Then and now, Part 2

By Sandy Lindsey

  The Mariner is a First Rate publication. In 2004, first rate refers to a level of quality, often excellence. From the early days of British wooden ships to the day when steam-powered vessels replaced them, how many cannons were on board gave the ship its rating. A hundred guns or more earned the designation of first rate. While 90-98 cannons were considered second rate, 64-89 guns ranked third rate, 50-64 guns were fourth rate. Frigates, with a range of 20-48 guns on board, normally fell into the fifth and sixth rate classes. Which raises the question: even if a ship had a mere 40 cannons on board, didn't that make it strong enough to achieve any rating it wanted, especially if those long guns were aimed at the inspector at the time?
  It's almost impossible to imagine Three Sheets to the Wind having any meaning other than its inebriated version of today. A "sheet" is actually a line tied such as to control the tension on the downwind side of a square sail. Three Sheets to the Wind refers to a three Amsted ship. If the sheets (lines) of the three lower course sails came loose, the sails flapped and fluttered, leaving them "in the wind" or under the temporary control of the whimsical breezes. The ship in the wind would stagger, stall, and/or meander aimlessly downwind until the "sheets" were fixed.
  Every time your wife walks into the garage or storage shed and sees your stash of unused boat "essentials" and she wishes you'd have a Rummage Sale, she's probably unaware that she's using a nautical term. Arrimage is French for a ship's cargo. Damaged cargo that could not be delivered and sold at cost was sold at discounted arrimage sales. The word quickly evolved into the nickname of rummage sales, which are still a source of great values today.
  May every time you take your boat to a marine mechanic, it receive a Clean Bill of Health. Captains throughout history have wished their ships to receive clean bills of health, but not to save money on repairs. As ships could be a means of spreading contagious illness, the term originally referred to a document that was given to a ship reporting that the port it was last in currently had no epidemic or major disease at the time.
  Boot Camp. Yes, you may want to send your unruly teenager to one when they're nagging for yet another pair of $100 sneakers. Oddly enough, the thought of shoes leading to the thought of boot camp would be almost following the path of history. The term initially referred to the leggings or "boots" that sailors wore during the period of the Spanish-American War. These "boots" became a nickname for new recruits, soon resulting in their training area being called boot camp.
  Speaking of clothing, Bell-Bottom Trousers were never meant to be the political fashion statement the 1960s made them. Created in the early 1800s, the design allowed sailors to roll the pants up above their knees when necessary, such as when scrubbing the decks. The loose design also made them easier to take on and off; and there is one theory that they could have worked as a PFD if they were removed and the legs were knotted together.
  To Buy the Farm has just about a gruesome a meaning as any nautical term can have. Created in WWI, if a navy man was killed in combat or otherwise while on active duty, his family received the payment of a government insurance policy. This payment was structured to be enough to pay off many a small family farm.
  If you were to say that the above term leaves you Taken Aback to a mariner of yore, they'd stare at you. In their day, to be taken aback happened when a sudden squall or other sudden shift of wind came up unexpectedly and pushed the sails back against the masts. This was a very dangerous situation as the masts could snap under the undue force, leaving the ship dismasted and out of control.
  To Chew the Fat isn't some new joke about the cooking at McDonalds. Nor did it originally mean to gossip as it does today; though the origins aren't that far off. Sailors were often given rations of salt pork during long voyages at sea, especially when the perishable foods ran out. This led to complaints about the food being a main portion of the dinner conversation, or a version of chewing the fat as they chewed their fat.
  Practical religion is at work here, resulting in the term Holy Mackerel. Blue laws in England of the 1600s prohibited the selling of fish on Sundays. Mackerel was the one exception because it spoils so quickly -- an odd boon to the fishing industry.
  Does is seem incongruous that the term Skyscraper existed before the buildings themselves did? The old meaning was for the triangular sail above the skysail. It was used to make the most of light winds.
  The rich are always the rich, no matter what century you're in -- you know them, the Posh people. When India was a prime destination by ship for the wealthy the term Posh was coined. Port/out (PO) was the cooler side of the ship as was starboard/home (SH). So the posh people got those cabins, while other travelers were left to deal with the heat best they could.
  The Whole Nine Yards was more than just one of the best Bruce Willis' movies. A fully-rigged three-masted vessel had three square sails on the "yards" (the spars that cross the mast to support the sails) of each mast for a total nine. Making the most of the wind with all the sails deployed soon became using the whole nine yards.
  Now that you've taken a crash course in nautical-speak, it may be time to set this issue aside temporarily and go get a good Square Meal. In the rare instances when the ship was near enough to shore for fresh victuals and the weather was calm enough to serve the hot meal on plates, the crews' mess was served on square wooden platters. Hence the best, most nutritious meals on board were the square meals. 

This vessel is definitely more than
Three Sheets to the Wind.

The definition of Boot Camp hasn't changed
much over time.

                                 
There weren't any elevators to the Skyscraper
back then.