The Race of Sal and Sue

Did you ever hear of the wonderful race of the clippers the Sal and Sue?

How they sailed away on a bright June day with a special mate and crew;

The skippers they loved the same sweet lass, the widow of Thomas Tripp,

And the widow had said that she would wed the one with the fastest ship.

“You must sail to the Golden Gate,” say she, “and the one who first returns

I will give my hand and my house and land and the love that in me burns.”

So they cried, “Yo ho!” and they cried “Yo he!” and they worked from dawn till late,

And they picked their crew for the Sal and Sue and sailed for the Golden Gate.

The widow she watched them sail away and   waved until lost from view,

Then she shed a tear for the ones held dear on the clippers Sal and Sue;

While the ships ran out of the choppy bay like balls from a cannon’s mouth,

And they cried “Yo ho!” and they cried “Yo he!” as they headed for West by South.

Now the Cap’ns who owned the Sal and Sue were skippers of muscle and brain,

And they never had met defeat as yet on the   wild and salty main;

So they lashed ‘em close and they bossed their men as they headed for old Cape Horn,

And the seas rolled high and the shores flew by as the clippers sped seaward-on.

Jinks was the captain of the Sal, and Jenks of the clipper Sue,

And their fists they shook as they had a look as long as they kept in view.

But Jinks had a dodge right up his sleeve – when they neared old Panama

He ran his ship on the sandy strip, and he laughed a loud “ha ha!”

Then he took some wheels from out the hold and he put ‘em ‘neath the keel,

And they pulled that boat o’er the sandy moat like she was a slip’ry eel.

And he cried “Yo ho!” and he cried “Yo he!” as he sailed for the Golden Gate,

And he beat the Sue by a week or two and he oiled the crew and mate.

Then he started back, and he tried once more to cross with the wheels beneath

When his tires went flat as a Dutchman’s hat, caused by a crocodile’s teeth.

And he couldn’t move so he staid right there on the isthmus of Panama,

And the Sue came past and espied her mast, and Jenks laughed a loud “ha ha!”

And the Sue kept on for the old home town, but a league off bold Cape May;

A big black whale lay across her trail, and questioned the right o’ way.

The captain raved and the captain swore, and then threw a harpoon, by heck!

The whale caught the bar in his smiling jaw, and tossed it back on the deck.

Then he dove right under the clipper Sue, and he took her on his back,

And he shook his tail with an awful wail and made for the arctic track.

And the captain raved and the captain swore but the whale kept on his way,

And he dumped that boat on an icy moat to the north of Baffin’s Bay.

And the widow Tripp who had shed a tear when they left for the Golden Gate?

Why she gave her hand and her house and her land to a non-seafaring skate.

She was wed ere they reached the Golden Gate, she was fickle, as widows be;

I may be wrong, but I put it strong in the way ‘twas told to me.

And what became of the skippers two who sailed in the Sal and Sue?

One married a squaw at Pana-“maw”, as cap’ns are prone to do;

The other married an Eskimo, and sits on the ice all day,

And thinks of his ship, and the widow Tripp who’s waiting for him this day.

And what of the fickle Widow Tripp? She weeps in the evening gloam,

She married a dub in the Jiboom Club, who never spends nights at home.

And they cry “Yo ho!” and they cry “Yo he!” with never a laugh nor smile;

Jenks curses the whale with its fiery tale, while Jinks damns the crocodile.

    

                                                                                 

Feb. 19, 1918