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Racing Clippers / Race of Long Ago

[ Roud - ; Mudcat 54008 ; Cicely Fox Smith]

Racing Clippers (A Wool Fleet Memory) is a poem by Cicely Fox Smith. It was first published in Punch Magazine, Volume 173, 13 July 1927, p. 36 and was included in 1931 in her book From Sailor’s Delight (London: Methuen & Co.).

Bob Roberts sang Race of Long Ago on his 1981 album Breeze for a Bargeman. He tersely noted:

Memories of an old sailor.

Roy Harris sang When We Raced the Robin Adair in 1985 on his Fellside album Utter Simplicity. He noted:

The late Bob Roberts, old time sailing skipper, author and traditional singer sings this on his album, Breeze for a Bargeman, but I first heard it from Jim Jewell of the Isle of Wight at a session at the local folk club. Jim is a mighty voiced singer and he sang it with terrific relish. I loved it straight away—especially the line “Up from the South with a bone in her mouth”. I have always enjoyed Bob Roberts’ singing for its straight forward honesty and I recommend it to anyone. Even though I’ve altered a few words in the song I still sing it with thanks to Jim, and in tribute to Bob.

Dave Webber and Anni Fentiman sang Race of Long Ago in 2002 on their Old and New Tradition album Away From It All. They noted:

Cicely Fox Smith is ever more popular for her wonderful poems. This one she entitled Racing Clippers. It came to us from the repertoire of Bob Roberts, Bargeman and traditional singer from. Bob’s words were a little changed from the original poem and he said he got the song from an engineer he worked alongside. We have changed the words a little again to make them more acceptable in modern times.

The New Scorpion Band sang The Race of Long Ago on their 2004 CD Out on the Ocean. Tim Laycock noted:

Also known as The Robin Adair, this song started life as a poem written by Cicely Fox Smith. I learnt it from the singing of Bob Roberts, and it’s likely that Bob also made the splendid tune. Time and the folk process seem to have reduced the duration of the passage of a wool clipper from Australia to the Port of London from 89 to 49 days, something even the Cutty Sark could not have achieved!

Mike Warman from Cornwall sang The Race of Long Ago at a concert celebrating the life and work of Cicely Fox Smith at Bow Congregational Church, Devon on 21 June 2014. The concert’s recording was published in 2015 on the double CD Celebrating Cicely. The album’s booklet noted:

The original Cicely Fox Smith poem titled Racing Clippers (A Wool Fleet Memory) was published in Punch on 13 July 1927. After 1870, as the Suez Canal and steam vessels ended the tea trade race for clippers, some plied the wool trade between Britain and Australia. Adapted by Bob Roberts of Watchet.

Lyrics

Cicely Fox Smith’s poem Racing Clippers (A Wool Fleet Memory)

I’ve not made much o’ my life, Lord knows;
I’m a has-been through an’ through,
An’ meanin’ ’s as far as I’ve mostly got
With the things as I’ve meant to do;
Of muckin’ my chances and blowin’ my pay
I reckon I’ve had my share,
But—I was one of the Clansman’s crowd
When she raced the Robin Adair.

There was Dan an’ Clancy an’ Liverpool Bill –
An’ they were the pick of the lot –
An’ a Glasgow lad as skenned like mad,
But his name I’ve clean forgot;
A big buck nigger an’ a cross-eyed Swede,
An’ a feller from County Clare –
Them was the chaps in the starboard watch
When we raced the Robin Adair.

An’ Dan was lost off the topsail yard
O’ the Pole Star years ago,
An’ Clancy died with a knife in his side
In a dive in Callao;
An’ Bill he’s married and livin’ ashore,
An’ the rest of ’em’s Lord knows where,
As I sailed with once in the Clansman’s crowd
When we raced the Robin Adair.

Neck an’ neck to the Snares we was,
An’ then it started to blow,
An’ soon the Clansman was reelin’ ’em off
A steady seventeen or so,
An’ the skipper grinned as he paced the poop,
For that was the weather for her,
An’ “Ah ’m thenkin’ we’ve seen the last,” says he,
“O’ their wonderful Robin Adair!”

But there come a time as we climbed the Trade,
The day was just begun
When we sighted a ship hull down astern
An’ comin’ along like fun,
An’ the Old Man clapped his glass to his eye,
An’ you should ha’ heard him swear,
For out o’ the South with a bone in her mouth
Up romps the Robin Adair.

We started pilin’ the canvas on,
And it ’ad to stop there too;
It was breezin’ up when we sighted ’er first,
An’ afore it was dark it blew!
I’ve seen some carryin’ on in my time
But I tell you he made me stare
Crackin’ it on in the Biscay gales
To beat the Robin Adair.

But we made the London river at last –
It was twelve by St. George’s clock,
I counted the chimes as we made her fast
To the buoys in the London Dock –
An’ we’d won the race from the width o’ the world
With the tail of a tide to spare –
That was the way of it, long ago,
When we raced the Robin Adair!

The grand ol’ ship’s been gone to chips
This fourteen year and more;
They sold ’er away to a Dago bunch,
An’ the blighters run ’er ashore;
An’ somewheres round by the Ramirees
An’ south o’ the Straits o’ Le Maire,
With the fishes cruisin’ among her ribs,
Lies drowned the Robin Adair.

There ain’t no racin’ clippers now,
Nor never will be again,
And most o’ the ships are gone by now,
The same as most o’ the men,
An’ nobody left but a few old shells
Like us in the world to care
For the great ol’ skippers an’ the great ol’ ships
An’ the great ol’ days they were,
And the way they had in the Wool Fleet once
When we raced the Robin Adair.

Dave Webber and Anni Fentiman sing Race of Long Ago

Now I’ve never done much good in my time
I’ve been a waster through and through.
And the only things that I’ve ever done
Was the things I wanted to do.
Like blowing my chances and wasting my pay
Of these things I’ve had my share
But I was one of the Clansman’s crowd
When we raced the Robin Adair.

There was a big tough Scouser and a cockeyed Swede
And a kid from the County Clare
And we made up the starboard watch
When we raced the Robin Adair.

Murphy fell from a topsail yard
In the Pole Star years ago.
And Clancy died with a knife in his side
In a bar in Callao.
Bill got married and settled down
And the rest are God knows where.
But that was all so long ago
When we raced the Robin Adair.

We was yardarm to yardarm in Sidney Head
And then she started to blow.
And soon the Clansman was reeling them off
At fifteen knots or so.
The old man grinned as he faced the wind,
Saying, “This is the weather for her.”
“My lads,” he cried, “You’ve seen the last
Of the wonderful Robin Adair!”

Til early one morning when the sun arose
And the day had just begun.
We spied a ship hauled down astern
And a-coming along like fun.
The old man swept his glass to his eye
And you should have heard him swear
For up from the south with a bone in her mouth
There came the Robin Adair.

So we started piling the canvas on
And it had to stay there, too.
’Twas a fair old breeze in the morning time
But, by God, that night it blew.
I’ve seen some strange things in my time
But it surely made me swear.
Crackin on sail in a Biscay gale
Just to beat the Robin Adair.

Now we made the London river at last
By twelve of the Wapping clock.
I counted the chimes as we tied her up
To the buoys in the London dock.
We made that race in sixtynine days
With a tale of a time to spare
But that was all so long ago
When we raced the Robin Adair.

Now these old ships have gone to chips
Nigh fourty year or more.
She was sold away to a foreign bunch
And the blighters they run her ashore.
But somewhere south of the Ramirees
And north of the Straits Le Maire
With the fishes cruising around her ribs
There lies the Robin Adair.