THE MODERN WHALING FLEET

Prologue

The rolling drums of change beat out and the winds of time blow free

To fill the sails of whaling ships -- in nineteen hundred and three

Beat drummer man your sticks of time and let the rolling drum

Twang the rigs of sailing ships and make that message hum,

And let your hollow tattoo tell, "Nantucket", "Dundee" barques

That steam is here on whaling ships and steam will leave its mark.

They use a boiler full of steam to turn propeller screw

Where once you hauled the ice-caked sail as howling storms they blew,

Depending not on nature's whim to blow a steady breeze

The engines turn by day and night -- and drive the ship with ease.

A ship that's built of steel, not wood, and with a "Sven Foyn" gun,

And engine thrust to match the speed of Blue whales on the run.

The harpoons with explosive head -- and fuse all set to blow

With power that makes the hand harpoon look obsolete and slow,

A winch upon a steely deck -- to wheel the hawser in

That keeps large whales from sinking -- whether they be Blues or Fin,

A hose-pipe thrust deep in the whale -- to pump it full of air,

No methods of the old days -- with these methods could compare.

Then floating on its back -- the whale to factory ship is towed

Towards the flensing deck it's dragged -- up through the skidway road,

They don't build "Try-works" on this deck -- from mortar and from brick --

But down below high pressure pots reduce the blubber quick.

Yet still the men of whaling ships -- the Yanks and British too --

Kept fishing with the hand harpoon -- and six-man row boat crew,

They clung to age old methods for twenty years or more

But furled their sails to marching steam -- in nineteen hundred and four --

Since then they've marched together -- to the drummer's changing beat --

Along the paths that led us to -- the Modern Whaling Fleet.