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WHALE CHASING MEN - Songs of Whaling in Ice and Sun by Harry Robertson (2001)

Harry Robertson (1923-1995) was a native Glaswegian who immigrated to Australia in 1952, worked during 1950-51 as an engineer with the Norwegian whaling fleet in the Antarctic and wintered over at South Georgia.  He became a seminal influence in the Australian folk movement of the 1960s and made the above-titled LP in 1971.  Through the efforts of his widow and friends, the LP was released on CD in 2001 by Australia’s National Screen & Sound Archive as its first folk reissue.  Through spoken introductions and instrumental accompaniments, the songs and chanteys mince no words about the gruesome, hard scenes of the whaling experience and Antarctic references abound.  The lyrics of the Antarctic track, The Antarctic Fleet, are: “I went down south a-whaling, to the land of ice and snow, And eight-and-twenty pounds a month, was all I had to show, For being on a little ship like sardine in a can, And eating salty pork and beef, they stewed up in a pan. Chorus: Heigh-ho! Whale-oh, Wi’ the Antarctic fleet, I’ve got a drip upon me nose and I’m frozen in the feet. South Georgia is an island, it is a Whaling Base, And only men in search of whales, would go to such a place, No entertainment does exist unless you make home brew, Then we would have some singing and, we’d have some fighting too. Our gunner came from Norway, like many of the crew, And others spoke wi’ Scottish tongues, as Whalers often do, But when the ship was closing in to make the bloody kill, The Scotsmen and Norwegians worked together with a will. We sailed down to the Weddell Sea where the big Blues can be found, We chased between the icebergs and, we chased them round and round, And when they couldn’t run no more, and fought to draw their breath, Our gunners shot harpoons in them, till they floated still in death. For months we sailed the ocean, and wearied with the toil, Of slaughter and of killing just to get that smelly oil, And when the savage storms blew and snow kept falling down, I often wished that I was back, in dear old Glasgow town. It’s twenty years since I’ve been there, and I won’t go there again, I didn’t like the climate but, I liked the Whaling Men, And even in the sunshine now, when I walk along the street, I’ve got a drip upon me nose, and I’ve still got frozen feet.” ScreenSound Australia CD/SSA/WC0022; www.nfsa.afc.gov.au; (See also FOLKLORIC RECORDING: Folk Songs Sung by Harry Robertson and Don Henderson (1967) in the “Individual Songs” category below.)

 

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