His Majesty the Tugboat
Dedicated to all tug boat Operators
And their crewmen
The Liner, she's a lady; that's the reason why, no doubt,
She always needs assistance gettin' in an' getting out;
She can't come up the river and dassn't dock alone
So she whistles for a tugboat in a most implorin' tone,
An' the tugboat takes the hawser an' his wake begins to boil
With his engines chuggin' lively and consumin' diesel oil.
Then he swings her and he pulls her, like a cowboy driven' stock,
An' he hasn't got no manners, but he gets her to the dock.
When there's any job to tackle he will take it anyhow
Whether towin' racin' liners or a garbage scow.
You will see him ploddin' heavy with a raft of rollin' logs,
Or a-chuggin' down the harbor with a barg of squealin' hogs,
With a string of empty lighters or a ship from 'round the Horn,
With a fleet of pleasure barges or a freighter full of corn,
He yanks them through the river an' his husky whistle blows
As he tells the wayward steamer to be lookin' where she goes.
The Tug- he bucks the river when it's full of grindin' ice
An' when there's trade to handle, why, you needn't call him twice.
For he's a ridin' combers maybe fifty miles at sea
An' he doesn't stop for danger when he's lookin' for a fee;
He's a little giant helper, he's the live wire of the port,
He's a nervy, nifty snorter an' a winner an' a sport,
He's the snubby-nosed exploiter of the chances of the game
An' he's never much on beauty, but he gets there just the same.
© copyright Background by Dora 2001