We're the
U .S.
Power
Squadron and the anchor is our sign
For its slow and dragging seamen
ship our membership to shine
We have learned to box the compass
when it doesn't counter punch
We not only shoot the stars but we
can also shoot our lunch
After class we all assemble
where there's sawdust on the floor
We take out our notes for study,
and then over them we pour.
All this work outside the classroom
moves our chances up a notch,
So we sight the constellations
through a glass of rye or scotch.
We have boned and crammed on
Bowditch,
Chapman taught us all he knows.
When we read the geodetics,
we could smell the compass rose.
Our grasp of naval language
overaws the simple folks,
To make sure it's all authentic,
we read
Popeye in the jokes.
We advance from simple seamanship,
we're pi lots in our term.
Then we're senior navigators,
and our grasp is sure and firm.
Our instructor's final message is,
with me no more you're moored.
Any boat is safe with you, my lads,
as long as it's insured.
You