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FIDDLER'S GREEN

The 'Fiddler's Green' as remarked on here, is said to be the place to where old sailors wish to go when they cross the bar.
A place said to be populated (should that be your desire) with countless willing ladies, a multitude of rum casks that never empty, and where their ship will always have a fair wind with flying fish skiping on the sea and dolphins frollicking around..

The Legend of Fiddlers Green.
It is often said that when a sailor wishes to leave the sea, he should - walk inland with an oar over his shoulder, until he comes to a place deep in the country, when the villagers ask him 'what it is he is carrying...' On;ly then will he have reached the place that the bards, yarn tellers and fiddlers sing about.
It is a place where the people, will sit him outside the Village Inn with a glass of grog, a pipe forever filled with fragrant tobacco and from where he can watch the maidens dancing to the music on Fiddlers Green.

In this song it is a dying sailor who casts his imagination to that eutopia.

Research suggests that the phrase 'Fiddler's Green' dates back to well before 1825 when it first was published. It als has connection with the Ipish music tradition from which this song written by John Connolly in the 1960's, has entered into tradition.

To put the situation to the right, The fiddler in this story is not one who plays the violin, but he that uese the 'fid', a spiky instrument found on the side of seaman's knives often said to be used to extract stones from horses hooves, but in reality ued to open the lay of a rope so thatit can be used to make a splice.

Often termed a marlinespike.

As I roved to the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt water and take in the salt air
I heard an old Sailor a-singing this song
Oh, take me away boys, me time is not long

Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Green".

Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where the sailors all go if they don't go to hell,
Where the weather is fine and the dolphins do play
And the cold northern oceans are far, far away

Now when you hang up your oar and the long trip is through
There's pubs and there's clubs and there's lassies there too
And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there's bottles of rum grow'n on every tree.

Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gale
And the fish jump on board with one swish of their tail,
Where you lie at your leisure, there's no work to do
And the skipper's below making tea for the crew

Now I don't want a harp nor a halo, - NOT ME
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
I will sing and I'll dance as we sail along
With the wind in the riggin to sing me a song

As I roved to the dockside one evening so rare,
To view the still waters and take the salt air,
I heard an old Sailor a-singing this song:
"Oh, take me away, boys, my time is not long.