Seafaring Sunday: Lights and Links

July 10, 1808: the first stone is laid for the Inchcape Light (or Bell Rock Light) at the treacherous entrance to the Firth of Forth in Scotland.

Around the web, other interesting points of note from this week in history include the beginning of the Jeannette Arctic Expedition at The Naval History Blog, the story of Union hero William Tillman from the Civil War at Almost Chosen People, and - also from NHB - the first prize taken by former U.S. merchant Delaware in the Quasi-War with France.  Enjoy!

Header: Inchcape Light via Wikipedia

Sailor Mouth Saturday: Idler

According to my particular friend Mr. Webster, the main definition of idler is:


One who does nothing and wastes time; a lazy person; a sluggard.

The word comes to us from the Middle English word idlen, meaning useless which may have been influenced by either the Anglo-Saxon word idilian or the Old French word idutile (modern inutile), both of which also mean useless. By land, an idler is what a friend of mine used to call a “minimum participator in life”. But at sea, the word is a fond reference to some of the hardest working people aboard a blue water ship.

An idler, in seamen’s terms, is a person who, due to their need to work continuously throughout the day, is not expected to stand a night watch. This allows these sailors to be up with the sun and back in their hammock long after supper has come and gone. The only exception to their schedule is during times of stress such as battle or storm when all hands are expected to be on deck.

The main officer jokingly referred to as an idler was the bosun. His constant management of all sails, rigging, anchors, cables, flags, pennants and so forth made him – and the knowledge he brought with him – indispensible at almost any point during a cruise. Of the four main idlers, it was a good bosun who probably saw the least time in his cot.

Along with the bosun, the sailmaker, carpenter and cook where also considered idlers. By the 18th century, surgeons and their mates, marine officers and paymasters had also been added to the list.

Much like waisters, who were simply given their name because they tended to work at a ship’s waist, idlers were so called as an amusement. Sailors love to name a thing, and if they can make its moniker worth a chuckle so much the better.

With all that, the occasional grumble was doubtless heard on a particularly unpleasant night: Damn idlers; sleeping while we stand the graveyard watch.

Header: Royal Navy Bosun c 1829 via Ancestory.com

Booty: Ship for Sale

Sea Shadow, the U.S. Navy’s floating answer to the stealth bomber, is on the auction block. Not surprisingly perhaps, bidding is slow. Though she looks a little bit more like a houseboat for Anton LaVey than any kind of stealth warrior, Sea Shadow has a surprisingly star-studded history that is keeping her in the news.


As this article from Yahoo! News notes, Sea Shadow appeared in one of the longest running movie series in history. She was the inspiration for the evil super ship in the Bond movie Tomorrow Never Dies, giving the villain a seagoing base for the instigation of his dastardly plans.

Sea Shadow, though sometimes erroneously referred to as United States Ship, was never commissioned by the Navy. Her use was purely experimental; find more about her here. She is approximately 160 feet long and 70 feet at the beam with a price tag of around 195 million U.S. dollars. As of this writing, she will go to the wrecking yard by the end of July, or earlier, if no buyer comes forward.

So here’s your chance; a houseboat fit for a villain – or at the very least a rebel – with a bit of a fixer-upper feel. Are you in?

Header: Sea Shadow via Getty Images

History: Battle of Valparaiso

In the War of 1812 Captain David Porter, commanding USS Essex in the South Pacific, was engaged in the pursuit of British whalers. His success was so great that he essential shut down His Majesty’s whaling fleet, costing Britain millions in lost revenue. Captain James Hillyar, in command of HMS Phoebe, was dispatched to take, sink or burn Essex. The two ships, along with their tenders, met and engaged in Valparaiso Harbor off Chile in the spring of 1814.


Hillyar, who was an acquaintance of Porter’s, employed the brutal tactic of standing out of Essex’s range, trapping her against the shore and bombarding her with his long guns until she was literally a floating abattoir. Porter was forced to strike after losing most of his crew, including all officers but his third lieutenant, Stephen Decatur McKnight and one midshipman – Porter’s adoptive son – David Farragut. The ungentlemanly behavior of the British captain would be spoken of for years and his career after the war was certainly hindered by the infamous affair. Porter himself would write to the Secretary of the Navy, William Jones, after his parole, castigating his former friend without reserve:

I now consider my situation less unpleasant that that of Captain Hillyar who, in violation of every principle of honor and generosity, and regardless of the rights of nations, has attacked Essex in her crippled state within a pistol shot of neutral shore, when for the last six weeks I have daily offered him fair and honorable combat on terms greatly to his advantage, the blood of the slain must be on his head, and he has yet to reconcile his conduct to heaven, to his conscience, and to the world.

Porter and the surviving members of his crew were back in the United States in time to witness the end of the war with the Battle of New Orleans.

Happy Independence Day to the U.S. Brethren, and a hearty cheer for one of our finest, Commodore David Porter.

Header: Contemporary engraving of the Battle of Valparaiso

Seafaring Sunday: Requirements for Officers

It is by no means enough that an officer of the navy should be a capable mariner...  Indeed, he should be as well a gentleman of liberal education, refined manners, punctilious courtesy, and the nicest sense of personal honor ~ John Paul Jones

Header: John Paul Jones via U.S. History Images

Sailor Mouth Saturday: Ballast

The thing about ballast, as any good sailor will tell you, is that it has to be handled just right. To quote The Sailor’s Word Book:


A want of true knowledge in this department has led to putting too great a weight in ships’ bottoms, which impedes their sailing and endangers their masts by excessive rolling, the consequence of bringing the center of gravity too low.

Trouble indeed.

Ballast is in broad terms the stuff that goes into the hold of a ship to bring her to the right water line. Too little and she is too high in the water, making her subject to rolling and capsizing; too much and she is so low that the potential for foundering is great even in relatively calm seas. Ballast is not necessarily made out of one thing; it can be anything heavy, really. In times past brick, rock, iron, and soil have been among the things used while in some modern ships water is ingeniously employed to keep a ship level upon the sea.

Out of the custom of ballasting a number of seagoing terms, and rights as well, have come. Ballastage, for instance, is the right of a monarch or government to tax ballast. A port official known as a ballast master would oversee the ballasting of a ship and the collection of the levy. This was particularly common in Britain and her holdings; it was one of the many items that the American colonies added to that arm-length list of taxations without representation.

A ballast basket is a container for lifting ballast onto a ship via block and tackle. It was often used when at sea by the gunner to move ordinance as well. Obviously, it was not a basket per ce but more like a box made of wood or metal.

The ballast mark on any ship was the waterline around her hull when she was carrying her favored ballast. Sometimes a ship was completely without ballast, particularly a merchant loaded with cargo, but the occurrence was rare. Either way, whether cargo or ballast, when it moved due to the rolling of the ship at sea the term was a ballast shift.

Ballast ports were square holes cut into the hull of merchant ships for loading ballast. Ballast shooting, usually through said holes, was the practice of discharging ballast overboard. Most well used ports throughout Europe and the Americas would fine any ship found engaging in this practice.

A ship is said to be in ballast trim when she is carrying only ballast. A ballast shovel is an oddly shaped tool that resembles an enormous grapefruit spoon made of iron. Ballast shingle is gravel, usually of slate, used for ballast.

Because of the importance of ballast to a ship, the word took on other meanings for sailors. A man was said to have his ballast if he was thoughtful or wise. On the other hand, a mate who lost his ballast was making bad decisions. An officer who carried too much ballast was full of himself and said to have a “big head”. It doesn’t take a sailor to recognize any of those kind.

Fair winds and following seas, mates; may your grog be strong and your friends be true until next we meet.

Header: USS United States by Geoff Hunt

Booty: A Mermaid Anatomy Lesson

She had a voice of silver and lips of coral red; She climbed the dolphin-striker and she kissed the figure-head ~ Crosbie Garstin


The above quote refers to the type of fantasy mermaid that sailors have exchanged stories about probably as long as they have put boats in the water. A completely different, and far more clinical, view of these much storied merfolk is offered by modern artist Walmor Correa whose mermaid illustration appears at the header.

Correa, who is a native of Brazil, became interested in art through science. He developed a fascination with anatomical and wildlife drawings and, after finding he had a rich talent with pencil and pen, developed a style all his own. His work is a surprising combination of the kind of studies found in the classic Grey’s Anatomy and the timeless renderings of San Domingue Creole John James Audubon. Correa focuses on such things as odd combinations of species – birdlike rodents, for instance – and crypto-zoological studies. He has even done anatomical pieces based on Marvel Comics characters. He is a prolific artist who has been producing beautifully detailed works of both quirky and disturbing fantasy for over a decade.

Two of my favorite pieces by Correa focus on mythical beasts of the sea. The first is, of course, the delicately detailed mermaid pictured above. The most surprising points of the seemingly post-mortem study, to me at least, are her human lungs and the detail on the lower left showing how she would carry a child in her womb.

The second is of a Brazilian creature known as an Igpupiara or Ipupiara. According to MythBeasts, this is a seal-like mercreature that was first spotted off Brazil in the 16th century. This type of merfolk is without the scales of a mermaid and has webbed fingers. As Correa presents it, Igpupiara’s internal organs differ considerably from the mermaid’s; even the detail of its mouth and glottis on the right are unfamiliar.

You can see more of Walmor Correa’s intriguing if often unsettling work here as well as at his official website. Pleasant dreams…