'All hands on deck, [bad word] afloat!' 
I heard the captain cry
'Explore the ship, replace the cook: 
let no one leave alive!'

Across the straits, around the Horn: 
how far can sailors fly?
twisted path, our tortured course, 
and no one left alive

We sailed for parts unknown to man, 
where [bad word] home to die
No lofty peak, nor fortress bold, 
could match our captain's eye

Upon the seventh seasick day 
we made our port of call
sand so white, and sea so blue, 
no mortal place at all

We fired the gun, and burnt the mast, 
and rowed from ship to shore
The captain cried, we sailors wept: 
our tears were tears of joy

Now many moons and many Junes 
have passed since we made land
salty dog, this seaman's log: 
your witness my own hand