“Captain Kidd’s Treasure”

This page was last modified on September 21, 2002.

This is a folk poem that Rory Ryan of Colliers kindly provided to me in September of 2002.

Rory wrote me and indicated, “I have a poem that I am going to attach that was found by someone in Colliers recently and I was lucky enough to get my hands on it.  It is approximately 50 years old and the author of the poem is unknown, but it is strongly suspected that he is from Colliers and around the same age as the two young lads of whom he is writing that are definitely from Colliers.  As the poem does not identify who the people in the poem are, neither will I, but I think it would be a great addition to the home page as it is definitely written about Colliers and people from Colliers.”

Other then that I have no details on this poem, it’s author, origin, or the participants named herein. So I only present it “as is and where is” as an example of the wit and storytelling ability of the people of Colliers. No offence is intended to anyone living or dead and I hope that all reading it will enjoy it as the fine piece of humorous folklore that it is. It was obviously written in good fun and I hope it will continue to be taken that way by current and future generations of readers.

Just as an aside, if someone knows more about the poem, or has any other stories or folksongs of Colliers they would like to share with me, I always welcome hearing from people.

Finally, once again I’m very grateful to Rory Ryan for sending along “Captain Kidd’s Treasure” to me so that I can have an opportunity to share it with you.

Dennis Flynn

Flynn’s Point, Colliers, Newfoundland

September 08, 2002

“Captain Kidd’s Treasure”

Come all ye prospectors and listen to me

A short simple story I’ll tell unto ye

Concerning two men who started to rove

And dig for Kidd’s treasure down in James Cove

They came from the old road and I know them quite well

It’s not my intention their names for to tell

With hatchets and hammers and some dynamite

They appeared on the scene to go digging by night

They hired George Foley’s dory to take them along

But when they arrived, the breeze was quite strong

They pulled up the dory in Tom Walsh’s bite

And sharpened their picks to go digging that night

They dug and they sang, and drank homebrew galore

They’d soon find that chest! Yes perhaps three or four

They dug with a vim that would shame a wildcat

And all of a sudden they struck something flat

It was Captain Kidd’s treasure of that they were sure

They’d soon have it up and maybe a lot more

But when it was dug up each man had to stop

Instead of a chest it was a rusty piss pot

They took from Carrick for it was getting quite late

They pulled up the dory by Frank Whelan’s gate

They took to the road in such a great fright

And fled to the old road with all of their might

Now take my advice and go home with your picks

Or they will be stolen, and then you’ll be in a fix

Let the fairies all rest so that their spirits may rove

For there’s nothing but beach rocks down in James Cove.

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