Folklore of the Sea

Mix of myths and legends, stories and real-life events giving a well-rounded and entertaining view. Discover a collection of the myths, legends, folktales and superstitions that sailors held dear as they travelled across the oceans and made their lives upon the sea.

Filled with the myths and legends of the deep, this new illustrated edition of the cult classic folklore collection reveals the stories that swirled on the open seas, and the customs that remain part of maritime life.The vivid, often eerie, superstitions, tales and rituals of the sea were the sailors 'response to danger - immediate and uncontrolled. As a sailing-ship beat for weeks across the Southern Ocean, domain of the albatross, meeting no one in the lonely wastes, her crew felt an urgent need to appease the sea-gods. Even today, with engines, iron or fibreglass hulls, and less credulous seamen, much traditional sea lore has survived, especially in the fishing fleets.Stories of phantom ships and crews (from the Flying Dutchman onwards), of the perennial sea-serpent, of lonely lighthouses; rituals such as the crossing-the-line ceremonies or blessing the fishing fleet; old weather lore, sailors' chanties and sea language, taboos and talismans, precautions taken at keel-laying or launching - all these are recorded and interpreted here.For everyone who enjoys strange stories and the chilly fascination of the unconquered sea, or thrills to watch man pitting himself against merciless elements, this book is a delight and a mine of information. Margaret Baker is unrivalled at collecting traditions of the past and showing the part they have played for generations of men in their daily lives. With brand new illustrations by Philip Harris.

Autorentext
Margaret Baker was an author known for her focus on the folklore and customs of rural communities in the United Kingdom and United States.

Klappentext

Discover a collection of the myths, legends, folktales and superstitions that sailors held dear as they travelled across the oceans and made their lives upon the sea.

Leseprobe
2 The Ship:AfloatThe ship awaits naming and launching and little is left to chance lest accident or neglect create a 'jinx' of life-long stain. Launching beliefs are frailer than they were; once Wednesday was 'best day of all for the job', and Friday shunned, but in cheerful rebellion Cunard launched the Countess at San Juan on Friday, 13 August 1976, a choice of date which a hundred years earlier would have limited her charms for susceptible passengers.As with a bride, a ship bathed in sunshine will be happy. 'The sun always shines on Nautilus,' said the crew of the first nuclear submarine to pass beneath the North Pole, a saying which originated on launching day when a thick fog overhung the Thames River at Groton, Connecticut. At the last moment, just as Mrs Dwight Eisenhower was about to swing the champagne, the fog burned away, so dramatically that many spoke of a minor miracle.6 Tide permitting, a forenoon launching - sun ascendant - endows the newcomer with rising fortunes, if a warship with satisfying knocks at the enemy. So favourable are attendant gulls and porpoises that many toss chopped fish 'chum' into the water to ensure their attendance.Hesitation symbolises setbacks in the vessel's career: no lucky ship ever stuck on the ways, which are well lubricated beforehand - for practical reasons admittedly, but sympathetic magic is also served. (The Queen Mary slipped away over 150 tons of tallow and 50 tons of soft soap.) If wooden ways catch fire as the ship creaks over them she will be 'lively as the leaping flame'. For luck the tugs which swing her round follow the 'sunwise turn', the luck-bringing arc of life.The touch of the sponsor, in England and America almost always feminine, endows the ship with luck. A bottle of wine was once flung free-style at the bow by the sponsor, with a lively chance of error or accident. Today the bottle usually swings forward on a decorated cord to smash in a glitter of glass and wine. Until the seventeenth century wine was poured over the bow from a silver goblet which was then tossed to Poseidon. This expansive and expensive gesture did not last!Modern launchings, glittering public-relations performances, derive from ancient custom. The primitive occult importance of the occasion is plain in the extraordinary fanfare afforded a new ship compared with that, say, greeting a new aircraft. Bands play, the clergy stand by with blessings, ships sound their whistles (for loud noises frighten away evil spirits) and when the ship is safely in the water a congratulatory luncheon follows. The idea is not new; when the Beaulieu was launched at Buckler's Hard, Hampshire, in 1791, Henry Adams, her builder, entertained eighty to a banquet, and the guests danced until three in the morning.The Vikings believed that jealous sea-gods demanded a life for every new ship entering their element and lashed a useless prisoner to the ways so that his blood provided the mollifying offering. Until the nineteenth century, blood baptism was essential to any war-canoe's welfare in Fiji, Tonga and Tahiti, where the human rollers were lashed between convenient plantain trees. The rite was especially important for warships whose task was to kill, and which must smell blood at the first opportunity. As late as 1784 the Bey of Tripoli launched his cruisers with a slave tied to the prow.Christianity substituted quieter ceremonies of baptism and blessing. In time wine replaced blood, but in reality the splash and flow of today's champagne is sacrifice in modern dress. In Aberdeen early this century sacrifice was specifically remembered by the ducking and thrashing given to the shipwrights' apprentices. Some were thrown into the waves caused by the vessel striking the water and ducked three times.Steel bands, libations of blood, and the potent local rum, 'Jack Iron', raise and propitiate the spirits of dead and living at traditi