THE BATTLE OF THE YATCHES.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue XV, 12 October 1895, Page 443

THE BATTLE OF THE YATCHES.

OR, THE VICTORY OF THE YANKEE YACHT AMERICA. A Pathetic Copy of Verses made by a British Tar at Spithead. Oh, weep ye British sailors true, Above or under hatches, Here’s Yankee Doodle been and come And beat our crackest yatches. They started all to run a race, And wor well time with watches ; But oh ! they never had no chance Had any of our yatches. The Yankee she delayed at first, Says they, ‘she’ll never catch us.’ And flung up their tarpaulin hats— The owners of the yatches ! But presently she walked along ; ‘ Oh dear,’ says they, ‘ she’ll match us.’ And stuck on their tarpaulin hats, The owners of the yatches. Then deep we ploughs along the sea ; The Yankee scarcely scratches ; And cracks on every stitch of sail Upon our staggering yatches. But one by one she passes us While bitterly we watches And utter imprecations on The builder of our yatches. And now she’s quite hull down ahead, Her sails like little patches. For sand barges and cotters we May sell our boasted yatches. We faintly hear the club house gun — The silver cup she snatches, And all the English clubs are done, The English club of yatches ! They say she didn’t go by wind, But wheels, and springs, and satches. And that’s the way she weathered on Our quickest going yatches. But them’s all lies, I’m bound to say— Although they’re told by batches—’Twas bulk of hull and cut of sail That did for all our yatches. But novelty, I hear them say, Fresh novelty still hatches ! The Yankee yacht the keels will lay Of many new club yatches. And then we’ll challenge Yankeeland, From Boston Bay to Natchez, To run their crackest craft agin Our spik and span new yatches.