Desert Raider Land Yacht

Song Lyrics By:Don Rypinski

To the tune of  “Sloop John B”

By:The Kingston Trio

Oh, Wind Sails and Sand

A Sahara adventure so grand

In Desert Raiders we sail one thousand miles

From Algeria to Mauritania

With the Bedouins to guide us

From there to the sea


The advice the director does give

About how, on the desert to live

Will astound some of us and shock the rest of us too

Until we turn blue, like all Bedouins do

One thing there’s no doubt, the adventure is new


With Mohammed Zoum-Zoum as chief guide

Who is taking us all for a ride

To the left, to the right, and into the night we sail

And sometimes we tow

Over big rocks we go

Then repair the next day

The Raiders we sail


Mon General Duboucher

Troujours il dit “Advancer!”

Mais nous vellons nous reposer

Quand nous sommes fatigues

Car Zoum-Zoum viens nous tuer

Well this is a long trip, toujours fatigue


My General Duboucher

He says “Advance!”

But we want to rest

When we are tired

Because Zoum-Zoum come and kill us.

Well this is a long trip, always tired


So Hoist up the Raider’s Sails

See how the mainsail sets

But wait for the General’s call to Mohammed Zoum-Zoum

We want to go home

Oh let us go home

We like the desert but

We want to go home


The British Pilot, Gary

A long time ago injured his knee

And one day, while pushing, he did it all over again

He walked so stiffly that the Docter quickly

Sent Gary right home

To heal normally


Popolski Pilot Raman

Turned over his yacht in the sand

The diDirector said,”Please Raman , do it again

But this time wait for me—the signal will be

‘Roll it Camera, Action,’ now make it lively”


The American pilot, Don

At first sailed right on and on

But each day his axles would bend a little more

Till one day at four, his yacht hit the floor

And Hans had to fix it , for there were no more


Hans Dekkers, the chief mechanic

A superb machine-fabrik technician

Everything in sight he fixes all day and all night

He can weld, cook and sail, and follow our trail

Well, I think without Hans, our expedition would fail



Hoist up the Raider’s sails

And sail as just fast as you can

Don’t wait for the General’s call, we want to go home

We want to go home

Please Let us go home

Kees is getting restless and

We want to go home.


The Docter says the water is polluted

And with pills should be diluted

For the well at Fort Ien Ben Tilt was unfit

Water with shit, just think of it

Well this is the worst drink

Since I have been born


The German pilot, Uwe

Showing off one stormy day

He lifted a wheel in a move other pilots won’t make

So two reef we did take, it was no mistake

We still went Zoum-Zouming from lake to dry lake


The Belgian pilot, Alain

Always sails as fast as he can

Till something breaks, or he overtakes al the rest

He really is the best, when put to the test

What a bloody Belgian

That Houtsaeger is


Big George is the First Cameraman

Taking pictures as fast as he can

From tripod, hand held or out of a car

He shouts for a Mag, says the whole trip’s a drag

Oh, big George can hardly wait

He wants to go home


Assistant Cameraman Andy

Thinks cous-cous is dandy

And finds eating camel to be a delight

EHe ate some last night, with his left hand and right

What a site was Andy, he ate every bite


Oh, Werner’s a Cameraman too

Who thinks we’re in Timbuktu

And who finds the food to be increasingly bland

Always with sand and don’t use your left hand

Werner, keep on shooting,

So we can go home


Bertran, the pilot Francais

Shot a gazelle yesterday

Today we ate it with some potatos and rice

It wasn’t nice it needed some spice

But it was the best lunch we’ve hadup to now


Cornelius, known as Kees

Is the Dutch pilot, if you please

He claims we are all sailing like fools

Kees, don’t break the rules

Or we’ll take your tools

And we’ll have to tow you

So we can go home


The Canadian Pilot Stanley

Jumped into his Raider with glee

From Mabes to Tindouf he sailed very quickly

Then ran into a tree and stan did decree

Land yachting is nice, but I prefer ice


From Las Palmas our cook does come

He’s known as “Rommel” by some

At night he serves us whiskey. Champagne and rum

The rum comes from a gas-oil drum

But let’s not trommel Rommel

So we can go home


The still photographer, Nick

Bought a djellaba real quick

Took on a disguise we could not recognize

Except for the eyes, all covered with flies

Now we just hear click, click

From photographer Nick


From Chicago, the sound man Bob

Is conscientiously doing his job

Although desert life he finds full of strife

So sometimes, for fun, he’ll make a pun

He says, “it’s pun to be here”

But I long for my wife.



So Hoist up the Raider’s Sails

See how the mainsail sets

But wait for the General’s call to Mohammed Zoum-Zoum

We want to go home

Oh let us go home

We like the desert but

We want to go home

Link to back Issue with the original Wind Raiders article Summer 2014

Oh, Wind, Sails and Sand