The ship is nearly upside down, partially encased in the iceberg that was its doom.
The folk of Land's End still remember the wreck of the
Gaspard, often giving content, yet wistful, sighs as they remember the ship that went down in shallow water containing 1600 gallons of whiskey is nice, solid, and well sealed barrels....
The ribs of the ship are mixed with those of the vast sea creature that tried to devour it, the bones of the sailors now lost to the tides.
And of course, the Irish Rover....
In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six,
We set sail from the Coal Quay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand City Hall in New York
We'd an elegant craft, it was rigged 'fore and aft
And how the trade winds drove her
She had twenty-three masts and she stood several blasts
And they called her the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had eight million sides of old blind horses' hides
We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs and six million dogs
And seven million barrels of porter
We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails
In the hold of the Irish Rover
There was awl Mickey Coote
Who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootin' with skill
For each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk
He was
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of the walk
And he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance
When he took up his stance
That he sailed in The Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann, from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper on the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And our ship lost her way in the fog
And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two
'Twas meself and the captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock; what a shock
The bulkhead was turned right over
We turned nine times around - then the poor old dog was drowned
Now I'm the last of the Irish Rovers
The Auld Grump