"In Neptune's Court": A New Research Initiative
It may not be the most dignified of
nautical customs, but it’s certainly one of the oldest and most
widely observed. When a vessel approaches the Equator, crew members
who are crossing for the first time must appear before King Neptune
and his court to demonstrate their worthiness as subjects of the
sea. Proof is exacted through tests and punishments that can range
from the mildly embarrassing—singing a song or reciting a
nonsensical rhyme—to much more grueling treatments: running the
gauntlet, tarring and feathering, or crawling through slops. The
custom earns the sailor or passenger little more than a certificate
and the right to call himself or herself a "shellback." But for all
its ribaldry and rough play—and no doubt in part because of these
qualities—the practice has been surprisingly popular. New research
launched by MFC director James Moreira takes a closer look at these
so-called "crossing the line" ceremonies.
European mariners first crossed the Equator in the late fifteenth
century, and from the 1520s, we have the first accounts of crews
marking the passage with special ceremonies. As sea travel expanded
during the modern era, "crossing the line" became a benchmark of
nautical experience and the ceremony itself an entrenched custom
aboard the ships of many nations. The historical depth and cultural
breadth of the custom is evident from the more than one hundred
accounts compiled and published in the 1950s by Harry M. Lydenberg.
The ceremony continues to be observed aboard modern vessels, even
aboard passenger liners and troop transports, and the basic idea has
been applied to other situations, such as crossing the International
Date Line and the Arctic Circle. In the 1950s, airlines began using
a variant of the custom as a promotional gimmick.
Although the
ceremony varies widely, some elements are standard. The principal
characters, played by veteran sailors, are King Neptune, Davy Jones,
Queen Aphrodite (Amphitrite on British ships) and her attendants,
the Royal Baby, a Royal Doctor or Dentist, a Royal Scribe, the Royal
Barber, and a band of enforcers generally referred to as Police or
Bears. Formerly, a good deal of effort went into costumes, with
elaborate suits, robes, and gowns, masks and face paint, and wild
flowing wigs and false beards made of unbraided roped. The
uninitiated, called "pollywogs" or "tadpoles," appear before the
court to answer charges and receive sentencing. Although the
ceremony has earned a reputation for brutality, many of its
"punishments" are more grotesque than violent: foul-tasting
"medicines" are administered by the doctor; pollywogs have to kiss
the Royal Baby’s belly, which is smeared with grease; at one time,
they had to crawl through a garbage-filled canvas chute; and the
Royal Barber tries to leave a healthy dose of lather in each
victim’s mouth. A vigorous ducking in a tank of water brings a
welcome end to the initiation.
Over time, the
ceremony has seen many adaptations. Some stemmed from changes in
maritime technology. Ducking from the yard arm is rarely possible
nowadays, and so canvas tanks are rigged up on deck. True to
tradition, however, there is often a sizable drop from the barber’s
chair into the tank. Social changes at sea have also affected the
custom. In the past two decades, the growing participation of women
in maritime occupations has constrained some of the more physical
and visceral aspects of the custom. During the same period, naval
authorities have become more accountable for the public image of the
service and its traditions.
The prevailing take on the ritual is that "it’s all in good fun,"
though not everyone has seen it that way. Mark Twain, who could find
the humor in just about anything, felt the ceremony could only
appeal to minds deadened by the monotony of a long voyage.
Executives at Coca-Cola, on the other hand, saw it as the embodiment
of camaraderie and used a depiction of it in a major war-time ad
campaign. No matter how one feels about it, its tenacity as a naval
custom and its ability to adapt to and reflect transitions in
maritime culture make it a worthy object of study.
The research
project will document the custom through interviews with sailors and
passengers who have been through it. Subjects will be selected from
different age ranges, services, and national backgrounds, in order
to map the extent of variation and continuity in the ceremony.
Moreira and MFC student researcher Chris Roberts plan to begin
interviewing in the spring. They welcome input from readers of the
newsletter, and of course they’d be delighted to hear from
"shellbacks." As the research will cover all maritime trades and
services, they hope to make contact with people who have witnessed
the ceremony aboard merchant ships, research vessels, and passenger
liners, as well as on naval ships.
For further
information or suggestions, please contact the Maine Folklife Center
at:
(207) 581-1829 or by e-mail:
folklife@maine.edu
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