The first essential for a trawler, decreasing
She's icing up faster and faster
But they was really rough in their ways
I got a shilling for each pound
Recommended, laddie
She gave me a sixpence
Wooden built, they were -
The crew consisted of three men and a boy
Three or four years before you got accepted as a man
When you could do a man's work
I'd sooner be a convict...
The drifters, just like a town lit up
There'd be times nobody got any sleep
All come into it and every herring pulled out of it
If there was a shimmer - a heavy shoal
Halibut, cod, lobster...
Oilskin blisters and boils, called peps
Keen frost, blinding snow
Cold and pitiless as the hand of death
Collisions inevitable with sad loss of life:
Two hundred and fifteen men and boys
Drowned at sea 1909 within sight of home
Eight out of ten they was really rough
He was always
Don't call me bloody boy - I can swear
One dirty night, fifty foot up from the deck
As a little boy of thirteen
The smack William Boyce
Driving before the wind with a crew of five hands -
The vessel altogether unmanageable
You could see he was a fisherman
Jolly Bob Adams, lost off a smack
The sea was full of ships, full of them
You had to see them times to believe them
The sea was full of ships, full of them
You had to see them times to believe them
She's icing up faster and faster
But they was really rough in their ways
I got a shilling for each pound
Recommended, laddie
She gave me a sixpence
Wooden built, they were -
The crew consisted of three men and a boy
Three or four years before you got accepted as a man
When you could do a man's work
I'd sooner be a convict...
The drifters, just like a town lit up
There'd be times nobody got any sleep
All come into it and every herring pulled out of it
If there was a shimmer - a heavy shoal
Halibut, cod, lobster...
Oilskin blisters and boils, called peps
Keen frost, blinding snow
Cold and pitiless as the hand of death
Collisions inevitable with sad loss of life:
Two hundred and fifteen men and boys
Drowned at sea 1909 within sight of home
Eight out of ten they was really rough
He was always
Don't call me bloody boy - I can swear
One dirty night, fifty foot up from the deck
As a little boy of thirteen
The smack William Boyce
Driving before the wind with a crew of five hands -
The vessel altogether unmanageable
You could see he was a fisherman
Jolly Bob Adams, lost off a smack
The sea was full of ships, full of them
You had to see them times to believe them
The sea was full of ships, full of them
You had to see them times to believe them
( Sector 27 )
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