To hear the men sin 



Chantey man : 



I left my baby standin ' in the back door cryin ' , 

 Honey, don 't go! 

 Fishermen : 



Lawd, lawd, don't go! 

 Chantey man : 



I'd go home but ain't got no money! 

 Fishermen : 



Lawd, lawd, ain 't got no money! 



The menhaden fishermen sang. In unison, menhaden 

 fishermen heaved their nets, heavy with catch, to the 

 rhythm of their song or chantey. They sang about the 

 women they left behind, about money, about a mule, 

 about whatever came to the mind of the chanteyman. 

 But it wasn't the words that mattered; it was the 

 rhythm — a rhythm that set muscles straining and sweat 

 rolling, a rhythm that enabled 25 men to "harden" nets 

 laden with thousands of pounds of menhaden. 



"The men would sing a verse, then pull just as hard as 

 they could, then take another chantey," says Berkeley 

 Simpson. "The words didn't sound too good (the chan- 

 teys were peppered with obscenities), but some of those 

 fellows could really sing. When we were working in Long 

 Island Sound, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five sailboats 

 would gather around us to hear the men sing." 



It is believed that the menhaden chanteys originated in 

 the South, most likely in North Carolina. Like other 



Photo by J Foster Scott 



The mother ship waits as two purse boats make the final set of the day off the beach at Rodanthe 



Hampton Mariners Museum Photo 



work songs, they provided the rhythm to coordinate the 

 efforts of the workmen. Today no song is heard from the 

 men working the purse boats. Instead it's the hum of 

 motors, winches and hoses, doing the work done twenty 

 years ago by the muscles of men. 



Only a few recordings of the chanteys were made; most 

 of the colorful chanteys will be lost as the fishermen who 

 sang them die. A few of the chanteys (the above in- 

 cluded) can be found in John Frye's book, The Men All 

 Singing. 



