One of the old time favourites of many singers and audiences. Thanks to Stan Hugill for bringing this chantey to us.
It’s a damned hard life, full of toil and strife
We whalermen undergo.
We don’t give a damn when the gale is done
How hard the winds did blow.
We’re homeward bound from the arctic ground
On a good ship taut and free,
We don’t give a damn when we drink our rum
With the girls on old Maui.
Chorus
Rolling down to old Maui, my boys,
Rolling down to old Maui.
We’re homeward bound from the arctic ground
Rolling home to old Maui.
Once more we sail with a northerly gale
Through the ice and sleet and rain.
Them native maids in their island glades
We soon shall see again.
Six hellish months we’ve passed away
On the cold Kamchatka sea,
And now we’re bound from the arctic ground,
Rolling down to old Maui.
Chorus
Once more we sail with a favorable gale
Towards our island home.
Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done
And we ain’t got far to roam.
Our stun’s’ls booms are carried away
What care we for that sound?
A living gale is after us
Thank God we’re homeward bound!
Chorus
How soft the breeze from the island seas
Now the ice is far astern,
And them native maids in their island glades
Are awaiting our return.
Even now their big black eyes look out
Hoping some fine day to see
Our baggy sails running ‘fore the gales
Rolling down to old Maui.
Chorus 2x