There was a young man from Nantucket –
His cognomen it was Ishmael –
Who sailed off to sea in a bucket
(The Pequod’s the name of that pail).
He slept in a hammock with Queequeg,
Whose harpoon was best baobab;
The captain, a tall and scarred peg-leg,
Was known to the crew as Ahab.
Chorus:
There’s fr*gging way up in the rigging,
I’th’ fo’c’sle there’s fiddle and rum,
There’s w*nking down here on the planking,
There’s “danns agus sgeulachd” – and bum!
One harpooneer’s name was Tashtego,
His weapon was long and erect,
And divvil-the-whale that this Dago
Would miss, each one felt its effect.
He brandished it higher and higher,
Held on to the shaft good and fast,
And tipped it with St Elmo’s fire
From up on the old mizzen mast.
Chorus…
They searched for an albino spermwhale,
Whose nomme-de-guerre was Moby Dick,
And who redefined the whole term “whale”
By having a massive fish stick.
They went on a Nantucket Sleighride,
They stuck him with harpoons and spears;
Sure, this was no New England Hay-ride,
They all kissed goodbye to their rears!
Chorus…
The only survivor was Ishmael
Who floated along on a plank,
Survived on three whelks and a fishtail,
His hand gripping fast to its shank.
Come all ye old sea-dogs and sailors,
That ever were keel-hauled or sunk,
Come all you old deck-hands and whalers,
And drink to a spermwhale with spunk!
Chorus…
Gold trophy winner
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