The Old Polina

 There's a noble fleet of Whalers, a sailing from Dundee
 Manned by British sailors, to take them o'er the sea
 On a western ocean passage, we started on the trip
 And we flew along, just like a song in our gallant whaling ship.

 Chorus:
 For the wind was on her quarter, and the engines working free
 There's not another whaler, that sails the Arctic Sea
 Can beat the Old Polina, you need not try me sons
 For we challenged all, both great and small, from Dundee to St. John's.

 'Twas the second Sunday morning, just after leaving port
 We met a heavy Sou'West gale that washed away our boat
 It washed away our quarter deck, our stanchions just as well
 And so we set the whole she-bang a-floating in the gale

 Art Jackson set his canvas, Fairweather got up steam
 And Captain Guy, the darling bye, came plunging through the stream
 And Mullins in the "Husky" tried to beat the blooming lot
 But to beat The Old Polina was something he could not

 There's the noble "Terra Nova", a model without doubt
 The "Arctic" and "Aurora" they talk so much about
 Art Jackman's model mail boat -- the terror of the sea
 Tried to beat the "Old Polina" on a passage from Dundee

 And now we're back in old St. John's, where rum is very cheap
 So we'll drink a health to Captain Guy who brought us o'er the deep
 A health to all our sweethearts and to our wives so fair
 Not another ship could make the trip with the "Polina" I declare.