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Indian Harbour, Labrador - September 17, 2005

When you think of Indian Harbour, can‘t you still hear Mike Earle singing?

Jack Was Every Inch a Sailor

Now, 'twas twenty-five or thirty years since Jack first saw the light,
He came into this world of woe one dark and stormy night;
He was born on board his father's ship as she was lying to,
'Bout twenty-five of thirty miles southeast of Bacalieu.

Jack was every inch a sailor,
Five and twenty years a whaler;
Jack was every inch a sailor,
He was born upon the bright blue sea.

When Jack grew up to be a man he went to Labrador,
He fished in Indian Harbour where his father fished before;
On his returning in the fog he met a heavy gale,
And Jack was swept into the sea and swallowed by a whale.


The whale went straight for Baffin Bay, 'bout ninety knots an hour,
And every time he'd blow a spray he'd send it in a shower,
Oh, now, says Jack unto himself, I'll see what he's about,
He got the whale all by the tail and turned him inside out.


Relaxing on the softest bed imaginable

Continue to Day 11 - Goose Bay

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© Copyright 2005 Peter Jennings. All rights reserved.