The brilliant young jazz singer and pianist Jamie Cullum is perhaps best known for his haunting theme to Clint Eastwood’s movie Gran Torino; but I like Cullum’s “All at Sea” even better.
(Billy Joel fans who unexpectedly saw Cullum open for Joel at State College in 2014 got to hear this gem performed live.)
Anyway … between this meandering intro and our last two columns here at Weird Words, I myself am also feeling “all at sea.”
In honor of this Central PA summer, as well as the current season’s 50th anniversary of Jaws, your local word-Smith has been looking at oddball vocab associated with boats, ships and sailing.
Here’s our final batch:
Binnacle – A waist-high box, case or stand holding the ship’s compass and other instruments—generally placed near the helm. One may wonder: Why not just grab a pocket compass like the Boy Scouts? As I understand it, the magnetic compass needs to be secure as a vessel rolls and pitches; many binnacles have gimbals to help with this. Likewise, the binnacle usually offers internal illumination for nighttime use.
Hoy – A heavy barge used in harbors; less often, a 17th- or 18th-century sailing vessel used for fishing and trading (Dictionary.com).
Loggerhead – “An iron ball attached to a long handle, used for driving caulking into seams and (occasionally) in a fight.” Hence the idiom, “at loggerheads.” (NauticEd)
Luff – As a verb, it means to sail a ship “close to the wind” (that is, as much into the wind as possible). As a noun, it’s the foremost edge of a sail. (Funk & Wagnalls)
Never sure which meaning Paul Humphrey has in mind for his short, charming poem “Blow” (1983). I can’t violate copyright by trotting out the whole thing here; look it up!
Mizzen – The mast right behind a sailing ship’s mainmast—and thus usually the third.
Orlop – The lowest level on any ship having at least four decks; generally, the deck over the hold (its first syllable is condensed from “over”). (American Heritage)
Parrel – Pronounced like “peril,” this is a moveable loop that fastens a sail to the mast, enabling easy adjustment up and down.
Pusser – Slangy recasting of purser—the one who buys, holds and sells “all stores on board ships, including victuals, rum and tobacco.” Lop off the final “R” in purser and you’ll see where it came from.
Rigol – The site NauticEd, on which I relied heavily for these boat-words, has rigol thus: “the rim or ‘eyebrow’ above a port-hole or scuttle”; but I could not find the term elsewhere.
Scupper – Most often used in its plural form (scuppers), this is an opening in a ship’s side to let water run off the deck (Scott, Foresman).
Scuttlebutt – Scupper can also be styled scuttle, which more commonly means “to sink a ship.” (The words are related in the sense of a hole in the side—in the latter case, an unwanted one!) Butt, by contrast, is a very old term for a cask or barrel; one with a “scuttle” would be for public drinking—a place where sailors often gathered to chat. And believe it or not, by this very long derivation we get the current meaning of scuttlebutt: “gossip or rumor.” (Online Etymology Dictionary)
Spindrift – “Spray swept by a violent wind along the surface of the sea”; also spoondrift (Random House).
Spinnaker – “A large three-cornered sail, typically bulging when full, set forward of the mainsail of a yacht when running before the wind” (Concise Oxford American Dictionary). If you’ve never seen Carl Reiner’s corny but comical Summer Rental (1985), all I can is: “John Candy’s pants.”
Timoneer – “Someone who steers a ship”—or, alternately, drives a fire engine (Collins). So called because “timon” is another term for steering wheel.
Tunny – British slang for “tuna.”
Yarr – Perhaps a variant of “yeah,” this is a shipboard acknowledgment of—or agreement with—an order.
With one final nod to NauticEd for help, here are more I couldn’t get to: athwart, avast, banyan, bitt, bollard, bottomry, embay, gaff, garboard, halyard, hawser, holystone, kelson, larboard, privateer, strake, topgallant, windlass and yaw.
Shiver me timbers if we haven’t herewith reached installment No. 99 in these Weird Word columns. I’ll see you here next week for our centennial.
Yarr.