It’s a damn tough life full of toil and strife we whalermen undergo

And we don’t give a damn when the whaling’s done how hard the winds did blow

‘Cause we’re homeward bound from the Arctic Ground with a good ship taut and free

And we won’t give a damn when we drink our rum with the girls of old Maui

Once more we sail with the northerly gale through the ice and wind and rain

Them coconut fronds, them tropical lands, we soon shall see again

Six hellish months we’ve passed away on the cold Kamchatka Sea,

But now we’re bound from the Arctic Ground, rollin’ down to old Maui

Once more we sail with the northerly gale towards our island home

Our main mast sprung, our whaling done, and we ain’t got far to roam

Our stuns’l boom’s been carried away, what care we for that sound

A living gale is after us, thank God we’re homeward bound

How soft the breeze through the island trees, now the ice is far astern

Them native maids in their island glades are awaiting our return

Even now, their big brown eyes look out, hoping some fine day to see

Our baggy sails running ‘fore the gales, rollin’ down to old Maui

And now we’re anchored in the bay, with kanakas all around

With chants and sweet alo-o-o-has, they greet us homeward bound

And now ashore, we’ll have good friends, we’ll paint the beaches red

Awaken in the arms of an island maid with a big fat achin’ head