I'm bad when at sea, yet it's pleasant to me
To charter a yacht and go sailing,
But please understand I ne'er lose sight of land,
Though hardier sailors are railing.
If only the ship, that's the yacht, wouldn't dip,
And heel up and down and roll over,
And wobble about till I want to get out,
I'd think myself fairly in clover.
But, bless you! my craft, though the wind is abaft,
Will stagger when meeting the ripple,