Searching for the Hump By King Barnard
N
ot long ago I was trying to explain to a non-sailor—unsuccessfully as it turns out—what the raised portion of the deck of a sailboat is called. It sort of came out as, “You know, that raised area, that hump in the deck that gives you some head room when you’re below decks.” It was not a very nautical-sounding explanation—and I think I got away with it—but there was that momentary “deer-in-the-headlights” look that had me worried. The conversation had to do with me telling a tale to this non-sailor about being in rough weather and having to rescue the dinghy that was bundled up in its bag and tied to that area of the deck under the boom just forward of the dodger. We were heeled well to starboard in 35-knot winds with six- to eight-foot seas and had taken a large wave over the bow that caused the dinghy to break loose from the center of “the hump,” and it slid to starboard, winding up against the lifelines. Maybe it’s an age problem, and I hate to think it is, but in telling the tale, I just could not remember what you call that part of the boat. Almost everything on a sailboat has a name; most make no sense and few are commonly known— and for me, even remembered. Later, after telling that tale, I made a few phone calls to some friends to see if they knew the correct term for the hump. No one knew, but deck seemed to be the most common guess. The Internet is a great resource for looking up things, but you have to know what you’re looking for; otherwise, you can get lost in a sea—so-tospeak—of unrelated sites. Terms like “deck hump” returned lots of site options including one for Moby-Dick and another for the upper deck hump of a 747, so that wasn’t going to work. After a bit of navigating around the Internet, I discovered a number of sites that listed nautical terms and sayings that proved to be lots of fun to read. One unusual and fun site is dauntlessprivateers.org which is dedicated to maritime history of the 16th and 17th centuries. There I found a wealth of old nautical sayings and information. 70 March 2011
SOUTHWINDS
For example, have you ever heard someone being called “footloose”? (like “footloose and fancy-free”). It started as a nautical saying referring to the bottom portion of a sail that’s called the foot. If it is not secured, it is said to be footloose as it dances randomly in the wind (also helped develop the term “loose-footed sail). Reminds me of a few people I know. The term, “worth their salt”— often thought to be nautical jargon— came from the Roman army for how soldiers were paid. Another old nautical tradition was for sailors at the end of the day to have a mug or two of grog. In 1740, British Vice Admiral Edward Vernon (whose nickname was “Old Grogram” for the coat of grogram he wore) ordered that the sailors’ daily ration of rum be diluted with water. The crew called the mixture “grog” and a sailor who drank too much grog was groggy. And yes, a few footloose characters I know do get groggy from time to time—well, a lot, actually. Groggy, footloose sailors probably led to another old saying, which is “three sheets to the wind.” A “sheet” is a line that controls the tension on the corners of a sail. If, as with a threemasted square-rigger, the sheets of the three lower course sails are loose, the sails will flap and flutter and are said to be in the wind. A ship in this condition would stagger and wander aimlessly downwind, acting much like a drunken sailor, and thus the sailor was said to be “three sheets to the wind.” I’m guessing that by now you see where this is going, so let’s keep going. Groggy, footloose sailors that are
“three sheets to the wind” leads us to yet another old saying. When in port— and with the crew restricted to the ship for any extended period of time— wives and ladies of easy virtue often were allowed to visit, or even live aboard along with the crew. Infrequently, but not uncommonly, children were born aboard. A convenient place for that event was between the guns on the gun deck. If a boy was born and the child’s father was unknown, they were entered in the ship’s log as “son of a gun.” And now, for the captain. What do you think he said about a crew of footloose, groggy, three-sheets-to-thewind sailors that had sons named “Son of a Gun”? He likely turned a “blind eye.” In 1801, during the Battle of Copenhagen, Admiral Nelson deliberately held his telescope to his blind eye, in order not to see the flag signal from the commander to stop the bombardment. Nelson won the day and thus the saying “turning a blind eye” now means to ignore intentionally. All this might seem to be a lot said about not much of anything—“flogging a dead horse,” so to speak. Yep— another nautical saying that comes from British navy crews when they had been at sea for weeks and had worked off their initial advance, usually one month’s wages (and usually long gone). The term “flogging a dead horse” alludes to the difficulty of getting any extra work from a crew during this period, since, to them, it felt as though they were working for nothing. So that said, I’m not working on this anymore. Oh yes, the raised hump in the deck of modern sailboats; it’s called a coach roof. Have something for these last page stories? Send us your fun, interesting and personal experiences: Got a unique story? A funny experience? A learning experience or unusual happening? A tearjerker? An unusual story or report? A funny photo or bunch of them? Send it to editor@southwindsmagazine.com. www.southwindsmagazine.com