.
The first come in was Hobans, their hawser it was low —
They says, 'We'll anchor on the bar for in she cannot go.'
The next come in was Robert Deer, he wasn't far behind;
He anchored just astern of us and put ashore a line.
The next come in was Peavy, all in the smallest boat —
He anchored just astern of him and put ashore a rope;
Said one unto the other: 'I think it's to its side,
If it don't blow any harder they'll be all right here tonight.'
At ten o'clock that very night it blew a hurricane —
At daybreak in the morning, not one was to be seen;
They must have swept their anchor, the truth to you I'll tell,
God only knows where these boats are, not one of us can tell.
At ten o'clock that very day the wind it did die down —
The Minnie she was sighted and high and dry aground;
On Woody Island's western point it caused her bones to crack,
She was scrubbed and tore to pieces and she there became a wreck.
The owners of the other two they still got no report —
Some thinks they're on the bottom, but they could be still afloat;
The very next news that reached our ears gave us a dreadful shock,
The Lilly and Jim was sighted, sunk at the harbour rock.
We then made haste and went to her expecting her to sail —
But still she is a total loss and met a watery grave;
We saved her spars and bowsprit, but nothing more could do,
By the help of those Oderin men and Little Harbour, too.
In turning from that dreadful wreck a message we did hear —
The other boat she was picked up and towed in at St. Pierre;
Her owners are the Hoban boys and the Mayflower is her name,
Through French and English councillors we'll get our boat again.
We hastened to the office a message for to send —
To see how much 'twould cost us to get her from French hands;
The message then that we received, and we were glad to hear,
The Argyle or the Daisy would take us to St. Pierre.
But we received another since the government proved false —
The Argyle or the Daisy don't come to our sad loss.
But still there is another chance that we can get along:
Our loyal friend is Henry Lake, I'll have him in the song.
O now we're ready for to start to sail unto St. Pierre —
Our whole intention is the boat and to try to get our gear;
But when we reached St. Peter the French to us did say:
'There's one hundred and fifty dollars, boys, before she leaves the quay.'
Besides our boat she had been robbed of caplin, dory, too —
They also tried to sink her when on the sea so blue;
The chops they made with a fatal axe, I'll show you any time,
She have it on her starboard side right at the water line.
O now we leaved that funny place, St. Pierre, a long ways behind —
Bound to a port of entry with everything going fine;
When we gets through the Customs it's straight for home we'll go,
And we'll lower her in the harbour where northeasters they can't blow.
When we gets in the harbour we'll drink our drop of rum —
For Christmas it is handy, and I'm sure we'll have some fun.
We'll soon forget the hardships that we did undergo
When sailing for the Mayflower in bitter frost and snow.
O now my song is to an end and don't you think it's true —
But if you thinks I'm telling you lies you ask some of the crew.
I think I done my very best, I know it can be beat
For it concerns that northeast gale, October the twenty-eighth.
Genevieve Lehr noted that Mr. Power learned this very long and involved song from his uncle, John Power, who learned it from the composer Bill Hoban who was one of the owners of the Mayflower back in the 1920s. Ms. Lehr also noted that the last word in verse seven, 'wreck', was pronounced 'wrack' to rhyme with 'crack' in the previous sentence.
