High and dry on Judique Beach
In a cold and dreary dawn
Twas a lifeboat with a crew of eight
From the steamer Hurry On.
A crew of eight? No, seven now
For just as they reached the shore
MacLean has closed his weary eyes
To ope them nevermore.
Now five of them exhausted lay
They could not raise a hand
They did not know their little craft
Had washed up on the sand.
But two there were could make their feet
They struggled bravely on
They climbed a bank and saw a house
And they knew the fight was won.
Twas Dougald F. MacDonald’s home
Close by the Judique shore
They stumbled weakly up to it
And knocked upon the door.
The good folk quickly took them in
And listened to their tale
Of how the good ship Hurry On
Had foundered in the gale.
How they had manned the lifeboat then
And faced the raging storm
They hadn’t time to salvage food
Nor clothes to keep them warm.
How these twelve men, so helpless
Upon the waves were tossed
Till breakers wild upset their craft
And four of them were lost.
They righted her and eight still lived
Tho far from safe and sound
For hours and hours they tossed about
And then were washed aground.
“O haste, make haste, and help these men
Or they will soon be dead!”
The Judique men jumped to their feet
And to the shore they sped.
They brought them in and carefully
They tended one and all
Tho at the time they thought that two
Had heard the final call.
But soon they rallied one by one
And to the Lord gave thanks
They said, “He must have guided us
To land on Judique Banks.”
For Judique hospitality
Is known throughout the land
Tis part of their religion
To help their fellow man.
And so these men from the Hurry On
Will long recall the names
Of Dougald F. MacDonald
And his brother, Willie James.
Now they’re in St. Mary’s Hospital
Reported doing fine
If you’d care to hear their names
We have them here in rhyme.
There was Boudreau, Boyd and Baker
And Carmichael as you know
One was Shode and one was Evans
And one Cocopardo.
So this concludes the story
Of the brave men who were saved
But God have mercy on those pour souls
Who met a watery grave.
And God have pity on those at home
And help them bear their cross
The mothers, wives and fathers
Who are left to mourn their loss.
And, oh, kind people safe on land
Won’t you hearken to my plea
Say a prayer tonight and every night
For our boys who follow the sea.