WHIMS OF SAILOKMEN

Dominion, Volume 20, Issue 46, 18 November 1926, Page 17

WHIMS OF SAILOKMEN

QUAINT SUPERSTITIONS OF THE SEA From the very beginning of man’s activities upon the sea it lias possessed for him a charm replete with mystery —it was full of unknown terrors, and ever, beyond the far horizon, lay that land which haunted all his dreams. Sailors, so much cut off from the world, and, as it were, more in the hands of the gods, and those same gods not being too often of a friendly disposition, have become, as it is but natural they should, more superstitious than the ordinary run of mankind, and more 'given to being influenced by omens. How long and fondly many seamen and landfolk clung to the ancient myth that a fair wind might be bought for a price from some old witch cr wizard, or a foul wind either, for that matter, to make shipwreck of an cnemv s vessel. In "The Tempest,” Miranda says to Prospero:— “If, by your art, my dearest rather, you have put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.” Whereon Prospero puts off the magic robe in which he raised the storm.. Then in “Macbeth” the first witch complains that she saw a sailor’s wife eating chestnuts and asked her for some, only to be cursed for a witch—- “ Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ the Tigers, but in a sieve I’ll thither sail, and like a rat without a tail, I’ll do, I’ll do, I’ll do.” Her two friends, in sympathy, promise to aid her with the necessary winds. She declares that she will follow his ship with a howling gale, night and day, keeping him from sleep, '.'till he dwindle, peak and pine; though his bark cannot be lost, vet it shall be tempest toss’d.” The inhabitants of Finland and Lapland were supposed to be peculiarly willing and expert in making these unholy bargains. In “The Comedy of Errors,” Antipholus says:— “Sure, these are but imaginary wiles. And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here.” Till comparatively recent years Scandinavian shipmasters are said to have paid the local witch-wife large sums for knotted. cords and other charms for fair winds and against foul weather. At sea, whistling used to be considered as an affront to his Satanic majesty, and even to this day there are old sailormen on sailing craft who do not like to hear whistling cn board, except in a calm. It is supposed to bring more wind, perhaps too much. How manv old sailors are there who would as soon sail on a Friday as on anv other dav of the week? csks Flinders Barr in the "Svdnev Sun.” The ill-luck attached to this particular day has reference to the Crucifixion of Our Saviour. Note how carefully it is emphasised in a very doleful ballad, “The Mermaid”:— “On Fridav-morn when we set sail.” Once a verv practical American merchant, who had no nse for the idle tales of seamen, built a fine little ship. She was named the Friday, was emphasised in the opening line of that launched on a Friday, and she sailed on a Friday. Whether she vas lost on a Friday one will never know, but she was never heard of again. On tin’s occasion practical commonsense did not gain a victorv. From the da vs of' Ulysses, mermaids and sirens, both on sea and tn land, have exercised a baleful influence on sailormen, but an old writer 'ells us that he was assured by a North Sea pilot, in confirmation of the latter’s belief in mermaids, that in the great gale of 1702, when so manv ships "ere lost on the East Coast of England, one of the fleet was saved by the kind interference of a mermaid, who hailed her by name in the following prophetic words, “Sea Adventure! Sea Adventure! Clew up all your rail end let go your sheet anchor.” The prudent master took the warning and saved his ship. The Phantom Ship is another <i the dying legends of the sea, » nd as a boy I made many inquiries of ancient mariners, my shipmates, but never found one who had actually himself seen old Vanderdecken working out his curse and calmly, as if upon a mill pond, with all sails drawing, sail away into tiie darkness, against the ceaseless gales and thundering seas of the "roaring forties.” Vanderdecken had sworn be would double the Cape whether God willed it or not, and there, they said, he was to this day. The Flying Dutchman would seem to have much in common with the Wild Huntsman who vowed to chase the deer for evermore. A sailor loves to have a eat on board —or any animal for that matter To throw a cat overboard vas considered an unpardonable crime in the old days as being likely to bring bad luck to the ship. Children t Iso were considered lucky by the seanen, when on a long voyage. To cut nails or hair at sea, except in a gale of wind, was likely to bring misfortune < n the ship. To lose a water-bucket or a swab was also an unpropitious omen.

A horse shoe has been for tenturies in ereat request at sea as a charm against evil spirits, and was nailed, toe up, on the fore side of the foremast of a man-of-war, and cn the masts of merchantment. On one rcrasion an Italian ship was struck by lightning and the shape of the 1 orsesboe nailed 0:1 the ship’s foremast was imprinted on the bodv of a seaman who was killed bv the discharge. The most weird of the supernatural “warnings” sworn to by the early vovagers was the appearance of a gigantic human hand, winch would suddenly rise out of the sea ahead of the ship foretelling, one may suppose, al’ manner of ■ dire misfortunes. As nortraved in an old book of travels, this spectre hand was tnongh to make the boldest mariners tremble fnd vow forthwith to lead a new life.