Roy Palmer describes this lament in The Oxford Book of Sea Songs:
"In memoriam of the poor Fishermen who lost their lives in the Dreadful Gale from Grimsby and Hull, Feb. 8 & 9, 1889” is the title of a broadside produced by a Grimsby [other source: Whitby] fisherman, William Delf to raise funds for the bereaved families. It lists [nine] lost vessels, the last two from Hull: Eton, John Wintringham, Sea Searcher, Sir Fred. Roberts, British Workman, Kitten, Harold, Adventure, and Olive Branch. In addition the names of some of the lost sailors are given, and there is
a poem in eight stanzas. This passed into oral tradition, and in so doing lost six verses and acquired a new one (the last, in which an error of date occurs), together with a chorus and a tune. The oral version was noted from a master mariner, Mr J. Pearson of Filey, in 1957, and has subsequently, with some further small variations, become well known in folk-song clubs.
The Watersons introduced the song to the broader folk-revival scene in 1965. Before their recordings, the song had only small circulation mostly confined to Yorkshire.
William Delf was born at Wangford, Suffolk in 1851. He had a history of penning broadsides about local tragedies "for the aid of widows & children" (see: Lines in Memoriam of the poor Fishermen who lost their lives at sea, from HULL and other ports, on Tuesday, March 9th, 1883). Grimsby grew to house the world's largest fishing fleet by the mid 20th century, but fishing populations plummeted soon after.
The inclusion of October in this song is a strange detail as the gales occurred in February.
Methinks I see a host of craft spreading their sails a-lee
As down the Humber they do glide all bound for the Northern Sea.
Methinks I see on each small craft a crew with hearts so brave
Going out to earn their daily bread upon the restless wave.
Chorus:
And it's three score and ten boys and men were lost from Grimsby town.
From Yarmouth down to Scarborough many hundreds more were drowned.
Our herring craft, our trawlers, our fishing smacks as well,
They long did fight that bitter night and battled with the swell.
Methinks I see them yet again as they leave the land behind
Casting their nets into the sea, the fishing shoals to find.
Methinks I see them yet again and all on board's all right,
With the sails close reefed and the decks cleared up and the sidelights burning bright.
October's night left such a sight, was never seen before:
There was masts and spars and broken yards came floating to the shore.
There was many a heart of sorrow, there was many a heart so brave.
There was many a hearty fisher lad did find a watery grave.