Ah, Arwell sailed the seven seas,
With gusts of wind and salty breeze,
A sailor bold, or so he claimed,
But mishaps followed, unashamed.

With compass lost, he'd oft declare,
"Ah well," he'd laugh without a care,
For Arwell's tales of naval pride,
Had more of humour than of guide.

One day he tried to catch a whale,
But hooked himself upon the sail,
"Ah well," he mused, in tangled plight,
As crewmates chuckled at the sight.

In stormy nights and waters rough,
His skills were lacking, sure enough,
Yet Arwell's charm and hearty cheer,
Could make the toughest sailor veer.

A pirate crew once came to fight,
With swords and pistols gleaming bright,
But Arwell tripped and splashed their guns,
"Ah well," he grinned, "the battle's done!"

Though navigation wasn't strong,
His friends knew where they did belong,
For Arwell's heart was kind and true,
And laughs were plenty, troubles few.

So raise your glass to Arwell's might,
The sailor who turned wrong to right,
With "Ah well" as his motto bold,
A tale of mirth forever told.