It has often been said, and I can’t disagree
That there’s no men so tough as our men of the sea.
But two of the toughest who ever did roam
Were Kenny and Mike who lived in Belleoram.

One day late last fall in a moderate gale
In a 16 foot punt with a double-reefed sail
They headed out fishing to their usual spot
With orders from Mom “get something for the pot.“

They hooked a few sculpins and dragged up some kelp
Tried a few different places but nothing would help.
“Oh my” said Mike “looks like a dead loss.”
“I know now” Ken said “Mother won’t be some cross.”

“We’ll try somewhere else” said Mike with a sigh
“Perhaps down around Nain, or Ireland’s Eye
So haul up the sail, so tight as a bar.”
“Don’t bother” said Ken “I can scull’er that far.”

But the fish wouldn’t bite and their luck surely stank
In the Gulf or the Straits or on Funk Island Bank.
“Let's try ‘cross the pond'” said Mike with a smile.
“I s’pose b’y” said Ken “but you scull for a while.”

Well two hours later they were anchored off France
Having passed through two hurricanes, Alfie and Blanche.
With waves 60 feet and winds 90 knots
Not too bad thought Mike, a bit of a lop.

There was nothing off France and nothing off Spain
‘cept a small submarine that they threw back again.
As they crossed the equator they hooked up a squid
With 60 foot arms and a 30 foot head.

“Now then” said Mike “that’s a giant one I think”
He had just gotten sloused with a puncheon of ink.
“Throw it back” Kenny said “Mother don’t like them things”
But they cut off one arm, for a meal of rings.

Off the Cape of Good Hope they got into a fog
For three or four hours it was thick as a bog.
When it finally cleared up off some Antarctic Bay
A 100 mile iceberg was barring their way.

“Oh my” said Mike “’tis one thing then another
Trying to get supper for Father and Mother”
“Now brother” said Ken “I can’t see a way through
So pass up that axe ‘til I cleaves ‘en in two.”

A little while later while off of Somalia
They ran into some pirates who said “We’ll keel haul ya!”
Kenny knocked out two dozen one after another
And said “Go home now boys or I’ll wake up me brother.”

In the Indian Ocean they ran into Paul Watson
With some other Greenpeace jetsam and flotsam.
In spite of the heat they were dressed up in furs
And firing off guns at some Indian turrs.

“Come aboard b’ys” said Paul “we’re having a scoff
Of seal meat and whale with the cameras turned off.
My favourite thing is to sit on a beach
With a meal of flippers and a bottle of Screech.”

Politely declining the offer from Paul
They rowed to Australia and set out a trawl.
Then they rowed ‘round New Zealand and came back for a look
But there was still nothing there that Mother would cook.

Off Hawaii they surfed on some 100 foot waves
Won a prize and got decorated with leis.
Eastbound again Mike said “Look out front
“‘Tis Mother” said Ken “in Father’s old foot punt.”

“Where in the world have you young fellers been
Your poor old Father” she said “what a sin
He came all over sooky and started to sicken
When his supper was only a bucket of chicken.”

“Sorry Mom” said Kenny “there’s not much on the go.”
“Not much on the go!” she said “no I know!”
Her rodney was full of the fish she had caught
From the keel to the top of the thwat where she sot.

Then she said “get home out of it through the Panama Canal
And get your father his tea, you know he’s not well.
I’m just going to dart ‘round Cape Horn while it’s light
And stop into Rio for bingo tonight.”

Feeling slightly dejected the boys started rowing
Not really watching out where they were going.
‘Til all of a sudden they brought up with a smack
‘gainst the side of a ship that was blocking their track.

“Oh my” said Mike “that’s an ogis big ship”
“The biggest one yet” said Ken “on this trip.”
Then he saw that the captain was someone he knew
“That’s skipper Dan Williams on the great Eastern 2!”

Well it turned out that Danny had decided to lay
A cable from Churchill to the U S of A.
“One way or another” he roared from the deck
“I’ll get round that crowd of sleveens in Quebec!”

A short while later in the fading daylight
The Panama Canal’s western gate hove in sight.
“Not far now bruddy” said Ken with a grin
But a sign said “We’re closed, please come back again.”

“Oh my” said Michael “Lard Jaysus” said Ken
The boys weren’t supposed to be out after 10.
“Pass up the bailer” said Ken with a roar!
“Til I digs a way through to the Carribbean shore!”

From that point on home the trip was routine
And they were tied to the stage at about 9;15.
Father was crousty and wanting his tea
And grumbling ‘bout gas from that old KFC.

Next morning their mother tied up to the stage
She’d met up with Danny who was in quite a rage.
“His ship was broke down and you know how he prates
So I hauled his old cable as far as the States.”

And so that’s the story of Michael and Ken
About average toughness for Newfoundland men.
But if it came to a racket I know that I’d ruther
Tackle both of the boys than tackle their mother!”
  Submitted By: Dave Paddon