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| Sketch by G Cruikshank in Songs of the Late Charles Dibdin |
Throughout Lowry's novel Ultramarine, when the crew gather below decks, they sing songs to while away the time. Whether this is an accurate reflection of Lowry’s experience on board Pyrrhus is perhaps doubtful given the difficult time he reportedly had on the journey. The singing of ‘wild songs’ owes more to the idea of the forecastle that Lowry created from his reading of sea literature, including Herman Melville’s White Jacket. The most significant chapter in White Jacket for this idea of male bonding through the singing of ‘wild songs’ is ‘The World in a Man-of-War’. Melville refers to the singing of songs written by Charles Dibdin on board British and American ships, saying that Dibdin’s songs ‘breathe the very poetry of the ocean’. In Chapter 6 of Ultramarine, the crew gather below decks and tell stories of past voyages, argue and break into song from time to time. One of the crew breaks into one of Dibdin’s songs, ‘Grieving’s a Folly’:
‘And Jack went aloft for hand the top-ga’t sail.
A spray washed him off and we ne’er saw him no more.
But grieving’s a folly,
Come, let us be jolly,
If we’ve troubles at sea, boys, we’ve pleasures ashore.’ (Pg. 163)
Refrains from this song recur throughout Chapter 6, acting as an aural backdrop to the idle banter of the crew passing time between watches. (See Pgs. 163, 164 and 167)
Spanking Jack was so comely, so pleasant, so jolly,
Though winds blew great guns, still he'd whistle and sing,
For Jack loved his friend, and was true to his Molly,
And, if honor gives greatness, was great as a king.
One night as we drove with two reefs in the mainsail,
And the scud came on low'ring upon a lee shore,
Jack went up aloft for to hand the topg'ant sail --,
A spray washed him off, and we ne' er saw him more:
But grieving's a folly,
Come let us be jolly;
If we've troubles on sea, boys, we've pleasures on shore.
Whiffling Tom, still of mischief or fun in the middle,
Through life in all weathers at random would jog;
He'd dance, and he'd sing, and he'd play on the fiddle,
And swig with an air his allowance of grog:
'Longside of a Don, in the " Terrible" frigate,
As yardarm and yardarm we layoff the shore,
In and out whiffling Tom did so caper and jig it,
That his head was shot off, and we ne'er saw him more:
But grieving's a folly,
Come let us be jolly;
If we've troubles on sea, boys, we've pleasures on shore.
Bonny Ben was to each jolly messmate a brother,
He was manly and honest, good-natured and free;
If ever one tar was more true than another
To his friend and his duty, that sailor was he:
One day with the davit to weigh the kedge anchor,
Ben went in the boat on a bold craggy shore
He overboard tipped, when a shark and a spanker
Soon nipped him in two, and we ne'er saw him more:
But grieving's a folly,
Come let us be jolly;
If we've troubles on sea, boys, we've pleasures on shore.
But what of it all, lads? shall we be downhearted
Because that mayhap we now take our last sup?
Life's cable must one day or other be parted,
And Death in safe moorings will bring us all up.
But 'tis always the way on't -- one scarce finds a brother
Fond as pitch, honest, hearty, and true to the core,
But by battle, or storm, or some damned thing or other,
He's popped off the hooks, and we ne'er see him more!
But grieving's a folly,
Come let us be jolly;
If we've troubles on sea, boys, we've pleasures on shore.
