Ferry Ride

3 Responses to Ferry Ride

1. Henry Peacock says:

   October 5, 2021 at 10:29 am

   I’ve been reading about Tiger Bay. In 1874, James Greenwood published his account of a visit to Tiger Bay in East London;

   “But can you direct me to the neighbourhood the newspapers have spoken of as Tiger Bay?” I mildly insinuated, “The locality where sailors are so shamefully used by ruffianly men and women.”
   “Oh! if she-tigers make Tiger Bays, you haven’t got far to travel,” replied the Policeman, yielding slightly; “That’s one,” (pointing to a black and narrow avenue on the opposite side of the way), “and two turn-ins higher up there’s another. Brunswick Street is another. Brunswick Gardens is a goodish bit further up – little prayer-meeting place at the corner of it. P’raps that’s the Tiger Bay you want. I’d rather you want it than me. They’d have the hair off a man’s head if they could get a penny a pound for it.”

   This song emerged! Wild Tiger Bay
   Tune; The Limerick Rake/Champion at Keeping Them Rolling (MacColl)/High Sheriff of Hazard (Paxton)/Cold Coast of Iceland (Waterson)

   We sail by the day and we sail by the night
   And we all give a cheer when land comes into sight
   If there’s peril at sea, then there’s pleasure ashore
   Pretty girls beckon to us from every door

   Now Jack sits in a tavern, happy as he can be
   With a glass in his hand and a girl on his knee
   Buy us one more, Jack, and sing us a song
   Alas, cries poor Jack, All my money is gone

   Then give me your jacket, I’ll pawn it for you
   To buy you a drink, that’s the least I can do
   Take off your waistcoat and hand it to me
   To pay for a sailor who’s out on a spree

   I shall have all his clothes when this evening is through
   And if I could sell it, I’d take his skin too
   With claws like a tigress, she strips poor Jack bare
   And without a glance backward leaves Jack lying there

   In the cold morning, Jack wakes in the street
   No shirt on his back and no boots on his feet
   He set out so grandly but now he must crawl
   Back to his ship wearing nothing at all

   Far out at sea he will face the great gales
   Out on the yardarm to take in the sails
   The wind and the waves they may wash him away
   But he’s still safer there than in wild Tiger Bay

   Hope you like it!
   • Joseph says:

     October 5, 2021 at 7:50 pm

     Hello Henry,

     Your composition? It’s rather clever! I might work on it for performance… Did you record it at all? “Wild Tiger Bay” by Henry Peacock.
2. Henry Peacock says:

   October 6, 2021 at 1:32 am

   Thank you, Joseph.

   Wild Tiger Bay by Henry Peacock
   I’ve been reading about Tiger Bay, the name for communities that grew up around docklands. Shirley Bassey – who recorded the theme song for the James Bond movie Goldfinger – came from Tiger Bay in Cardiff. But usually the name did not appear on maps.

   In 1874, James Greenwood published his account of a visit to Tiger Bay in East London;
   “But can you direct me to the neighbourhood the newspapers have spoken of as Tiger Bay?” I mildly insinuated, “The locality where sailors are so shamefully used by ruffianly men and women.”
   “Oh! if she-tigers make Tiger Bays, you haven’t got far to travel,” replied the Policeman, yielding slightly; “That’s one,” (pointing to a black and narrow avenue on the opposite side of the way), “and two turn-ins higher up there’s another. Brunswick Street is another. Brunswick Gardens is a goodish bit further up – little prayer-meeting place at the corner of it. P’raps that’s the Tiger Bay you want. I’d rather you want it than me. They’d have the hair off a man’s head if they could get a penny a pound for it.”

   I’ve only just completed the song, the ink is hardly dry!

   Here’s another song about Glasson Dock, a small port on the west coast of England. However, the sentiments are universal.

   The Port of Lancaster prospered in the eighteenth century as part of the “Africa trade”. It imported sugar, mahogany and tobacco and became the fourth most important port in England in the triangle of the slave trade. But the Lune was only navigable at high tide and, as sailing ships grew larger, they found the passage up to St George’s Quay increasingly difficult. The Port Commissioners decided to build a dock at the mouth of the Lune, and Glasson Dock opened in 1787.

   This new song was inspired by fragments of songs and memories collected by Ruth Zanoni Roskell in Glimpses of Glasson Dock, Landy Publishing, 2005. John Lamb was the first dock gate man. He lived on the pierhead in an upturned boat, and the dock gates were known as John Lamb’s parlour doors. Cockersand and Plover Scar lighthouses were built in 1847. The Pier Hall, the first building in Glasson, remains as private apartments.

   Haul for Glasson! by Henry Peacock Tune; Green Bushes/The Waggoner’s Lad/ Farewell to Tarwathie/Farewell Angelina (Dylan) Chorus; repeat second part of tune

   Home to dear England our ship she is bound
   And in heaving the lead we’ll soon strike English ground
   What pleasure we have, with what joy cry the men
   When we come into sight of old England again

   Chorus; And we call, Haul for Glasson!
   Through sea-spray and foam
   Yes, we all haul for Glasson
   Now we’re heading for home

   We wait in Lune Deep then sail up with the tide
   John Lamb will be ready, dock gates open wide
   By Cockersand light and then past Plover Scar
   Every family awaiting their homecoming tar

   Chorus

   Now our ship she’s inside of John Lamb’s parlour doors
   Up to the Pier Hall we must go, to be sure
   For there our dear girls come from town in great style
   To welcome us home with their kisses and smiles

   Chorus

   We climb Glasson Hill for a view of the Lune
   And look over the valley we’ll leave all too soon
   We spend time in the arms of our sweethearts and then
   Kiss them good-bye as we sail off again

   And we call, Haul for Glasson!
   Through sea-spray and foam
   But when you’re a sailor
   The sea is your home

   Best wishes from Henry Peacock
   Preston, PR2 8BQ Lancashire, England
   henrypeacock(at)talktalk.net

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