Capt. Whall provides the following partial songs under the heading "Shakings"
On the twenty-fourth November, boys, 'Twas in the Channel we lay Awaiting for fresh orders, boys, Our anchor for to weigh; Bound for the coast of Africay, Our orders there, also Were for to kill and destroy, my boys, Wherever we might go...
Timber droghers would sing:
Was you ever in Quebec a-launching timber on the deck? Ch: Because we was a young thing lately left her mammy, O.
The West Indiaman had:
Give me the gal can dance fandango, Ch: Running down to Cuba
Of such special shanties I have not made a collection, nor have I given shanties of other nations, such, for instance, as the Calashie whine of
Kis ki ma doo day cal as-sie Ch: Kis ki ma doo-day
that rang in our ears all day long in Calcutta, and to which Sailor John gave a most improper rendering; or the "Good-bye" song of the Kanaka:
Good-bye, my fennie, O li ah O ti a

Source: Capt. W. B. Whall

These fragments from Capt. Whall (Sea Songs and Shanties) are provided in case they later lead to connections with other shanties.

W. C. Russell’s Sailors’ Language (1883) defines shakings as “old canvas, rope, &c”.

Whall’s West Indian fragment turns up in fuller form in Andrew Shewan’s tea-clipper memoir, The Great Days of Sail (1927). Recalling Foochow in the 1860s, Shewan writes that a crew of Black West Indian sailors “gave, perhaps, the best entertainment,” and that his shipmate “old Jackson,” the shantyman, gave as his favourite:

Running down with a press of sail, Running down to Cuba; Slinging the water over the rail, Running down to Cuba.

Oh, good Lord! how de wind do blow Running down to Cuba! And our old man, he crack on so, Running down to Cuba!

Shewan gives a second favourite of the West Indian crews, which “seemed almost to refer to some forgotten fight with Spaniards or buccaneers”: “Fire from the round top, fire from the bow, / Fire, O my lady, get down below!”