Heave Ho

by David Stone

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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 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.
7.
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 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 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.
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.

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released September 1, 2021

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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

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