Naval Customs and Traditions

 O tempora! O mores!

The Navy has some timeless traditions, honoured and respected, owing to the sweat, blood and tears that have been shed by officers and sailors, since the time the first intrepid man stepped out into the sea, to explore the unexplored, chart the uncharted and navigate the un-navigated. These tradions, for the uninitated, would seem strange, maybe even bizzare. But, they hold a cosy corner in the heart of every seafarer, past and present, and am sure, as long as the adventurism and glamour of the sea beckons, it will warm the cockles of the hearts of future mariners as well. (Btw, these traditions cut across the navies of the world ... I've been on French, Australian, US and British warships, and the experience has been the same, nay, identical)

Let me try to present a pleasant flavour of those traditions, ... a couple of them, that relates to the evening hours after sunset, when dusk has fallen, twilight has reluctantly given way to the soft darkness of the night, and sundowners are ready to be downed

Before we come to that, we have to address the change of rig

The rig, in Naval parlance, is the uniform worn by Naval officers and sailors (Tradition no. 1). There are dozens of uniforms that we wear, each appropriate to a day, hour, time, season or occasion, ... but, I'll keep that aside for another day.  At sunset, the national flag is lowered on board Naval ships and establishments (Tradition no. 2). Soon afterwards, in summer time, Officers jettison their day dress (it could be anything from No. 2 to 4 to 4A to 8 to 8A to 9 or 10 ... that's another story, for another day), freshen up, and slip into what's known as the Red Sea rig (aka 6Bs ... Tradition no. 3; btw, all the Navies of Commonwealth countries, have the same uniforms and ranks)

The destination now, is the Officers Mess. But, then, the Navy, strictly, doesn't have an Officers Mess; instead, it has what's known as the Wardroom (Tradition no. 4). Once in there, the officer is now bubbling for the bubbly, or for any of the amber or colourless fluids, depending on his preferred poison, to wet his beak and quench his thirst. That's when Tradition no. 5 jumps in. There're no bars in the Wardroom. Instead we have an Ante-room, with the choicest fluids lined up, for admiring, savouring or imbibing. There's a chair reserved for the Vice President of the Mess Committee (VPMC), the seniormost officer on board, below the Commanding Officer (CO)/ Captain. This chair is never occupied by anyone, much less, by any lesser mortal (Tradition no. 6). "Why not the CO," you may ask. "Simple," I say.  Because, the CO on his own ship, is never a member of the Wardroom (Tradition no. 7).  He can't walk into the Wardroom, and comes in, only if invited by the VPMC or any other member of the Mess (btw, all officers on board, are members of the Mess). Thus, the Wardroom is possibly the only place on the warship, that the Captain of the ship has no access to (Tradition no. 8)

Onward ho, now, to the last tradition for this post. Once the glasses are filled with the choicest fluids, a toast is raised by the officers, to the sound of *Cheers*. However, unlike at other social do's, no clinking of glasses here (Tradition no. 9). That's because, the sound of clinking glasses is uncannily similar to the solemn toll of the ship's bell, that's sounded, when a sailor dies and is buried at sea. It is believed that the clinking sound will herald the death of a sailor

Btw, a seaman who dies on board is not buried at sea. Instead  he's committed to Davy Jone's Locker  at the bottom of the sea

So much, for now. Godspeed, fair winds and following seas .... till we meet again

Yours aye,

AlphaAlpha