From Robertstown one morning bright, old Blackthorn cast away,
But a car crash on the bridge ahead meant a slight delay.
Yet through the locks with ease she went, no trouble to slow the pace,
With Waterways Ireland on the banks to help her up on into Naas.
The Naas Rally was fantastic, the craic was mighty fine,
Followed by an adventure up the winding Corbally Line.
Then down the cut to Hazelhatch, where memories restore,
For this was Blackthorn’s homing place in 1984.
We stayed upon the 12th lock bank 'til the November sun did rise,
Then 13 boats in convoy moved beneath the morning skies.
They spoke of the dreaded Blackhorse Bridge, of headroom tight and low,
With chimney off and horn unscrewed Blackthorn eased right through the flow!
To Portobello at the dusk, the water clean and deep,
Not a hint of any issue as the city went to sleep.
Next morning past the weeping willows, past the Barge and crowd,
Beside the Luas, Mespil Road, the engine thrumming loud.
We saw the Grand Canal Dock gates, the end was in our sight,
But a low bridge blocked the final stretch and ruined our delight!
Just one hundred feet to go, but the roof was far too high,
Until we hatched a cunning plan beneath the Dublin sky.
"We need the power of the people!" the Captain gave the call,
"We need the Mass of Ass right now, get on the bow, you all!"
Twenty-four folks piled on the front, plus a dog to add some weight,
To sink the nose and scrape her through the iron and the slate.
The hull went down, the cheering rose, as we slipped beneath the dart,
Then victory blasts from the re-seated horn announced the emergence from the arch,
Some disembarked some stayed on board
The help won’t be forgot,
As Blackthorn took a victory lap around Grand Canal Dock!