RRCPC Newsletter
Volume 42 Number 1 Article 5
May 2005

"Albert and the Cave"

This poem, loosely based on "Albert and the Lion" was first read by Mel Wilkinson at the 2005 Annual Dinner.

There's a famed limestone fell known as Ireby
As is noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there wi' young Albert, their son.

A fine little caver, were Albert,
In his brand new TSA suit, quite a swell,
He'd a new pair of wellies, and a harness,
The finest that Bernies could sell.

Well he didn't think much of the limestone,
The caves were all wet and quite small.
Wot with no gear, 'twas chance of a fall,
In fact, nothing to laugh at, at all.

So seeking for further amusement,
And for something exiting to do,
He went to bottom Quaking,
Now that's quite severe! - for all of you too.

Well he slid down t' cave right easy,
Like a ferret goes down a hole.
But the Crux - it gets a bit tight,
And it swallowed the little lad whole.

Well, he twisted and turned in his prison,
And he tried to get out, with a nudge,
But no matter how hard he wriggled,
The poor lad - he couldn't budge.

Now Ma, - who had heard of the occurrence,
And not knowing what to do next,
She said, - "Pa, yon caves ate our Albert"
And Father said, - "Ee, I am vexed".

Well, they couldn't extract little Albert,
By tugging the end of his line,
Then someone said, "Call the Cave Rescue"
So they went - and they rang 999.

Now the CRO weren't too sympathetic
When they heard about Albert's mishap,
In fact, - most of them fell about laughing,
Then Whitney - he started to clap.

Oh, won't you come quickly? cried Mother,
Who was now in a bit of a state,
Nay, - there's no point in coming this weekend,
Not till young lads lost some weight.

So it wasn't till the following weekend
That the rescue team turned out in force
With lots of Black Sheep, and jam butties,
And a long piece of rope - and a horse!

Now the name of the carthorse was Wallace,
He were worth every penny o' t' hire.
He'd won every prize going for pulling,
He were best horse in all York shire

So they tied end o' t' rope onto Wallace
And he pulled like he'd som'at to prove
But in spite of his very best efforts
Young Albert, - he still couldn't move.

More they tried to get Wallace to move
But it seemed that they were right out of luck,
Till all were nearly exhausted
And t' team leader muttered - "Oh Fuck!"

Then he gathered his team all around him
And said - "Now lads, come and listen to me"
Someone must go down to Clapham
And come straight back to me with "Plan B."

When the man came back, some hours later
They all new this would be their last hope
For he'd a bucket of green Fairy Liquid
Mixed - with old engine oil and soap.

They emptied the bucket over Albert
And they greased him from bottom to top.
Then they passed the rope up to Wallace
And the team leader he shouted - "Gee up!"

Then Wallace, he strained every sinew,
This were no Sunday afternoon stroll!!
With a noise like a elephant farting
Young Albert - popped up from the hole.

He flew through the air, quite a distance
And came down to land on some grass,
With nothing to show for his mishap
But a nasty black bruise on his ass.

Then Albert - he turned to 'is mother
Who was still looking rather perplexed
He said, - "eer mother, that were right smashing -
Can I do Car Pot next?"

At that mother got proper blazing!
This caving's too dangerous a game!
Next weekend, we're going to Blackpool,
You can play with that Lion again!

Mel Wilkinson

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