Welcome me hearty to the Pirates Cay Where lingering spirits of olde come to play The canons are rusting and menace no more Their swashbuckling captains lay on the sea floor
How did ye come here to this Pirates Cay For once through the breakwaters here ye must stay And when the moon rises the locals join in Skeletons glistening and stinking of gin
Come climb aboard leaving sword in its scabbard Forgive us the dead if we look a bit haggard You’re soon be to meeting our specter of wenches They deep as we down in Davey Jones’ trenches
Never the matter ‘tis too late for leaving The curtain has closed on our widows for grieving Find a good bunk and hold fast for the swell Welcome aboard it’s a long way to hell
We were three years waylaid hope gone from our hearts Marooned on an island never mentioned on charts Come a pea-soup fog rolled in with the tide On a wave of stench like to something had died
I leaned me forward on a blistered knee Peering o’er whitecaps stretching out to sea When a crows-nest broke above a bounding main For the first time in years heard that creaking again
In days gone past she just sailed on by Now I spied a front mast through my spyglass eye Limped off the beach and retreated to jungle Hobbled from a leech-lorne toe gone fungal
The tide came in and the fog spread like syrup A Galleon floated in like the kind built in Europe Me mateys in the bush watched a shadow come about The shadow wore a beard and he gave a mighty shout
Argh, lady dancers, all ashore and with a will And bring along a shovel for there’s gold enough to spill Twice ‘afore and this one more we’ll now have buried three Seven paces inland to the right and ‘neath a tree!
We heard chains a-clanking and doubloons in the sand I saw matey coughing but caught it with my hand The cap’ns eyes were fire and his teeth golden rot What pirates hell spawned him the devil I knew not
The hole at last covered they turned and strode away Hopped in a row boat and made for the bay And we sit here ‘next morning on gold fit for kings With only to spend it on the gulls tomorrow brings
Now dreams come easy of long pleasured craft Enow to hold gold would not fit my raft If Neptune sees fit to strand us you and I Know this, those I miss- as a rich man I die
Joseph John Racano
Clambering onto foreign shores Claiming lands that weren't yours Salten shore to weeping willow Claim for Spain the land Cabrillo
Check the outcrops, search the cays Find the gold within these bays Less a route and more a maze I don't care if it takes days
Native people, native tongue Took it from the very young Horrid history malevolent maps Bombardeta guns with violent caps
Up the rivers, down the streams Hoist a sail atop those beams A place of beauty so it seems I remember from my dreams
No small wonder no one cried Six months later when you died On the Catalina sands Buried by some old deck hands
Search the bluff tops, scour the hills I don't care how much blood spills I am wounded hot with chills Lay me down address my ills
One last sail to Catalina There to Avalon Bay Marina Find her there in the cantina One last kiss from sweet Salina
Now he sails through history Remembered for the snake he be Who claimed it all for Mother Spain Nevermore to come again
Joseph John Racano
Hold, King Neptune
Great King Neptune, stay thy sword Smite us not, thou briny lord Give us but a cause to fear Fair warning that the end draws near
Blue Poseidon hold thy Trident There’s no call to be so strident Long the years have passed since when Your maelstrom was unleashed on men
Not all people share the blame for Turtles in the Gulf aflame Many know as well as you Of Fukushima’s toxic brew
Father Ocean, please be kind some were young when stricken blind Born with no love in their hearts evolving slow, in fits and starts
Not all men deserve your wrath Reverent always of your bath Lash your swells both taut and deep Reserve Hell’s judgement lest good men weep
Joseph John Racano
Captain’s Folly
Twixt Aurora borealis and the Aleutian chain Where the sparkling of the ice became Titanic’s bane A crook-built captain stood lashed to the helm Carving last initials in American Elm
The sea spat foam on a slippery deck Where the ship’s last captain had broken his neck Out on the horizon rose a turbulent wave Ridden by a mammoth come a watery grave
Already been a giant when the captain was born Back amidst the sunshine of a Nantucket morn Screaming to a whaler’s wife and no good mother Handed off to live with some stranger or another
The cards proclaimed his destiny when they were read ‘Ye shall smell of land, an isle of white’ they said ‘Beware to poke the devil fish for this be folly Leaving ship and captain to be melancholy’
Back at hand the smell of land was overpowering High above the gunwales giant flukes were towering Power slapping boatswains into sharpened splinters Scattering brave men who would see no more winters
Now around amidships came the whirlpool cyclone Surface of the water now a dim gray sky tone Overboard and sinking fast a harpoon whale gun Ocean water lapping o’er the deck and then some
Rats began appearing jumping ship in number Salt and briny water had awoke their slumber ‘Cap’n,’ yelled the first mate from the after-steering ‘We’re sinking!’ but the captain was deceased, unhearing
Soon enough the white behemoth turned and left Nothing broke the water save a ship bereft Scattered on an island beach the good ship’s mail Was all they ever found to tell the captain’s tale
The Mary Celeste was a study in mystery One foot in folklore the other in history Found hard adrift with no crew off the Azores None left behind save the bunks and the bedsores
Eleven years after the ship was commissioned A brigantine vessel supplied and provisioned Galley abandoned, a sink full of dishes Plenty good reason to be superstitious
Ten days the ship’s log sat fallow and empty No trace of where anyone of them could be But some of the saltier sea hag persuasion Quiet opined they were took by contagion
Whilst others with knowledge of these local waters Crossed themselves twice and again for their daughters They knew the stories of man-eating kraken Spawn of the devilfish, kin of the dragon
But none of them knew, not a person on Earth In all of the shipping lanes Boston to Perth What really happened to that ship and crew One night in November, 1872
The whale-oil lantern's light blurred in the rain Crew members shouted a final refrain Sucker-disc tentacles plucking good men Drawing them down to their doom and their end
The Nordic seas roiled with a hate for the Viking Black waters boiled not much to my liking
Lashed to their oars sat a hundred strong row men Low in the sky the red moon was an omen
Down below decks and in chain kept the wenches Merciful rains washed us clean of foul stenches
Nary a star to be found in the sky All navigation thus blind to the eye Barrels of lard rolling oe’r the side
Spread ‘cross the swells as though something had died
Sharks oceanic did gather to feast When lookout at starboard was first saw the beast He of the criss-crossing armour-plate scales Poisonous barbs at the end of three tails
Tentacles suckers come sneaking aboard Dragging men back down to their briny lord Serpentine kraken to bulkhead held fast Finally snapping the ship’s central mast
Slurping the crew members one and by one Wenches below prayed out loud for the sun Master at arms raised a harpoon on high Aiming to thrust iron barb to the eye
Hurling with force striking flush on the horn That’s how the legend of Narwhale was born
A thousand miles West of the Azores that morn Our final supplies a half-barrel of corn The water ran out and we kept the crew wet By wringing the sails of what moisture could get
With no sign of land, not a dally of wind The crew’s jealous loyalty near to rescind Me leg on the wood side kept slipping on salt The one on the good side kicked open the vault
And showed them the treasure would soon be their own If we could keep hold of our minds ‘till we’re home And almost it worked ‘till that black fateful day When we run aground in a mountain of spray
The crew was lain flat on our backs to a man Up in the crow’s nest yon pointed his hand And down was he pointing to places below But thar was no whale for the white caps to show
And rose from the sea come from some other realm Tall as the main mast and rained on my helm A scaly behemoth with dancing fork tongue Fresh from maternity eating its young
The wires were slapping the ropes they were snapping The deckhands rolled overboard those been caught napping A scream from the crow’s nest with lookout been seized Was not flesh enow be the monster appeased
Now finally the wind by King Neptune’s good graces Gave heave to our backs with the beast at our faces And down went the serpent to gather a drink Soon to return with attack I did think
But though he did rise like the sixth plague from hell Our galleon ship had advanced very well And soon we had many large miles of sea Twixt the behemoth, a riddance to he
In the days of Magellan on a turbulent sea The Galleon Isabella struggled hard to break free Some unknown force held her mighty in check Twisting out of sorts with a torque on the deck
The captain and commander ordered a sounding ‘Aye’ came the reply lest the good ship risk grounding The crewman knew these darkened waters, good and deep they were But quartermaster fearing disaster, called to his captain, ‘sir!’
'Somethings come betwixt the hull and keel of Isabella Larger than the galleon’s beam and shaped like an umbrella' They loaded starboard cannons and the sails were raised to full Called on good Poseidon that his strongest winds give pull
And there at the aft of the large wood craft a demon broke the surface Had the old black seadog yapping all the crewman nervous The ship broke free to the captains glee and they left those haunted waters Still to this day Isabella’s bulkheads display giant sucker marks on her hind quarters
The wind is awoken and fain set to blow Lay shields to the wedges through the straits we go Three hundred raiders on board row the Draken Bound for Valhalla and dam to the kraken
Leaving behind any kindness and mercy Only fresh blood on the sword honors Sertsey Feather the oars let the wind fill our sails Lightning and Thunder God Thor provide gales
Down to the deck every oar with its handles Those who will perish shall the rest provide candles Steer now the rudder aim straight for the fog Cloak our approach as we kill maim and grog
Now to the river bank those first ashore Lighten the bow, pull us shallow to moor Trade in the oars for a good and broad sword We take what is ours and return to the fjord