From a book Chris Morgan loaned me, called (I think) Folksongs of New Zealand. It's a shorewhaler's song, made by the New Zealanders who went to live on the archipelagos to catch whales from small boats. They got their "stake" from an agent of the big companies (like the Weller Company) - hence, any agent of those companies became a "Wellerman. They were paid in staples, not money, so many of them never made enough to return home, and ended up farming or fishing on the little islands upon which they were "set down. This is a fanciful tale they put together about bigship whaling: the picture of a 3-master being towed on some Nantucket sleighride by a single whale has some startling implications. [GB] Gordon: 12-string guitar; Ed: 6-string guitar; Ann: whistle.
There was a ship that put to sea
And the name of the ship was the Billy of Tea.
The wind blew up, her bow dipped down,
Oh, blow, my bully boys, blow.
Soon may the Wellerman come
And bring us-sugar and tea and rum.
One day, when the tonguing is done,
We'll take our leave and go.
She had not been two weeks from shore
When down on them a right whale bore.
The captain called all hands and swore
He'd take that whale in tow.
Before the boat had hit the water
The whale's tail come up and caught her.
All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her,
But she dived down below.
No line was cut; no whale was freed.
The captain's mind was not on greed.
He belonged to the whaleman 's creed:
She took that ship in tow.
For forty days or even more
The line went slack, then tight once more.
All the boats were lost ( there were only four),
But still that whale did go.
As far as I know the fight' s still on,
The line's not cut and the whale's not gone.
The Wellerman makes his regular call
To encourage the captain, crew and all.