Lyrics and Music: Harry Robertson
Oh it’s sailing oot o’ Scotland and it’s heading south we go
To the cold Antarctic oceans where the Blue and Fin Whale blow
And the first time is adventure and you’re feeling kind of glad
That you’re sailing on a Factory Ship to be a Blubber Lad.
Over rattling winches, and the icy winds that sigh,
Blubber Laddie! Keep it moving! You can hear the Flensers cry!
Aye there’s men who flense the blubber and there’s men who work the saws,
For many skills are needed doon among the ice and snows,
And the Cooker Men are clever getting oil wi’ steaming heat,
But the Lads who swing a blubber hook are canny lads to meet.
Watch them balance on a rolling deck where heaps o’ blubber lie,
As they drag the strips o’ blubber to the manhole’s waiting eye,
And their hooks are flashing quickly, they dance like the imps o’ hell,
On the bloody freezing deck that reeks o’ whaling factory smell.
When the season’s work is over and we’re back on shore again,
And ye wonder why the city folk can tell ye’re Whaling Men,
It’s no secret to them shipmates when you see them stand and look
As the Laddies walk along the street and swing their blubber hook.
and subsequently ©1995 Mrs Rita Robertson, Brisbane, AUSTRALIA
Registered with APRA-AMCOS www.apra-amcos.com.au