Mingulay Boat Song

Mingulay Boat Song

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.

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…

Busy…

The start of the school year, and I have literally spent every free moment working on what is ostensibly pretty cool stuff, methinks...but it is work in every sense of the word, so I do miss those long summer mornings when  could literally write to my heart and heads...

The Late and Lazy Teacher

I guess this is a good thing. I showed up five minutes late for class, and my classroom was empty. I walked the hallways of the school and could not find any of them. I sheepishly asked the assistant headmaster if he "happened to see a class of wandering boys?"No, he...

Going Google?

When you find yourself in the majority, it's time to join the minority ~Mark Twain I have to admit, Google is pretty impressive. The whole set of features that are offered to the public and to educators for free is pretty astounding: email, document creation and...

Quit Your Whining

Anything worth succeeding in is worth failing in~Ben Franklin     "Quit your whining and complaining" is probably a clause that can easily be translated into every language in every culture on earth, for, from what I know and have seen in the world, bitching about...

There is in an easiness

When I begin to think of myself. My girded shell squeezing Oysters in a jar; My oily viscera Jammed and joggled Into impossible places. My pancreas Is never where it should be; My esophagus cut cleanly Swirls in a diaspora. My tongue is a trapped In a tangle of...

Once Burned. Twice Shy.

Just because no one understands you,  it doesn’t mean you are an artist ~Bumper Sticker        I sometimes wonder why when you give a group of teenagers a video camera, the first impulse is to shoot something stupid. It’s as if there is some jackass switch...

Out of the Forge: March 30, 2017

Every Thursday Night at The Colonial Inn On the Green, in Concord, Massachusetts This is my first attempt at trying to record a night at the inn, so please forgive my engineering errors as a producer. I simply used the Bose Tonematch into Garageband and called it good...

Moby Dick: Chapters 42-51

A literary reflection to my students... The lowering for whales, the appearance of Fedallah's crew, the vivid descriptions of the first chase in a sudden and unrelenting gale, the fatalistic joy of resigning oneself to fate, the awesome poetic intensity of Melville's...

Chicken Road

A Monday Ramble

There is always a hard shift for me at the end of the summer, and today is that day for me. I miss the freedom of last week: I'd wake in the morning, come out to the deck to write poetry or work on my novel--but now today, I feel like I should be preparing for school,...

The Mystery Within

EJ wanted a banana tree for Christmas so that early morning brought a plastic bag, a few meager roots and no directions. I bought some potting soil and a square cedar box EJ placed deliberately by a westward window. He gently splayed the roots, pressed the soil, and...

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...

Metamorphoses

It’s something I‘ve hardly ever thought of:
this simple and rattling old diesel
has always gotten me there and then some;
and so at first I think this sputtering
is just some clog, and easily explained:
some bad fuel maybe, from the new Exxon,
or just shortsightedness on maintenance.
I’ve always driven in the red before,
and these have all been straight highway miles —

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...

The Old Tote Road

I clabber down the old tote road towards the red pine forest, leaning on my staff, skirting boulder-strewn ruts and small gullies carved out by two days of heavy rain. It is only a mile or so from our cabin, still, my wife makes me wear a pouch with an iPhone and an...

A New Beginning

 I guess if there is any constant in my life, it is new beginnings.  This blog--and this website--is another new beginning starting here late on a cold night on my back porch. I've been keeping a blog (in fact several blogs) since the first blogs made their way on to...

Yesterday did not become a poem

Nothing became something else; No thoughts filled my head With wonder or wisdom. Listless sky. Jumbled frames. Fleeting images: Chattering squirrels, Distant rumbling Of rush hour traffic. Today I am more determined, But all that is left Is the promise Of tomorrow.

Raccoon Welcome

Welcome

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...

Supermoon

Last night the August supermoon reminded me of the fickleness of time and how substance becomes shadow and memories begin to etch themselves immutably into the hardness of what is already lost.

Don’t Let Go of Your Soul

Sometimes yeah.
Sometimes no.
Sometimes it’s somehow somewhere in between.
Sometimes it’s somewhere that no one has been–
no, nobody, nowhere, no nothing can end.
So don’t you let go and hope you’ll find it again.
Don’t you ever let go–

No Dad To Come Home To

Rain’s falling outside of Boston—
Thank God I’m not working tonight.
I’ve got six of my own,
And a stepdaughter at home,
And a momma keeping things right.
I wonder if they’re at the table
With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
When I get off the highway
And pull in that driveway,
Will they run to the window again?

To a teacher

This shift from fall to winterIs the cruelest month:Long days and nightsIn a blather of responsibility’s I hoist from a murky holeAnd sort and siftOn a messy desk. I pity my students who trembleMy red pen of vengeance;Who wait with fetid thoughtsFreighted by what they...

Denise

There is something about coming hometo this empty house, yesterday'sheavy downpours scouringclean the alreadyweathered deckwhere I sitwishing for,wanting,you.

Know Thyself…

Writing a Metacognition Know Thyself… Explore, Assess, Reflect & Rethink If we don’t learn from what we do, we learn little of real value. If we don’t make the time to explore, reflect and rethink our ways of doing things we will never grow, evolve and reach our...

Let It Snow, Let It Snow…

You can't kill time without wounding eternity. ~Henry David Thoreau       Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...but don't let it totally define your day. Most of us see a snow day as an unexpected vacation day, though really what it is could be called "a day of...

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...

In the unfolding 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 I hear Emma rustling for soccer cleats and...

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...

Superman

There’s a little blonde boy in a superman cape
Racing around the back yard;
Sayin’, “Daddy don’t you know I can fly to the moon;
I’m gonna bring you back some stars.
And after that I’m gonna save the world”
Cause I’m superman today.”
I scoop that boy right into my arms,
And this is what I say:

You don’t need a cape to be a hero
You’ve got all the special powers that you need
Your smile’s enough to save the world from evil
And you’ll always be superman to me