Logs and Shanties

The shades of night were falling fast,
as through a Norfolk village passed,
A yacht which bore mid wind and wave,
an untried crew to an early grave-
The Mallards cruise!

To Potter did the yacht depart,
from Womack where the crew did start,
their training for the voyage ahead,
yet all did fear with inward dread-
The Commodore!

In Potter town they saw the light,
of household fires gleam warm and bright,
beyond there loomed that bridge of stone,
and from their lips escaped a groan,
Excelsior!

"Try not to pass" the Broadsman said,
"lest Potter bridge might strike your head
"the tide is running very high",
but Commie answered with a sigh-
Excelsior!

The Commie took the helm with glee,
and asked the crew if they'd like to see,
him shooting Potter in a force 9 gale,
without bothering to lower sail
Excelsior!

"Oh stay," the skipper said, "and moor",
"'cos my hands are really sore"
"The crew is tired and ready for bed",
But he too feared with heavy dread,
The Commodore!

The crew were new and unfamiliar,
to a ropes and other parafinalia
In vain the tired skipper and mate,
tried to avert their dismal fate
Excelsior!

There in the twilight cold and grey
Wrecked and mastless she lay,
That yacht which bore mid wind and wave
The untried crew to the early grave
The Mallards cruise!