We sailed away to Cardiff town,
From there to Bahia we were bound,
In Cardiff we lost our fine Old Man,
And Hard-tack Hans we got, got, got.
Repeat last two lines in each verse as chorus
With a following wind we steered away,
The t'gallants blew out the folloiwng day,
They boom and they shook, made a dreadful kicking,
In that very old piece of loot, loot, loot.
Being what it is- the windmill pump,
Would neither go, nor suck a drop,
Yes, for it to work it must blow a hurricane,
And so we pumped out eighteen inches - water, water, water.
One week of this soon got us down,
"The bread's nearly gone," said Hard-tack Hans,
Twelve packets were made - one for each man,
To whack out the bread till we came to land, land, land.
English translation