SPANISH LADIES
(Traditional English Capstan Shanty)


Farewell and adieu to you fine Spanish ladies,
Farwell and adieu all you ladies of Spain;
For we've received orders to sail for old England;
And perhaps we shall never more see you again.

Chorus:
We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll range and we'll roam over all the salt seas,
Until we strike soundings in the Channel of old England,
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues.

Then we hove our ship to, with the wind at sou'-west, my boys, 
Then we hove our ship to, for to strike soundings clear; 
Then we filled the main topsail and bore right away, my boys, 
And straight up the Channel of old England did steer. 

Chorus

So the first land we made it is called the Deadman, 
Next Ram Head off Plymouth, Start, Portland and the Wight; 
We sailed hy Beachy, by Fairly and Dungeness, 
And then bore away for the South Foreland light. 

Chorus

Now the signal it was made for the Grand Fleet to anchor, 
All on the Downs that night for to meet; 
Then stand by your stoppers, see clear your shank-painters, 
Haul all your clew garnets, stick out tacks and sheets. 

Chorus

Now let every man drink up his full bottle, 
Let every man drink up his full bowl; 
For we will be jolly and drown melancholy, 
With a health to each jovial and true-hearted soul. 

Chorus


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SPANISH LADIES 
(The Yankee Version - Adapted by Roger Chartier)


Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain
For we've received orders to sail to New Bedford
And perhaps we shall never more see you again.

Chorus:
We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors
We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea
Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford
Nantucket to home is just a few leagues

We hove our ship to with the wind at the sou'west boys
We hove our ship to for to take soundings clear
In fifty five fathoms with a fine sandy bottom
We filled main tops'l up channel did steer

We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors
We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea
Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford
Great Point to home is just a few leagues

The first land we made was a place called Nantucket
Martha's Vinyard, Woods Hole then down Buzzards Bay
We sailed then by Marion, Mattapoisett, and Fairhaven
Then bore straight away for New Bedford, hooray

We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors
We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea
Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford
The Vinyard to home is just a few leagues

Now the Captain called out for our grand ship to anchor
We clewed up our tops'ls stuck out tacks and sheets
We stood by our stoppers, we brailed in our spankers
And anchored ahead of the noblest of fleets

We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors
We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea
Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford
Woods Hole to home is just a few leagues

Let every man here drink up his full bumper,
Let every man here drink up his full bowl
And let us be jolly and drown melancholy
And drink a health to each jovial and true hearted soul

We'll rant and we'll roar like true Yankee sailors
We'll rant and we'll rave across the salt sea
Till we strike soundings in the harbor of New Bedford
West Island to home is just a few leagues.