Dan Johnson and Tim Loftus's latest launching is this Caledonia Yawl, destined for top honours no doubt at this year's rally on the canal. "Goes like smoke" is the comment from the man hanging by his fingernails to the tiller (note the rudder arm and push/pull tiller itself. Very Scandinavian.

LBSC Party 2017: Some Highlights Courtesy of Paul "That's my Very Last Powerpoint, Ever" Copestake

The Yarn of the Loch Achray is reproduced below

The Yarn of the “Loch Achray”
By John Masefield (1878–1967)
From ‘Salt-Water Ballads’
THE “LOCH ACHRAY” was a clipper tall
With seven-and-twenty hands in all.
Twenty to hand and reef and haul,
A skipper to sail and mates to brawl
“Tally on the tackle-fall,        5
Heave now’n’ start her, heave’n’ pawl!”
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,
        An old yarn learned at sea.
Her crew were shipped and they said “Farewell,
So-long, my Tottie, my lovely gell;        10
We sail to-day if we fetch to hell,
It’s time we tackled the wheel a spell.”
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,
        An old yarn learned at sea.
The dockside loafers talked on the quay        15
The day that she towed down to sea:
“Lord, what a handsome ship she be!
Cheer her, sonny boys, three times three!”
And the dockside loafers gave her a shout
As the red-funnelled tug-boat towed her out;        20
They gave her a cheer as the custom is,
And the crew yelled “Take our loves to Liz—
Three cheers, bullies, for old Pier Head
’N’ the bloody stay-at-homes!” they said.
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,        25
        An old yarn learned at sea.
In the gray of the coming on of night
She dropped the tug at the Tuskar Light,
’N’ the topsails went to the topmast head
To a chorus that fairly awoke the dead.        30
She trimmed her yards and slanted South
With her royals set and a bone in her mouth.
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,
        An old yarn learned at sea.
She crossed the Line and all went well,        35
They ate, they slept, and they struck the bell
And I give you a gospel truth when I state
The crowd didn’t find any fault with the Mate,
But one night off the River Plate.
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,        40
        An old yarn learned at sea.
It freshened up till it blew like thunder
And burrowed her deep, lee-scuppers under.
The old man said, “I mean to hang on
Till her canvas busts or her sticks are gone”—        45
Which the blushing looney did, till at last
Overboard went her mizzen-mast.
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,
        An old yarn learned at sea.
Then a fierce squall struck the “Loch Achray,”        50
And bowed her down to her water-way;
Her main-shrouds gave and her forestay,
And a green sea carried her wheel away;
Ere the watch below had time to dress
She was cluttered up in a blushing mess.        55
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,
        An old yarn learned at sea.
She couldn’t lay-to nor yet pay-off,
And she got swept clean in the bloody trough,
Her masts were gone, and afore you knowed        60
She filled by the head and down she goed.
Her crew made seven-and-twenty dishes
For the big jack-sharks and the little fishes,
And over their bones the water swishes.
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,        65
        An old yarn learned at sea.
The wives and girls they watch in the rain
For a ship as won’t come home again.
“I reckon it’s them head-winds,” they say,
“She’ll be home to-morrow, if not to-day.        70
I’ll just nip home ’n’ I’ll air the sheets
’N’ buy the fixin’s ’n’ cook the meats
As my man likes ’n’ as my man eats.”
So home they goes by the windy streets,
Thinking their men are homeward bound        75
With anchors hungry for English ground,
And the bloody fun of it is, they’re drowned!
        Hear the yarn of a sailor,
        An old yarn learned at sea.

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