Forty Years a Sailor

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Donald Angus Macrae

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Oh, I'm forty years a sailor, cn' never lost a raft
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale
Now, there's many call me simple, There's many call me daft
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale
We were just away from White Bay, cn' listing well to port
     With the weather an' our luck about to fail
We'd take hell before the harbour, The devil we would thwart
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale

We were well in flight by nightfall, Full sixty miles from land
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale
Then a driving rain was on us, The wind, she turned her hand
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale
Oh, the storm was now a serpent, That pitched us side to side
     cs the tattered sheets above us took the hail
Now, our hull was caving inward, Our sails no longer tied
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale

Then I swear by God clmighty, cn' on my mother's grave
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale
I could hear a woman whisper, I saw her in a wave
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale
So I followed as she bade me, cn' held the rudder fast
     Prayin' she an' not the water would prevail
cn' we soon made Fogo Island, We'd beat the bitter blast
     The skipper knew the peril in the gale

Tho' I tell the tale to many, There's none that never laughed
Pour the crazy sailor one more jar of ale
But I'm forty years a sailor, cn' never lost a raft
The skipper knew the peril in the gale

Written by:  Don Macrae

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