This song was composed by Peter Leonard of Little Harbour.
It tells of the loss of the Red Island schooner "Annie" in 1915.

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Attention all ye seamen, come listen to my tale,
Until I will relate to you, of a cruel November gale.
Which did burst forth the 17th, as ye may understand,
And the like was never seen before, on the coast of Newfoundland.

So now, my boys, I'll do my best, the truth I will relate,
Concerning the schooner Annie, that left St. John's the 8th.
With a full cargo of supplies, bound to Placentia Bay,
And the wind blew forth most furiously, mountainous ran the sea.

Fermeuse was the last port she left, quite early in the morn,
With the wind off from the northwest, the day before the storm.
And early the next evening, they were in Trepassey Bay,
The wind blew forth most furiously, mountainous ran the sea.

They tried with all their endeavours, Trepassey for to gain,
The wind and sea it rose so strong, their objects proved in vain.
It was under a two reef foresail, they had to bear away,
About six o'clock they anchored, in Aquaforte Bay.

They signalled a steamer, the Sandlark was her name,
She came to their assistance, but did not prove in vain.
For they made fast their horser, like brave and noble men,
To their surprise it parted, and they were adrift again.

Three times they tried to take them, but the wind blew with much force,
It was there they had to leave them, and steam back to Aquaforte.
They left that little schooner, with the angry waves to fight,
And those poor boys, they'll never forget, the terror of that night.

The night being gone the day came on, more heavier ran the sea,
They knelt down on the open deck, most fervently did pray.
Onto the Blessed Virgin, God's mercy to implore,
They never thought that they would see, their friends again on shore.

About ten o'clock on Monday, there shipped an awful sea,
The skipper and the dory, they both got washed away.
He being a noble swimmer, and his courage did not fail,
Soon was a rope thrown from the boat, and pulled him o'er the rail.

Friday and Saturday, the wind it did decrease,
They shaped her forward to the land, according to the breeze.
On Saturday night it rose again, followed by heavy rain,
On Sunday it veered from the northwest, and drove them back again.

About two o'clock on Monday, a whistle they did hear,
I know they were delighted, when they found it was drawing near.
They sighted her, they signalled her, and then she did bear down,
It proved to be the Monarch, for London she was bound.

The Commander of the Monarch, had everything at hand,
He made fast a steel cable, to tow them to the land.
Their little boat proved leaky, and her crew was weak and tired,
They then agreed to leave her, and set the hull on fire.

When they got on board the Monarch, their grief soon came to joy,
I know they were delighted, when the Cabot they did spy.
For she'd been out in search of them, and they so near at hand,
They took them from the Monarch, and brought them safe to land.

It is for Captain Blackmore, his praises we prove well,
He took them from that frail craft, he did it with great skill.
For He had fed five thousand, with five loaves and fishes too,
He hauled around to help to save, that poor unraging crew.

So now they're safely landed, and in good health again,
Here's to Jim McCarthy, and his two brave hardy crew.
There's Bill Rodgers and Jer Whelan, they are known to us all,
Like hardy sons of Newfoundland, can answer every call.

Now to conclude and finish here, I mean to end my song,
I hope ye will excuse me, for delaying ye so long.
My education is but small, and grammar I don't use,
Among educated people, my ignorance must be excused.