The Truelove adapted by Steve Gardham
The Truelove she is rigged, me boys, for Greenland she is bound,
Where the icy mountains crush the boats, the weary whaling ground,
Where the sun it never sets, me boys, nor darkness dims the skies,
Where the whalefish blow midst ice and snow, and this it is our prize.
Chorus: So look cheerful, me boys, let your hearts never fail.
For the bonny ship the Truelove goes a-fishing for the whale.
Captain Wells he gives the orders, ‘Each seaman look alive!’
So we bid farewell to sweethearts, some unto their wives.
“Hoist the topsails up, me boys, down the Humber we will steer,
To the frozen icefields of the north where the right whale do appear.”
And now we see the icefields, to the Davis Straits we’ve come,
Let every man take up his can and sup a tot of rum.
The look-out up aloft, me boys, he cries out, “There she blows!”
So we lower down our whaleboats and after her we goes.
“Pull, pull, me hearty lads, she’s breaching just ahead,
Harpooner to your station, with neither fear nor dread.”
The whale is struck and dives, how far the devil knows,
And the line pays out like lightning as she to the bottom goes.
And soon the whale is fast, me boys, and flincing can begin,
Great lengths of blubber stripping off from just beneath the skin.
Then making off the blubber, into barrels then we store,
And when all’s safely in the hold we’ll go and look for more.
And now the hold is full, me boys, we can’t take any more,
We’ll hoist the topsail up, me boys, and head for the Humber shore.
We’ll drink a health to the Truelove and other whalers too,
Success to Captain William Wells and all our jovial crew.