05-19-2016, 08:40 PM
The sea cats claws had ripped the pier
three masts, full rigged the Forrest Hall,
two thousand tonnes without a steer.
No rescue for the sailors call
Louisa's launch would surely fail
so rope and block and one and all
did drag the boat through rain and hail,
up over Countisbury Hill
and o'er bleak Exmoor horse and tail.
Then down to Porlock slipping still
the boat was launched on dawns next day,
to guide them home above the shrill,
all thirteen strong to light their way
on board the schooner stepped the crew
safe anchors dropped by Barry's bay.
They steamed her back to Lyntons pew,
refurbished now for all to view.
three masts, full rigged the Forrest Hall,
two thousand tonnes without a steer.
No rescue for the sailors call
Louisa's launch would surely fail
so rope and block and one and all
did drag the boat through rain and hail,
up over Countisbury Hill
and o'er bleak Exmoor horse and tail.
Then down to Porlock slipping still
the boat was launched on dawns next day,
to guide them home above the shrill,
all thirteen strong to light their way
on board the schooner stepped the crew
safe anchors dropped by Barry's bay.
They steamed her back to Lyntons pew,
refurbished now for all to view.
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out