Come all ye young tars who are cruising for sperm,
Come all ye jolly seamen who have rounded Cape Horn,
For our captain has told us and we how he says true
That there's plenty of sperm whales on the coast of Peru!
'Twas early one morning just as the sun rose
That a man from the mast-head sung out "There she blows!"
"Where away ? cried our captain, "and how does he lay?"
"Two points on our lee, sir; scarce three miles away."
"Then call up all hands and be of good cheer;
Get your lines in your boats and your tackle-falls clear.
Hoist and swing fore and aft; stand by, each boat's crew,
Lower away, lower away, as the main-yard swings to."
Our waist-boat got down, and of course she got the start.
"Lay me on, Captain Bunker, I'm hell for a long dart!".
Now bend to your oars and make the boat fly,
But one thing we dread of, keep clear of his eye!
Now the captain is fast and the whale has gone down,
And the first mate lies waiting his line to bend on.
Now the whale has come up, like a log he did lay;
Whatever he done, boys, he gave us fair play.
Line missing
But we fought him 'longside and a lance we thrust in,
Which caused the whale to vomic and the blood for to spout;
In less than ten minutes be rolled both fins out.