This is the fishing vessel Atlantic Endeavour, blown ashore near Cow Head, Newfoundland in 2011. It was caught in a severe storm and struck a rocky shoal. The two man crew were rescued by helicopter.
Looking at the records, hundreds of ships have come to grief around the Canadian coast and in the past many communities regarded spoils from these tragedies as fair game – as have seaside folk all over the world. The original poem by Theodore Goodridge Roberts (1877 – 1953) was written in dialect and paints a grim but realistic picture of attitudes to wrecks among Newfoundlanders a hundred or so years ago.
I have re-written the poem, omitting out-dated words, and generally making it more accessible (I hope). By the way, Show of Hands quote part of the poem in their song of the same name – but I didn’t get the idea from them. My starting point was the ‘oh, oh, oh,’ chorus section – then I went to my trusty Billy the Kid – ‘an anthology of tough verse’ edited by Michael Baldwin and found Roberts’ poem. It’s not surprising Show of Hands also chose this – as I’ve discovered before, good material is recognised by others too. Incidentally, Steve Knightly has returned to the wreckers’ theme in other songs (that is, people who salvage goods along the shoreline rather than those who use lights intended to lure ships onto rocks).
THE WRECKERS’ PRAYER – MB © 2014
God of reefs and tides and sky, see our need and hear our cry.
Bread in the bag and beef in the cask, ease our bellies is all we ask.
C: Oh, oh, oh. Give us a wreck! Oh Lord, give us a wreck.
Give us a wreck we pray good Lord, and we will shout ‘Man overboard!’
Winters here in Newfoundland, chill the bones of beast or man.
Give us a wreck we humbly pray, no harm done but who can say.
Mighty storms along this coast, come and go like the holy ghost
Give us a wreck or maybe two, just enough to see us through.
Till Spring starts up like a brand new day, and fish swim back into the bay.
Loud and long we’ll sing your praise, merciful Father till the end of days.
Master of fog and tide and reef, give as a wreck to stem our grief.
THE WRECKERS’ PRAYER © Theodore Goodridge Roberts
Give us a wrack or two, Good Lard,
For winter in Tops’il Tickle bes hard,
Wild grey frost creepin’ like mortal sin
And perishin’ lack of bread in the bin.
A grand, rich wrack, us do humbly pray,
Busted abroad at the break o’ day
An’ hove clear in ‘crost Tops’il Reef,
Wid victuals an’ gear to beguile our grief.
God of reefs an’ tides an’ sky,Heed
Ye our need an’ hark to our cry!
Bread by the bag an’ beef by the cask.
Ease for sore bellies bes all we ask.
One grand wrack–or maybe two?
Wid gear an’ victuals to see through’
Til Spring starts up like the leap of day
An’ the fish strike back into Tops’il Bay.
One rich wrack–for Thy hand bes strong!
A barque or a brig from up-along
Bemused by Thy twisty tides, O Lard!
For winter in Tops’il Tickle bes hard.
Loud an’ long will us sing Yer praise,
Marciful Fadder, O Ancient of Days,
Master of fog an’ tide an’ reef!
Heave us a wrack to beguile our grief. Amen.