The Strange Cruise of the Buttercup

[gray_marian]

The Strange Cruise of the Buttercup



The ship was moored at the Tyneside Docks, along the River Thames,
The Captain strode the bridge with pride; the crew were playing games.
The coxwain whistled a happy tune, like the warbling of a bird,
And below in the hold where the first mate was, his singing could be heard.

The crow was sitting on his nest, atop the mast so high,
The binnacles were out of the bin and lying neatly by.
The barnacles were stored in the barn, the compass had been wound,
The crew had washed the sails that day, and spread them all around.

Aloft on the topmast part of the ship was a cabin, neatly made,
Built of Mahogany, Ebon and Pine; covered with Gold and Jade.
And when the crew glanced up that way, as they hurried by apace,
Framed in the window they could see the Commodore’s placid face.

A tall, stern man was the Commodore, and never known to smile.
Through storm and rain and thundering winds, he was placid all the while.
His face never mirrored a sign of fear, anxiety or alarm;
Whatever the circumstances might be, the Commodore’s face was calm.

The sun was shining bright this day, and the sky was a brilliant blue.
The spindrift sparkled in white and green, and a dazzling emerald hue.
And as the sun began to sink down into the western sea,
The Captain clapped his hands in joy. “We sail tonight!” said he.

The Cook jumped up from his place of rest, the crew left off their games,
They began to rush and bustle about with a hundred different aims.
The Mates began to roar and curse; the Boatswain swained the boats,
And the Cook began to boil a stew of Parsley, Beets and Oats.

The Captain watched the toiling men with happy, piquant eye.
They went at their work with a will and a way, to DO, by gosh, or die.
The Engineer was the only man who loafed among the crew,
For the boat was run by sails alone, and he hadn’t a thing to do.

At last the Mate to the Captain came, politely touching his cap,
And remarking that they were ready to sail, he then curled up for a nap.
And far above this hue and cry, in a window trimmed with lace,
Overlooking this scene of frantic toil was the Commodore’s placid face.

“Ahoy! Ahoy!” the Captain cried. “Avast, my lads! Heave Ho!
Snap to it there, and smartly now! Look sharp about! Let’s go!”
The Boatswain ran to the Captain’s side as quick as a musket shot.
“We’ll do it, sir,” he said, “if you will only tell us what!”

And then, as the sky above was dimmed by the darkening shades of night,
The ship was checked and everything was tied down snub and tight.
The Commodore’s placid face stared down on the crew lined up at the rail,
As the Captain raised his hand and gave order, “Hoist the Sail!”

The night was dark and all was still; the lookout manned his post,
The Captain lounged in his cabin aft, lunching on tea and toast.
When suddenly he sprang erect; his face was white with chill,
For the night was split by an eerie shriek – sharp, high-pitched, and shrill.

The Captain was astounded; his perplexity was great.
He ran around in circles and a backward figure of eight.
Then out of the night and into his room the Navigator rushed.
His face was white with terror, and his voice was choked and hushed.

“Oh, sir! We’re doomed! We’re lost!” he said. “We all shall perish!” cried he,
“A curse is on us all,” he wailed. “The ship sailed on a Friday.”
“No, no, my lad,” the Captain said, “It’s quite all right, I know.
“We sailed upon a Thursday, ‘cause the calendar said so.”

The Navigator fell to the floor. He wailed and kicked his feet.
“The International Date Line, sir, we crossed last year with the fleet.
We gained a day when we crossed the Line, and because of the South Seas trip,
While it’s Thursday for all England, it is Friday for the ship!”

The Captain’s face turned white with fear; he jerked and spilled his tea.
“The word will get around,” he said. “The crew will mutiny!”
And sure enough, as quick as light, the word went whizzing roun’,
That the ship had sailed on Friday and was cursed, and would go down.

Some of the crew were seen to blanch, and some to grit their teeth.
Two of the crew raised up the stove and crawled in underneath.
The frightened Cook to a lifeboat ran, leaving the stew to burn,
When all of a sudden the Watch cried “HO! I see a Thing astern!”

A few of the men ran back to the stern, but most of them ran to the bow.
And one man made a slim excuse to crawl to the tip of the prow.
The Captain and Mates peered out abaft and faintly could discern
A dim, tremendous, threatening Shape, looming far astern.

The Coxwain jittered, and wiggled his nose in whitefaced, trembling fear,
While the Third Mate scrooched his mouth around and bit his own left ear.
The Cook began to screech and wail, the Boatswain paced the floor,
When suddenly the Captain cried, “Be calm! Like the Commodore!”

The racket stopped; the ship was struck by silence, still and soft,
While forty eyes turned upward to that cabin far aloft.
And there above them, looking down, the men could faintly see,
The placid face of the Commodore, as calm as he could be.

“Oh, see how calm,” the Captain said, “The Commodore appears.
He weeps not, neither does he wail. He has no childish fears!
His placid eye rebukes us all, and seems to say, ‘For shame!
You are sailors of the Buttercup; be worthy of the name!’

“Gaze on that noble face, my men, no fear will you detect.
He has no craven cowardice, he’s a man of Intellect!”
A wave of courage swept the crew that they’d never felt before,
And with one accord they gave three cheers! Three cheers for the Commodore!

The men began to laugh and talk, and some began to sing,
And one man stuck his tongue out at the dim and misty Thing.
The Captain chid them gently, and remarked with impish rue,
That they’d better stop and think a bit; and figure what to do.

The First Mate said in a loud, clear voice that, as far as he could see,
It seemed to him, that is, if all was what it seemed to be,
In case the circumstances changed, there still remained a question.
And the Crew was lost in thought a while, considering his suggestion.

When suddenly the Captain cried, “We’re not unarmed, you know!
Let’s load the gun and fire it at this Thing to show it so!”
With a hearty cheer the men leaped up and rushed to load the gun,
Happily shouting that now, by gosh, they’d have a bit of fun.

Powder was brought; the gun was cleaned, the primer hole was fused,
The Third Mate chuckled happily, and the Captain was amused.
When suddenly a horrible fact was noticed by them all –
They had forty pounds of powder, but they didn’t have a ball!

Despair set in; the men all moaned in misery, dark and dismal.
But the Engineer shed a ray of light into the night abysmal.
A dour Scot, MacWhack by name, the men had always banned him,
For he spoke with such an accent, they could hardly understand him.

But now he spoke the sentence that would change his life forever,
For the men all changed towards him then, and thought him wise and clever.
“Hoo weel ye ken,” he started in, “A hae na ony worrk,
Gin yon vessel has nae engines. But A didnae wush tae shirrrrk,

“Sae A has spint ma worrrrkin’ time preparing ferrrr tha day,
When we shud hae an engine – and on this A spint ma pay. (This is a lie.)
A hae a stock o’ engine parrrrts, and gin ye’ll but gang doon,
An get them, ye kin load yerrrr gun; they’rrr back abaft aboon.”

With another cheer, the men rushed down, and soon came running back,
With buckets full of bolts and parts, and other engine tack.
They fetched the keg of powder out and, pulling out the stopper,
They dumped it all into the gun, to do the job up proper.

Then they began to fill it up with ratchets, gears and cams,
Nuts and valves and boiler plate, with piston rods for rams.
They packed it full and rammed it tight, so it wouldn’t spray out loose,
And the Captain struck a safety match, and touched it to the fuse.

The men all watched as he lit the fuse, with open admiration,
And then they stared at the sizzling fuse, in eerie fascination.
The fuse burnt down to the primer’s hold, and then there came a roar,
A flash of light and a gout of smoke, like they’d never seen before!

And when the smoke had blown away, the men looked aft and cheered,
For the misty, terrifying Thing had completely disappeared.
They walked off laughing happily, with many a merry jest,
And hied themselves to the Fo’c’s’l, to get some well-earned rest.

But, strange to tell, and sad to say, when came the dim, grey dawn,
The Captain peered behind the ship with a face both pale and drawn.
The silent men lined up beside in horrified, sickening shock,
For they’d never cast the hawsers off, and the ship was tied to the dock!

They’d raised the sails and weighed the anchor perfectly, it’s true,
But none had thought to loose the ship, they’d had so much to do.
And the dim, great Thing they’d shot at when they thought they were at sea,
Was the handsome brownstone building which had housed the Admiralty!

The Captain and Crew all shivered and shook, with a nauseating qualm,
But the Commodore, as always, was serene, unruffled, and calm.
Upon his changeless face there showed no signs of doubts or fears,
For the crew had never noticed, he’d been dead for fourteen years.

By David W. Donaldson

[Doc Vernon]

Marian
That was good and I must say is possibly for me anyway one of the longest I have read !
Cheers

[Captain Kong]

I wonder who Ghost writ that...
.
Excellent Marian,
Now you have me scared, I am sailing on a Friday and not only that But the 13th of February on the same ship I nearly died on last year when we also sailed on a Friday. What chance have I got.??
Cheers
B rian.

[cappy]

i guess better than evens brian ......but just to cover the bet get a berth on the boat deck.....and if the old man is an eytie just stand by his boat youll be ist off ,,,,,remember when he falls ito the boat ....faint and fall in together.....but make sure your on top .....dont trust them eyties......so keep cheeks nipped together regards cappy

[gray_marian]

#3, 'What chance have I got.??'.............Ever chance Brian! Hope you both have a great trip

[Fouro]

I liked your little post Cappy, quite funny. Speaking about eyeties, during the war there was a large POW Camp situated less than a mile from our village. At first it was occupied by German POW's and when they were moved out, the camp was reoccupied by Italian POW's. The camp from then onwards was always known as the "Tally Camp". The Germans and the Eyeties were always friendly towards us kids when they were working in fields near the village. They used to lift us up on top of their shoulders and give us little keepsakes. Many years have passed since then, but I still remember them clearly.
Log on to Castle Rankine POW Camp as I am sure you will find it an interesting read.

FOURO

[cappy]

thats intresting to me fouro as i visited during the war and in fact lived with my granny in a village called butterknowle in durham and the prisoners definately eytie and possibly german walked past the house and i recall my granny fleeing out to fetch me in and saying dont look .....which of course only made me want to look more........but my happy memory was waiting for my granda coming home from sea .....of which he would bring a large tin of jam ...i would race down the st and ask him have you got any granda ......he would tease me but always came up with goodies and also butter in a tin .......ihave put this on the site...before but i later courted a girl...whose father was mined on a ship my granda was on .....theguy was an ABand my granda was 2nd mate......sadly my girlfriends father was lost ......my granda blown into the water but survived.......she was a fine girl .....our relationship was in 1956 57 58........and i never new till years later our kin had been together on the ss halo........when i made enquiries to find her in shields sadly she had passed ononly a short time before so sadly i could not give her the news that our families had been shipmates.......such is life....regards cappy

[Charlie Hannah]

I liked your little post Cappy, quite funny. Speaking about eyeties, during the war there was a large POW Camp situated less than a mile from our village. At first it was occupied by German POW's and when they were moved out, the camp was reoccupied by Italian POW's. The camp from then onwards was always known as the "Tally Camp". The Germans and the Eyeties were always friendly towards us kids when they were working in fields near the village. They used to lift us up on top of their shoulders and give us little keepsakes. Many years have passed since then, but I still remember them clearly.


Log on to Castle Rankine POW Camp as I am sure you will find it an interesting read.

FOURO

FOURO I was moved with my family to Huyton during the war we were bombed out three times,we lived in one of the houses that were taken over from the army camp the remaining camp was just a very short distance to our back yard were prisoners of war was kept,one particular night my brother John who was on leave from the Royal Navy (convecence )Shouted my dad ,Dad some ones trying to break in we had best get down there quick,all they found was the dog who had a big patch of cloth in his mouth,off a uniform. Germans were in the camp at the bottom end and Eyeties further along. My Dad recons he was probably after some of his veggies out of the garden. Our house was in Belton Road.

[Dennis McGuckin]

I remember when I was a kid during the war.My mam used to send me off picking spuds at a near by farm.
Italian POWs were there, as well as the Land Army girls.
That was my first introduction to why men and woman were different.
Such goings on!
By the way. My pay for working all day.
One pail of spuds to take home.
Some Bl**dy school holiday.