The Ballad Of The Dartmouth’s Daughter Poem by B. V. Dahlen

She was christened Dartmouth’s Daughter
On the day she hit the water,
And her crew were men from local families.
So with loving hugs and hales
They set off to capture whales,
While her sheets filled quickly with the morning breeze.

Two years later she’d be found
North of bleak Queen Charlotte Sound
Her hold brimming with the oil they came to find.
As they turned south towards their rest
After all the oil was pressed,
Blackened clouds began to fill the sky behind.

Refrain
When old sea shanties are sung
They slip lightly from the tongue
But my story’s sadder than those merry tales
I sing of a gallant crew
Who was resolute and true
As they strained below those rolling wind-filled sails.

She was sleek and she was fast,
And the pennant from her mast
Trailed behind her with the knots that she devoured.
As she ran before the storm
Like a child before a swarm
Ice and sleet that lashed her deck had left it scoured.

Though her crew was seized with fear,
They knew they could persevere
Only if their ship could make that far-off port
But the distance was so great.
They could only hope and wait
Praying that their wave-lashed ship would not fall short.

Refrain
When old sea shanties are sung
They slip lightly from the tongue
But my story’s sadder than those merry tales
I sing of a gallant crew
Who were resolute and true
As they strained below those rolling wind-filled sails

Oh, the bravery they displayed,
And the many prayers they prayed
As the Dartmouth’s Daughter sprinted towards the shore,
But the reef that barred their path
Cut the sturdy ship in half,
And she joined old wreckage on the ocean floor.

Her brave crew had done their best,
But the sea in the Northwest
Has no pity for the valiant nor the souls
Who choose such a grisly mate.
Those who woo her find their fate
Broken there upon the rough and jagged shoals.

Refrain
When old sea shanties are sung
They slip lightly from the tongue
But my story’s sadder than those merry tales
I sing of a gallant crew
Who were resolute and true
As they strained below those rolling wind-filled sails

Dartmouth’s Daughter now resides
Far beneath those wind-swept tides
No one knowing of her fate until this time.
So I sing of fearless men
Who’s tale should be told again,
And to them I dedicate this mournful rhyme.