Willin'
03-23-2004, 10:50 AM
People ask me,
“Why aren’t you climbing the corporate ladder?”
“Makin’ insurance agents and their bank accounts fatter,”
“Whatever happened to your ambition?”
My ambition is to just go fishin’ off
The back of a sailboat, reachin’ for ports unknown.
(chorus)
So haul up the anchor,
Hoist up the main,
Get the pointy end pointed to another
Southern Sea horizon again.
We ain’t gonna go,
Where cocoanuts don’t grow.
Put the North Star at your back,
You’ll be right on track for Lattitude Zero,
Haul up the anchor.
Haul up the anchor.
People say “Keep your eye on the ballAnd your nose to the grindstone.
You’ll die with more toys
Than anyone else owns.”
But you can’t own what God gives away.
The sun and the sea and the wind and the waves,
Are there for the takin’
It just means breakin’ away.
(repeat chorus)
People say I need a
Three car garage and a bed of begonias
I’m fallin’ behind in my race with the Joneses.
But the winner of a rat race is always a rat,
And the only thing that I can think to do about that is…
Haul up the anchor,
Hoist up the main,
Get the pointy end pointed to another
Southern Sea horizon again.
We ain’t gonna go,
Where cocoanuts don’t grow.
Just get the North Star at your back,
You’ll be right on track for Lattitude Zero,
Haul up the anchor.
Haul up the anchor.
Lyrics by Ken Gill
Some while ago we were waiting in a beach bar on Beef Island in the BVI for the last crew member to arrive for a week of bareboating. We were the only customers so the bartender sat down near us with a guitar and sang that song with a killer melody, which was the perfect kickoff tune for the trip.
As the afternoon progressed the guy (who was also the waiter, busboy and cook as well as the entertainment) would come back periodically and grace us with more original tunes, many with nautical or cruising themes (It's blowin' a hooley outside was a good one)and more that were just plain funny as hell. By the time the dinner crowd started filtering in we could sing back every word of his song about how having "Blue commode water" makes us upper class ;)
It was too hot, calm, humid and drunk out to get underway that afternoon so we stayed the evening singing along and spent the night on the hook in Trellis Bay. We all woke up the next morning looking and feeling a little shakey, but what a great way to start a week of tropical cruising.
It was 8 F this AM when I woke up. You'll forgive me a little daydreaming I hope.
“Why aren’t you climbing the corporate ladder?”
“Makin’ insurance agents and their bank accounts fatter,”
“Whatever happened to your ambition?”
My ambition is to just go fishin’ off
The back of a sailboat, reachin’ for ports unknown.
(chorus)
So haul up the anchor,
Hoist up the main,
Get the pointy end pointed to another
Southern Sea horizon again.
We ain’t gonna go,
Where cocoanuts don’t grow.
Put the North Star at your back,
You’ll be right on track for Lattitude Zero,
Haul up the anchor.
Haul up the anchor.
People say “Keep your eye on the ballAnd your nose to the grindstone.
You’ll die with more toys
Than anyone else owns.”
But you can’t own what God gives away.
The sun and the sea and the wind and the waves,
Are there for the takin’
It just means breakin’ away.
(repeat chorus)
People say I need a
Three car garage and a bed of begonias
I’m fallin’ behind in my race with the Joneses.
But the winner of a rat race is always a rat,
And the only thing that I can think to do about that is…
Haul up the anchor,
Hoist up the main,
Get the pointy end pointed to another
Southern Sea horizon again.
We ain’t gonna go,
Where cocoanuts don’t grow.
Just get the North Star at your back,
You’ll be right on track for Lattitude Zero,
Haul up the anchor.
Haul up the anchor.
Lyrics by Ken Gill
Some while ago we were waiting in a beach bar on Beef Island in the BVI for the last crew member to arrive for a week of bareboating. We were the only customers so the bartender sat down near us with a guitar and sang that song with a killer melody, which was the perfect kickoff tune for the trip.
As the afternoon progressed the guy (who was also the waiter, busboy and cook as well as the entertainment) would come back periodically and grace us with more original tunes, many with nautical or cruising themes (It's blowin' a hooley outside was a good one)and more that were just plain funny as hell. By the time the dinner crowd started filtering in we could sing back every word of his song about how having "Blue commode water" makes us upper class ;)
It was too hot, calm, humid and drunk out to get underway that afternoon so we stayed the evening singing along and spent the night on the hook in Trellis Bay. We all woke up the next morning looking and feeling a little shakey, but what a great way to start a week of tropical cruising.
It was 8 F this AM when I woke up. You'll forgive me a little daydreaming I hope.