1. |
Heave Ho
03:58
|
|||
Heave Ho
Our two-masted rigger she's ready to go, heave ho, bullies heave ho
Leaving St Johns for the Bank’s icy cold - heave ho, bullies heave ho
We’re bound for Pierre and a big load of rum - heave ho, bullies heave ho
To warm up the worst of the winter to come - heave ho, bullies heave ho
Then out from the Isle with a boatload of spuds
Spray from the Strait’s sure to wash off the mud
We’ve gathered the moss up the Rustico Shore
From Prince Edward Isle to far foreign ports (ch)
Heave ho, bullies heave ho
From towns up and down the Atlantic’s cold shores
Heave ho, bullies heave ho
Our Merchantman sits by a Halifax quay
With cargo to haul to the warm Caribbean
A hold full of herring and cod salted down
To trade for molasses, sugar and rum (ch)
Newcastle our decks are stacked high with the pine
From Northumberland’s woods come the timber so fine
And from Ritchie’s Wharf we are ready to sail
Bound for Southampton with goods for the trade
So the finest of sailors and fishers we be
From Atlantic Coast towns we all take to the sea (ch)
Words and Music David Stone
|
||||
2. |
Ghostly Grey
04:19
|
|||
Ghostly Grey
Who’s that coming with pistols gunning; what name bears he I say
What ship he sails - so silent running - on the waters of the Fundy Bay
Who is he this privateer - what game is his – this day?
What dirty business brings him here to the waters of the Fundy Bay?
Why Mogul MacKenzie is his name - all Union ships his game
The fiercest pirate be his claim on the waters of the Fundy Bay (ch)
Beware, beware the sailors swear; beware his Ghostly Grey
Mogul Mackenzie’s alive and well on the waters of the Fundy Bay
From Yarmouth town to Portland Maine in harbours he would lay
Til another Yankee dared to sail on the waters of the Fundy Bay
Through squall and storm and seas a raging his ship she’ll never fail
Uncivil war on all he's waging on the waters of the Fundy Bay (ch)
In 65 he disappeared - was lost the stories say
Sailors cheered – landsmen smiled - on the waters of the Fundy Bay
But his sleek grey ship, the Kanawha still plies the Basin’s waves
And fear again creeps o’er the tide on the waters of the Fundy Bay (ch)
Now tales of pirate's ghostly lore haunt every cove and quay
From Digby - down the Minas shore on the waters of the Fundy Bay
Did MacKenzie vanish in the mist - then return a Ghostly Grey
To reign supreme by fear and fist on the waters of the Fundy Bay (ch)
Words and Music David Stone
|
||||
3. |
If Not for the Whiskey
02:13
|
|||
If Not For the Whiskey
If not for the whiskey we'd all be insane
If not for the rum we would be in such pain
If not for the lagers and ales we'd be dry
If it wasn't for whiskey we'd surely all die
Well I've been a sailor for most of my life
I've neither a home nor a fine loving wife
I have so few friends upon whom I can call
But I always have liquor the best friend of all (ch)
I have been round the world on the dirty old ships
I've crawled to the bunk with the salt on my lips
Screamed to the heavens to take me away
Til that ladle of liquor came passing my way (ch)
When out on the ocean you're tossing about
The mind starts to drift to a tall glass of stout
As thick as molasses - and stronger than stink
Well a man could not dream up much finer a drink (ch)
Now some may sip brandy or expensive champagne
I tell you I'd rather flush those down the drain
For I fancy the lagers - the whiskey and rum
To wash the stale taste of that crap off my tongue (ch)
...If it wasn't for whiskey - we'd bloody well die...
|
||||
4. |
Cape Horn
05:42
|
|||
Cape Horn
He said San Francisco was where he should be
He’d just booked his passage on Grand Victory
What prospects remained for a middle-aged man
But a New England mill or farming hard land
Pressed as a sailor in Napoleon’s War
Reluctant at first but ten years he endured
Then fled for New Scotland and the promise of land
With a wife and two children a new life he began (ch)
Cape Horn, Cape Horn now everything must change
You’ve had to claim the ship on which my true love did sail
You’ve broken my poor heart and shattered all his dreams
On your unforgiving rocks and with cold and crashing seas - Cape Horn
Forever the dreamer; hell bent on success
Lured by the gold they’d found farther west
He read of John Sutter and the strike he had made
One chance - for his savings – he’d willingly trade
From Yarmouth departed with his sea rig and chest
On a schooner to Portland then Boston and west
To await the arrival of the Grand Victory
And seven hard months over uncertain seas (ch)
Finally in Boston there was word of delay
On another ship boarded and then quick under way
In search of a stake and the glint of the gold
Not some reckless youth but a fifty year old
The weather stayed quiet over one hundred days
When a sou’ wester hit as they drove for the Cape
Swells they heaved high and the sky she turned black
She foundered then fell as the waves broke her back (ch)
Now some seek adventure and some settle down
Some board on vessels and sail the world round
Throwing caution a far and risking it all
For the rush of the wind and taste of the salt
They say that the sea she’s a siren at best
Worst than the lure of the gold or the west
But the heart beats the strongest temptation for sure
And dares all the dreamers to challenge Cape Horn (ch)
|
||||
5. |
Traighli Bay
05:08
|
|||
Traighli Bay
It was June and it was hot, when on board the ship we got
With shot and powder for the guns and a hogshead full of rum
And salt cod to last until the winter squalls
We made for the southwest where the hunting would be best
Where the Spanish ships of trade down with Aztec silver laden
Were the fairest game for gentlemen of fortune (ch)
And with tar on our pigtails and blood on our rapiers
We'll fly the skull and crossbones and by God we'll take no prisoners
It's hi ho away boys, we'll sail from Traighli Bay boys
Hoist the Jolly Roger at the break of day
From up the crows nest then, called the third mate, Mr. Flynn
"Set the course and hold 'er steady and for action make 'er ready
There's a Spanish merchant off the starbord bow"
We raised the black flag high, fast the Spaniard turned to fly
We followed in her wake until we could overtake
And dismasted her with chain from cannon fired (ch)
We pulled up alongside with our grappling hooks and lines
Guns and cutlasses in hand on the gunwales we did stand
Every hand from the Captain to the cabin boy
Saw three dead the chains had flayed, then we raised and crossed our blades
To their mates we gave our best as the sun set in the west
With pikes and swords, pistols, fists and feet (ch)
From the darkness till the dawn as the battle raged on
We fought with manly fitness as we meant to leave no witness
We lost Mr. Flynn and one leg from the cabin boy
But with their treasure we retired and we set a canvas fire
Left her sinking to the deep where their silent bones will sleep
And we forged a leg of gold for the cabin boy (ch)
It was August and still warm when to Traighli we returned
Fifty-eight days on the main and we've no need to sail again
We've gold and silver more than we could spend
Now half a century has passed and of that crew I am the last
Fifty years I've roamed these docks and when I get a chance to talk
I tell of how I got this golden leg. (ch)
|
||||
6. |
Whiskey Johnny
02:20
|
|||
7. |
Famous Cap'n True
03:04
|
|||
Famous Cap’n True
Come listen to my shanty boys this tale I’ll tell to you
About an old time sailing man the famous Cap’n True
The “Scourge of all the Seven Seas” with the hardiest of crew
From Baltimore to Biscayne Bay the famous Cap’n True
Well he ran the roughest pirate ship from Portsmouth to Peru
The Rio back to Halifax the famous Cap’n True
Tobago to the Tasman Sea his reputation grew
Why Blackbeard hardly measured up to the Famous Cap’n True
On the Pirate Round he could be found
Every nook and crook he knew
New Brunswick clean to New South Wales
The Famous Cap’n True
Then out upon a country road when his pirate days were through
He built a little public house – the famous Cap’n True
The best of grog - a bed to rest - for the weary passing through
A bit of shelter from storms – the Inn of Cap’n True
Island rum and salty beef and bread would surely do
Rations like he served on-ship - the famous Cap’n True
Then afterwards around the hearth - tales they grew and grew
Stories of his glory days – the famous Cap’n True (ch)
He sang of ghostly sailing mates to scratchy fiddle tunes
Stumbling through a drunken jig – the famous Cap’n True
The clink of coins and ghastly cries rang out the whole night through
T’ was hard to grab your forty winks at the Inn of Cap’n True
Now many years have come and gone and this story hard to prove
For legends are all that remain of the famous Cap’n True
But from the bay to Fredericton where the coach road once cut thru
Still gang the Ghosts of the Fundy Coast at the Inn of Cap’n True (ch)
|
||||
8. |
John Harris
05:40
|
|||
John Harris
My name is John Harris, I am twenty one years old
I made my way to Halifax about three years ago
I left behind the old man and Dominion Comp’ny coal
A Sydney mine was not for me, so I took to the road
I found a job down on the docks and wharves of Halifax
A yardman in the employ of ‘Pickford and Black’
The finest of Ships’ Agents working in the ‘Indies Trade’
And everyday I watched those big steam packets roll away
And part of me will be on board each time one rolls away
Part of me it leaves this shore for some place far away
We load ‘em down with fish and deals goods of every kind
There with all the other men, I sure earn every dime
And then unload the treasures brought back from the Caribbean
Ah the finest of that island rum for a “Working Joe” like me (ch)
I know in time that I will find myself on board as well
Leave the land on deck to stand and ride the raging swell
I’ll welcome every sunrise and I’ll revel in the light
Silently to curse the dark that is my father’s life (ch)
And yes there’s danger on that sea, but little do I care
Safer working on this dock but my heart isn’t here
And if by wave or sudden gale I never make it home
See that more to be my fate then die in a black hole
And my name is John Harris and this morning sun is warm
Sparkles gold upon these waves that dance along the shore
Today I load a ‘Packet’ bound for Valparaiso Bay
Now my work waits and I am late - I must be on my way…
And part of me will be on board next time one rolls away
Part of me it leaves this shore for some place far away (x 2)
|
||||
9. |
Let Them Build Ships
02:49
|
|||
Let Them Build Ships
Oh let them build ships oh the finest of ships
From Miramichi to the North Fundy shore
With the tallest of trees by the edge of the sea
Black spruce and pines and hardwoods galore
Let them build ships, the old sailors did say
Let them build ships, on our rivers and bays
All sizes of vessels to work the salt seas
Made from the finest Maritime trees…
Oh let them build ships oh the finest of ships,
Oh let them build schooners and merchants, the lot;
With white canvas trimmed and filled to the brim
Fresh from the Banks with a big load of cod (ch)
Oh let them build ships oh the finest of ships,
Oh let them build brigs and barques by the score;
To fit them with guns and with shot by the ton,
To fight for the King in a far away war (ch)
Oh let them build ships oh the finest of ships
Just like their old masters by the Thames side
For west went their sons when their timber was done,
And work in the yards by the high Fundy tides (ch)
So let them build ships, the finest of ships,
Oh Riggers and Clippers and great Men o’ War
For transport and trade or for battles to wage
The best in the world from Maritime shores (ch x 2)
|
||||
10. |
Spouters
03:52
|
|||
Spouters
There’s a chill in the air but the crew doesn’t care
As we roll home to port from the far Maui shores
Been four hundred days since we first sailed the bay
To the warm Western Rim off a – whaling again
And the fog’s like a veil as we lower our sails
The tavern’s in sight we’ll be drinking tonight
We’ll toast a good haul with our holds full of oil
For its back to Saint John on James Stewart we land (ch)
You can have California and the gold of the west
Have South Australia where sailing’s the best
You can have your fine clippers your spices and tea
I’ll work the James Stewart and a Spouter I’ll be
Now some say we’re dirty – I say we’re as worthy
Of fortune and praise as others that sail
We work as hard as any and struggle like many
Who on fancy ships toil as we smother in oil (ch)
So look round the harbour where tarry lads labour
There are ships by the hundreds the wide world they’ve wondered
And white wigs all powdered on grey docks so crowded
Men telling stories of triumph and glory (ch)
They curse at us whalers but we’re still damn fine sailors
We toil off of Maui we fight and get rowdy
We drink hard and heavy with stories a bevy
So gang round the table while we’re upright and able (ch)
David Stone – Al Parrish
|
||||
11. |
Golden Dreams
05:46
|
|||
Golden Dreams
What thoughts have you of wild old Cape Horn?
Off shorn off masts and yards and canvas torn
Icy winds and frozen spray, Australia - many days away
Times on deck you’d wish you’d ne’er been born
You’d cling to the hope to see tomorrow morn
You signed aboard the ship in Saint John Town
A berth of Golden Dreams – Australia bound
Thirteen wretched weeks at sea til Victoria you’d reach
You’d best be broad of back with courage strong
Godspeed upon your journey hard and long (ch)
Have you served your time before the mast?
Do you think this run might be your last
And while heaving waves bring you to despair
Your Golden Dreams like sunlight fill the air
Now you’ve heard the tales of time and tide at sea
You’ve known a few who’d left with golden dreams
Their sun – bleached lonely bones ‘neath dusty desert stones
Are all that remain of those sailor lads that left the sea
Now the gold has claimed another fool in me
So the Lucky Country’s half a world away
From New Brunswick on this ragged freight
With our picks and rusty spades and ghostly guides that wait
I know I’ll never see my home again
While these Golden Dreams run rivers in my veins (ch)
Words: David Stone & Al Parrish/ Music – David Stone
|
||||
12. |
||||
Rear of Privateers
Down through Halifax you’d hear that they’d
Hang Em High at the rear of Privateers
Stories swirl ‘bout days of old
Of plunder’s ills and pirate codes
‘Take your share’ struck chords of fear
Or you’d ‘tie one on’ at the rear of Privateers
Many lads they chose the seas
They answered proud the King’s decree
But for everyone that made it clear
Well another’d hang at the rear of Privateers (ch)
There was honour in the Navy ways
And hard work when fishing fleets put sail
But for those that raised their swords in cheers
Many breathed their last at the rear of Privateers
When their time at sea was done
It was swift to shore their ships would run
For wages earned and drink they’d steer
To some darkened wharf at the rear of Privateers (ch)
From the Harbour to the ‘Head’
On tavern walls the warnings spread
“That greedy men all end up here
In a ‘hempen tie’ at the rear of Privateers”
And through old buildings their ghosts still meet
As their footsteps fall along Water Street
They stop to chat ‘bout their Glory Years
When their ships sailed home to the rear of Privateers (ch)
And now the years like seas roll on
And these daring men and their ships they’re long gone
But voices raise in our songs and cheers
With a foaming glass at the rear of Privateers (ch)
|
||||
13. |
||||
Bold Henry Moon
Here is the tale about young Henry Mo – on
A story about all the deeds he was do – in
From England he sailed on a fine day in Ju – ne
And running the roads was the road to his ru – in (repeat)
Some called him a robber a rogue and rapscallion
Some thought him a hero so bold and so valiant
He could steal you a horse – a fine coat or a spo – on
And running the roads was the road to his ru – in (repeat)
He could dance and could whistle or fiddle a tu – ne
His mind was a mire of deeds he was do – in
A jack – of – all – trades with schemes he was brew – in
And running the road was the road to his ru – in (repeat)
So they tossed him in jail a horse thief they knew him
But no man made restraint could contain all his ‘do – ings’
No irons or fetters could discourage his ‘stew – ings’
And running the roads was the road to his ru – in (repeat)
They thought you a crazy – a nut – a buf – foon
A trifle bit daft – ‘twixt a lark and a lo – on
Just not quite there when these deeds you were do – in
And running the roads was the road to your ru – in (repeat)
From New Brunswick through Maine his trail they’re pursu – in’
New York to ‘Down South’ darted bold Henry Mo – on
A preachin’ – and peddlin’ – his old ways renew – in’
And running the roads was the road to his ru – in (repeat)
For thirty long years – rambled Bold Henry Mo - on
In the still of night neath the light of the mo – on
Day in and day out such deeds he was do – in’
And running the roads was the road to his ru - in (repeat)
So you bold Lunar Rogue – your feats I’m a – view – in’
As I walk through the door where the pure stuff’s a – brew – in’
I’ll raise up a glass and a toast I’ll be do – in’
As I run on the roads where ran bold Henry Mo – on
As I run on the roads where ran bold Henry Mo – on
|
||||
14. |
the Nova Scotia Song
03:28
|
|||
Farewell to Nova Scotia (Traditional)
The sun was setting in the west
The birds were singing on every tree
All nature seemed inclined for to rest
But still there was no rest for me.
Farewell to Nova Scotia, you sea-bound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?
I grieve to leave my native land
I grieve to leave my comrades all
And my parents whom I held so dear
And the bonnie, bonnie lassie that I do adore.
The drums they do beat and the wars to alarm
The captain calls, we must obey
So farewell, farewell to Nova Scotia's charms
For it's early in the morning I am far, far away.
I have three brothers and they are at rest
Their arms are folded on their breast
But a poor simple sailor just like me
Must be tossed and driven on the dark blue sea.
|
David Stone Saint Peter'S, Nova Scotia
Born in St Peter's, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, a move to Toronto in 1979 was the start of my writing and performing on a professional level. Irish pubs and folk festivals through the late 1980s and early 1990s lead to a move back to Halifax NS in 1994, and more pubs, clubs and festivals. Began writing songs in 1980 with cousin and friend Roger Stone. Played very steadily through to 2010. ... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like David Stone, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp