Songs of the Sea

Mingulay Boat Song

by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

By Hugh S. Roberton, founder of the Glasgow Orpheus Choir

Heel yo ho, boys; let her go, boys;
Bring her head round, into the weather,
Hill you ho, boys,let her go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay

What care we though, white the Minch is?
What care we for wind or weather?
Let her go boys; every inch is
Sailing homeward to Mingulay.

Wives are waiting, by the pier head,
Or looking seaward, from the heather;
Pull her round, boys, then you’ll anchor
‘Ere the sun sets on Mingulay.

Ships return now, heavy laden
Mothers holdin’ bairns a-cryin
They’ll return, though, when the sun sets
They’ll return to Mingulay.

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Source: Mainly Norfolk

Mingulay Boat Song

[Hugh S. Roberton]

Sir Hugh Roberton (1874-1952) was conductor of the famous Orpheus Choir of Glasgow for which he made many choral arrangements of Scots songs. He also published Songs of the Isles (1950), a collection of traditional tunes for which he invented English words. Mairi’s Wedding (the Lewis Bridal Song),Westering Home and the Mingulay Boat Song were all popularised by Roberton and they remain perennial favourites.

The remote, barren island of Mingulay lies to the south of Barra in the Western Isles. Sometimes referred to as ‘the nearer St Kilda’, it was a crofting and fishing community of about 160 people until 1912. Isolation, infertile land, lack of a proper landing place and the absentee landlord problems familiar to the Western Isles and Highlands, resulted in a gradual disintegration of Mingulay’s culture. The process of voluntary evacuation began in 1907 with land raids by the impoverished crofters to the neighbouring island of Vatersay, and Mingulay is now completely deserted. But summer visitors to Barra regularly brave the two-hour journey in exposed seas from Castlebay to Mingulay, inspired by Roberton’s evocative but sentimental song, which has no connection with either the island or its people.

Robin Hall and Jimmie MacGregor with The Galliards sang Mingulay Boat Song in 1961 on their Decca album Scottish Choice.

Paddy Hernon of Vancouver sang Mingulay Boat Song at the Seattle Chantey Festival during the American Sail Training Association’s 1978 Tall Ships Pacific. This was published a year later on the Folkways album Sea Songs Seattle.

Welsh comedian and singer Max Boyce MBE sang Mingulay Boat Song in 1981 on his album It’s Good to See You.

The Australian Band Lyrical Folkus sang Mingulay Boat Song in 1999 on their album The Persimmon Tree.

Richard Thompson sang Mingulay Boat Song in 2006 on the theme album Rogue’s Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs & Chanteys.

Grace Notes sang Northern Ride / Mingulay Boat Song in 2007 as the title track of their Fellside CD Northern Tide. This track was also included in 2012 on their anniversary CD 20. Lynda Hardcastle commented in their liner notes:

I’ve been singing this beautiful song in the bath for year. It’s yet another sea song! When we were rehearsing Linda Kelly’s Northern Tide it naturally flowed into Mingulay. It’s a song with a fantastic chorus that seems to resonate with folkies everywhere.

This YouTube video shows Grace Notes at the Ram Club, Thames Ditton, Surrey, in February 2011:

David Gibb and Elly Lucas were nominees for the BBC Radio 2 Young Folk Awards 2011. Their Mingulay Boat Song was included on the anthology BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards 2011.

Lyrics

Grace Notes sing Mingulay Boat Song Richard Thompson sings Mingulay Boat Song
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let her go, boys!
Bring her head round, and all together.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let her go, boys,
Sailing homeward to Mingulay.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let him go, boys!
Heave ahead, round and into the weather,
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let him go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay.
What care we though, white the Minch is?
What care we for wind or weather?
Pull her round, boys, every inch is
Heading homeward to Mingulay.
What care we though, white the Minch is?
What care we, boys, for windy weather?
When we know that every inch is
Closer homeward to Mingulay.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let her go, boys!
Bring her head round, and all together.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let her go, boys,
Sailing homeward to Mingulay.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let him go, boys!
Heave ahead, round and into the weather,
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let him go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay.
Wives are waiting by the harbour,
looking seaward from the heather;
Let her go, boys! And we’ll anchor
‘Ere the sun sets on Mingulay.
Wives are waiting at the pier head,
Gazing seaward from the heather;
Heave her head round and we’ll anchor
‘Ere the sun sets on Mingulay.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let her go, boys!
Bring her head round, and all together.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let her go, boys,
Sailing homeward to Mingulay.
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let him go, boys!
Heave ahead, round, into the weather,
Hill-yo-ho, boys! Let him go, boys
Sailing homeward to Mingulay,
Sailing homeward to Mingulay.

Links

See also the Mudcat Café thread Mingulay Boat Song’s Minch ??? , from which I also copied the first two paragraphs of text.

More Links…

  • You’ll never go wrong checking out Mudcat.org 

Performances, Workshops,
Resources & Recordings

The American Folk Experience is dedicated to collecting and curating the most enduring songs from our musical heritage.  Every performance and workshop is a celebration and exploration of the timeless songs and stories that have shaped and formed the musical history of America. John Fitzsimmons has been singing and performing these gems of the past for the past forty years, and he brings a folksy warmth, humor and massive repertoire of songs to any occasion. 

Festivals & Celebrations
Coffeehouses
School Assemblies
Library Presentations
Songwriting Workshops
Artist in Residence
House Concerts
Pub Singing
Irish & Celtic Performances
Poetry Readings
Campfires

Music Lessons
Senior Centers
Voiceovers & Recording

“Beneath the friendly charisma is the heart of a purist gently leading us from the songs of our lives to the timeless traditional songs he knows so well…”

 

Globe Magazine

Join Fitz
at The Colonial Inn

“The Nobel Laureate of New England Pub Music…”

Scott Alaric

Adventures in the Modern Folk Underground

On the Green, in Concord, MA
Every Thursday Night
for over thirty years…

 

“A Song Singing, Word Slinging, Story Swapping,
Ballad Mongering, Folksinger, Teacher, & Poet…”

Theo Rogue

Songcatcher Rag

Contact Fitz!

Fitz’s Recordings

& Writings

Songs, poems, essays, reflections and ramblings of a folksinger, traveler, teacher, poet and thinker…

Download for free from the iTunes Bookstore

“A Master of Folk…”

The Boston Globe

Fitz’s now classic recording of original songs and poetry…

Download from the iTunes Music Store

“A Masterful weaver of song whose deep, resonant voice rivals the best of his genre…”

Spirit of Change Magazine

Campfire: The Greatest Camp Songs of all Time

 

“2003: Best Children’s Music Recording of the Year…”

Boston Parent's Paper

Fitz & The Salty Dawgs
Amazing music, good times and good friends…

Listen here

“When the eyes rest on the soul…that’s Fitzy…”

Lenny Megliola

WEEI Radio

TheCraftedWord.org

Writing help

when you need it…

The Teacher’s Couch

It’s not just a couch; it’s a sofa, too ~Fitz           I remember my first year teaching at Fenn—and it was really my first stint as a true worker with responsibilities outside of what I already had in my wheelhouse—and on this day, some twenty something years ago, I...

What Are We Afraid Of?

Good intentions are easily hobbled by inaction. There has always been a murky and muddied No Mans Land in every war where the evil and the righteous trade the moral high ground. This is not the case in Ukraine. Putin’s actions are evil--pure, unmitigated, unprovoked...

China Journal: Part Three

III My teachers could have ridden with Jesse James For all the time they stole from me... ~Richard Brautigan, Trout Fishing in America      Today it was a temple built into the mountainside west of West Lake. Mr. Toe drove us out there. In most ways I just follow Rob...

What a Picture Tells

"Zou Ma Guan Hua" You can't ride a horse and smell the flowers ~Chinese Proverb Sometimes I love just browsing through old folders of pictures of my kids when they were just kids in every sense of the word. Just seeing the pictures is a visceral experience for me as I...

Eighteen Years

At midnight I hear the cuckoo clock chiming from it’s perch in a cluttered kitchen locked in cadence with the tower bell gonging this old mill town at midnight to a deeper sleep, like a call to prayer reminding me that this new day, starting in the dark of a hallowed...

A Redemptive Moment

I see the clock ticking towards 7:00. The kids are deep in their weekday world of homework, juggling soccer balls around the house, watching TV, but I am in my “got to rally” and get to the inn mode that happens very Thursday. Tonight I am tired. I’ll admit it, but...

Thanksgiving

I am surprised sometimes by the suddenness of November: beauty abruptly shed to a common nakedness— grasses deadened by hoarfrost, persistent memories of people I’ve lost. It is left to those of us dressed in the hard barky skin of experience to insist on a decorum...

The Philanthropy of Maynard

 I woke up today with chores on my mind. My buddy Josh LoPresti lent me his woodsplitter, and I had dreams of a mindless day splitting wood and heaving it into a pile for my kids to stack along the fence. But the dryer was broken, and it needed to be fixed. Margret's...

Another Day…

I've been somewhat lax about posting in here of late, but I have been giving myself a bit of a break from writing. In fact, I spent the last month or so just living--and that has been just fine with me. I set a simple goal for myself this summer to get in shape. PJ...

The Litter in Concord

I have been following a Facebook thread about the movement in my beloved hometown of Concord to ban plastic water bottles, plastic bags and styrofoam cups. I am trying to discern whether or not my initial responses are pure and true and not simply reactionary and...

Joshua Sawyer Podcast

Garden Woman

I woke today and had my tea
and at the window spent the morning:
the same scene I’ve seen so many times
is each day freshly born;
from the ground I turn each spring and fall
come the flowers sweetly blooming;
you disappear among the weeds—
you are the garden woman.

Dad

Moaning like a lost whale the thin ice bellowed behind us then cracked and rang as if spit from a whip. The sharp steel of my over-sized skates etched unspeakable joy into the slate-grey, reptilian skin of Walden Pond. Our mismatched hands gripped together in the...

The Storm of Fallibility

       One good cigar is better than two bad cigars, or so it seems right now. It is a beautiful and stormy night--pouring rain and howling wind, and I thought a good smoke would be a fitting end to a busy and over-booked week. As it goes, I bought a couple of cheap...

When the same thing happens again

I wonder if God is testing me, giving Me some affable warning Or, perhaps, a more Stern rebuke, replaying A foolish mistake, Rehashing and reminding me Of a harsher possibility. It is only a small 10 mm wrench tightening A loose bolt on the throttle body, slipping...

The Fisher

To cast far is to cast well. I’ve always believed that the biggest fish are just beyond my range and lie in dark water I could never swim to. But experience is the wisdom that has me now casting closer to shore, nearest the reeds and overgrowth — a subtleness geared...

A Late Night Metacognition

Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after ~Henry David Thoreau           When you need something done, find a busy person to help you get it done. My mother loved repeating that to me all the way to her dying day,...

Crows & Swallows Release

There is seldom a red-carpet celebration when a book of poetry is released, so I will keep this a quiet and humble affair. My newest book of poetry, “Crows & Swallows” is now on iBooks, so fresh you can almost smell the ink. My business model is unchanged: It is a...

The Street I Never Go Down

As is often the case, I sit here with good intent to write my end-of-term comments--a dry litany of repeated phrases dulled by. obligation--and find myself instead writing poetry, the stuff I would rather share with my students who already know that I care dearly...

What’s in a Song

Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet. ~Plato         Writing a song is not just an exercise in seeking some kind of future fame. It is...

Chores

The day sometimes slip away from me, a huge pine half-bucked in the backyard, the kids old tree fort cut into slabs, a ton of coal waiting to be moved in a train of buckets to the bin. Sipping cold water on the back deck, sharpening the dulled teeth of a worn...

Raccoon Welcome

Welcome

The Nagging Thing

Not many more nights like this, warm enough to sit outside on the back porch. The kids and Denise long asleep. Usually, during the school year, this is my "time" to catch up on schoolwork--grading, posting the assignments for the week and playing the general catchup...

Reflecting on Literature

I am constantly asking my students (and myself) to reflect on the literature they, and I, read. As I have grown older—and not necessarily wiser—I find myself only reading literature that I am sure will prod me out of my intellectual and emotional torpor, like a lizard...

Redemption

Finally, the tall green pines standing sentinel around this cold and black New Hampshire pond are framed in a sky of blue. After a month of steady rains, foggy nights, and misty days, I am reborn into a newly created world—a world that finally answered my prayers: no...

Presenting…

"Anything worth succeeding in, is worth failing in."~by Edison?      A contractor friend showed up at my house a few weeks ago just after I finished making the hearth and installing my new wood/coal stove. He complimented me on how "awesome" it looked. I then lamented...

Out of the Forge: April 13, 2017

In my forty years or so of actively singing and playing folk music and writing songs, I have played together with a remarkably narrow list of musical partners: Rogue, Wally and Barry with camp songs and Hatrack and Seth with literally everything. These last few years...

The Shapes of Stories

While I have always been a storyteller of sorts, I am not much of a writer of stories--but I have always been intrigued by the relative simplicity at the core design level of most books and movies. A lot of it is tied to my love for Joseph Campbell's work on the...

The Enigma

Black Pond is not as deepas it is dark, dammedsome century agobetween ledges of granite and an outcropping of leaning fir, huckleberry, and white pine. For years I have paddled and trolled;swam, fished, sailed and sometimessimply tread water in the night trying to...

The End Is the Beginning

For the past twenty years this night has always been a bittersweet moment. I have never been hobbled by boredom or a lack of "things I love to do," so whatever supposed free time I have is rewarding in whatever I choose to do. The flip side is that I am teacher, and I...