Stan Rogers The Cliffs Of Baccalieu
The Cliffs of Baccalieu We were bound home in October from the shores of Laborador Trying to head a bad Nor'easter and snow, too But the wind swept down upon us making day as black as night Just before we made the land of Baccalieu. Oh we tried to clear the Island as we brought her farther South And the wind from out the Nor'east stonger blew Till our lookout soon he shouted and there lay dead ahead Through the snow squalls loomed the cliffs of Baccalieu. It was hard down by the tiller as we struggled with the sheets Tried our best to haul them in a foot or two Till our decks so sharply tilted that we could barely keep our feet As we hauled her from the rocks of Baccalieu. Oh the combers beat her under and we thought she ne'er would rise And her mainboom was bending neigh in two With our lee rails three feet under and two hands at the wheel Sure, we hauled her from the rocks of Baccalieu Oh to leeward was the island and to win'ard was the gale And the blinding sleet would cut you through and through But our hearts were beating gladly for no longer could we gaze Down to leeward at the cliffs of Baccalieu.