All At Sea

Sir Cloudesley Shovell faced a bit of a struggle

On his way back home from the Med

He'd been down there to surprise the French

Like you do with cannon and a highly trained crew

To wrench their rigging with grape and spider

And finish them off in one glorious show

To avoid a decider off Plymouth Hoe

But the French were waiting and spoilt his plans

So Shovell took umbrage and with all surprise blown

Said 'bugger this lads, let's all go back home'

 

On the way back across Biscay Bay 

The weather turned horrid and made them pay 

By slowing pace and losing track of time and place

Unable to see stars and points of focus they lost their locus

And sailed blindly around in search of lee

They were all at sea and devoid of hope

East-Nor-East unable to cope with relentless beast

They approached the Scillies with inadequate clocks

Shovell's fleet and two thousand men

Sealing their fate on the beckoning rocks

 

To calculate longitude you need good clocks

Without them your fate is always approx

So they offered a prize throughout the realm

For anyone capable of taking the helm and guiding them home

Building a clock that kept accurate time 

Through heat and cold and corrosive brine

Was essential for survival across vast ocean foam

So good Queen Anne offered twenty grand

And eternal gratitude across the land

To anyone capable of meeting demand

 

There was no comparison with a Harrison clock

Made from lignum vitae and oak

So they knocked on his door and spoke to him

About problems at sea caused by unruly clocks

Not keeping time and rocks sinking ships unduly

His specialty was wood, but he could if required, hatch a plan

To fettle in metal by melting his kettle and starting from scratch

Thirty years later he'd got it just right inventing new bits

Escapements and springs and all things necessary

For accurate orbits and trips to Biarritz 

 

There's no longer reason for being lost at sea

John Harrison saw to that

He toiled for years through hardship and tears

Creating a watch you could take to sea 

Allowing you to wander the oceans free

And know precisely where you would be at any given time

Poor Cloudesley Shovell and many before him

Were simply too early on history's path

They did their best by star and compass

But were too ill equipped to avoid Neptune's bath

 

Now sailing's a doddle, a piece of cake

You press a few buttons and the boat steers itself

While you slip below to tidy a shelf

Slake your thirst or coddle an egg

But without young Harrison's remarkable skill

You'd still be guessing whether Portland Bill

Was this way or that, you'd be all at sea

Unable to function all gumption lost

Dashed against rocks and hurled in disgrace

Into Neptune's beckoning fatal embrace