On cold and dark October nights when northwest gales do blow, You can see the Royal Tar off Coomb's Point all aglow. A sidewheel sailin' ship, she was, a packet of renown; She sailed from Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, down to Boston town. The cargo was a circus, horses, lions, camels too, A leopard and an elephant, a tiger and one old gnu. Aboard her were threescore and twelve and a crew of twenty-one; And thirty-three would perish 'ere that fateful night was done. "There's a fire!" someone shouted, "Fire in the hole!" And a northwest wind across the deck to chill the very soul. Their courage would be tested 'ere that fateful night was through. Of cowards there were many, of heroes just a few. With only six months service she was just off Isle Au Haut. The Captain looked for shelter when the gale commenced to blow. Captain Reed dropped anchor in the lee of Haven's shore. He said we'll be protected here 'til morning light for sure. Then came the call of fire and a mad rush for the boats. There being only two seaworthy and one that would not float. The crew abandoned first with just three men from below. The Captain took the jolly boat and two more for to row. Seventy-two were left aboard in the fire and the gale. Captain Waite, a passenger, slipped chain and set the sails. He hoped to beach the Royal Tar and save all those aboard, But the sails then caught afire and she helpless drifted seaward. Then from North Haven harbor came Dyer and his crew, Aboard the Schooner Veto, close by the Tar they drew. They took off forty souls from the listing, burning wreck, And then could take no more as the fire consumed the deck. Twelve women died that night and eleven children too; Just ten men died in all and only three of them were crew. The folks out on Matinicus say they watched the Royal Tar As she drifted out to sea 'til she looked to be a star. Of the animals that lived it's said they swam to shore, And to this day on stormy nights you'll hear the lions roar. The elephant was found washed up on far off Brimstone Isle. And none who lived to tell the tale would 'ere forget the trial.

Source: Schooner Fare, *Signs of Home* (1990)

Tom Rowe first heard the legend of the Royal Tar in 1972 while frequenting Vinalhaven Island. Years later, during a Schooner Fare school residency on North Haven Island, the White family provided him with extensive research on the disaster. How the fire started was never determined, and accounts conflict over whether Captain Reed and his crew acted nobly or abandoned ship. What is not disputed is the heroism of the people of North Haven, who braved the weather to rescue passengers and nursed the survivors back to health in the weeks that followed.

The Royal Tar was a 164-foot wooden side-wheel steamer that caught fire and sank in Penobscot Bay on October 25, 1836, while carrying a traveling circus. Thirty-two or thirty-three people perished, along with nearly all of the animals. The song takes some liberties with the historical record: the Royal Tar actually departed from Eastport, Maine (not Yarmouth, Nova Scotia), and the Veto was a U.S. Revenue Cutter, not a schooner. Arthur Slader published a contemporaneous poem, “The Burning Boat,” as a pamphlet in Saint John, New Brunswick, in 1837.