MABEL’S SONG

PLYMOUTH – LA ROCHELLE RACE 2012

Our father was the keeper of the Eddystone Light                                                                                      

And he slept with a mermaid one fine night                                                                                                      

Out of this union according to fable                                                                                                           

Came the skipper and crew of the good ship Mabel

 

Refrain:                                                                                                                                                                   

Singing yo-ho-ho, let the winds blow free                                                                                                                     

Oh for a life on the rolling sea                                                                                                     

 

One night while we were sailing out the Plym                                                                                                

Singing a verse from the evening hymn                                                                                                             

The wind was fair and the cook was gay                                                                                                            

And we followed a course to Douarnenez

 

We made a good start – first across the line                                                                                              

When Falcon of Boston cut it too fine                                                                                                                    

She ran into Talia’s pretty little stern                                                                                                            

Who rounded into us in an unintended turn

 

As we sailed past the Eddystone Light                                                                                                              

Looming in the gloom was a glorious sight                                                                                                        

A voice out starboard shouted ahoy                                                                                                               

And there was our mother a sitting on a buoy

 

Then up comes our mother and says to the crew                                                                                             

What can I do for the five of you?                                                                                                               

We’re short of wind with a long way to go                                                                                                       

 

So perhaps we could ask you to whistle up a blow

 

We  arrived in Brittany on its western shore                                                                                                          

And went to a bar that was called the Tribord                                                                                                             

We had a beer and then a few more                                                                                                                                         

And then we were proffered by a neat little whore

 

We went to a film about a ship that sank                                                                                                               

We’ve seen prettier boats here to be frank                                                                                                  

She was t-boned in one fell sweep                                                                                                                  

And all the grown men began to weep

 

Then off we set to sail through the night                                                                                                      

South through the Raz to the Eckmulh light                                                                                                              

Then on past Glenans we set our keel                                                                                                                                   

All of the way to bonny Belle Ile

 

We rounded and sounded to make the gate*                                                                                                     

But fear we were running a bit too late                                                                                                                          

Then we set a course for La Rochelle                                                                                                              

And drank a toast to our dear Mabelle

 

Becalmed again off Sable d’Olonne                                                                                                                           

Where has all the bloody wind gone?                                                                                                                       

Now we’re beginning to despair                                                                                                                     

Wondering if we’ll ever get there

 

As we approached the La Rochelle lock                                                                                                                   

There was our mother a sitting on a rock                                                                                                        

She swam alongside and blew us a kiss                                                                                                                    

And gave all her sons a great big fish

 

Then the phosphorescence flashed in her seaweed hair                                                                                           

And we took another look and our mother wasn’t there                                                                                    

When we heard her voice come out of the night                                                                                      

Saying “I’m swimming back to the Eddystone Light”

 

Now it’s au revoir á tous nos amis                                                                                                                     

It’s time for Mabel to get back to sea                                                                                                                

We’re looking forward to seeing you again   

 

 

(*Mabel sailed down the west side of Belle Ile, so had to round up

the southern end of the island to approach the gate from the south.)