The ‘Waterwitch’

A neat little packet from Hobart set sail,
For to cruise round the west’ard amongst the sperm whale;
Cruising the west’ard where the stormy winds blow,
Bound away in the ‘Waterwitch’ to the west’ard we’ll go.

Bound away, bound away, where the stormy winds blow,
Bound away in the ‘Waterwitch’ to the west’ard we’ll go.

Now at early one morning, just as the sun rose,
A man from her masthead cries out. “There she blows!”
“We’re away!” cried our skipper, and springing aloft
‘Three points on the lee bow and scarce three miles off”

‘Bet your lines in your boats, me boys, see your box line all clear,
and lower me down, me bully boys, and after him we’ll steer!”

Now the ship she gets full on, and to Hobart we’ll steer,
Where there’s plenty of pretty girls and plenty good beer,
We’ll spend our money freely with the pretty girls on shore,
And when it’s all gone, we’ll go whaling for more.

Bound away, bound away, where the stormy winds blow
Bound away in the ‘Waterwitch’  to the west’ard we’ll go.