On utube with some old slides.
http://youtu.be/RdkRG6GpqPA

On Soundcloud
https://soundcloud.com/tuigorge/where-are-you-willie

RD - Rock modern waltz
Bass - RT1189
Guitars - RT860
RT 854
Midi tubular bells
Seagull wave.

Where Are You Willie

New Years Celebrations in the fishing village at Kaingaroa in the roaring 40's. About 1970. A workable bay nestled behind a scruffy rocky reef. We had a hangi with lots of food and a sleep. Then a party in the company hall beside the packing plant. The crews from the crayboats came ashore so we were all there.Oodles of grog and fine drunken performances all round to welcome the new year. Eventually we all wandered off to our caravans or huts to crash or continue drinking. The morning was bleak with staggering hangovers and a continuing offshore southerly gale. The word spread through the village like the wind. Two guys were missing. Willie and Spoff. Not in the hall. Not in the camp. Not on anyones boat.
Spoff turned up under his workboat. Curled up with a peaceful smile, weightless in a sandy nest, spectacles still in place, hair billowing with the tide. We stored him in the blast freezer with the cray tails.
Willie was more of a mystery. An aluminiun dinghy was missing from the beach. A keel furrow dragged through the sand. Bootprints. One old oar on the beach. No sign of the dinghy on the rocky headland or reef. He must have set out after midnight to return to the boat. One oar and seaboots and drunk. Maybe he lost the oar and maybe the wind just blew him out past the reef. Maybe he fell overboard. We fired up our vessels and combed miles of restless ocean until dark. Never found Willie.

A New Year's Eve spirit flows through the camp
The crews are ashore for the party
There's plenty of food and and plenty of booze
The hall is uproarious drunken and glorious
Live for each moment a wild life we've chosen
and celebrate being alive

A fierce offshore gale companions and mail
Tall tales of fun fish and frolic
I crash in the night out like a light
And wish I was home with a girl of my own
where the wind didn't shriek in the rigging
And ghosts didn't cry in the night

Where are you Willie
How did you get there
What are the sights that you see
I hope your not cold
and never get old
and don't want to change places with me

It's a hungover morning and Willie is gone
in a dinghy dragged down from the beach
an oar and big bootprints marks in the sand
The sea is still foaming the wind off the land
We fire up the diesels and comb the wild sea
But there's no sign of Willie. He's gone

Where are you Willie
How did you get there
What are the sights that you see
I hope your not cold
and never get old
and don't want to change places with me
Cause it's dark and it's cold lost at sea.

Hope you enjoy. Cheers.

Last edited by RichMac; 05/09/14 07:50 PM.