Superstitions have one overriding purpose among human beings: to give a sense of control and order to a chaotic and dangerous universe. It seems as though people have created superstitions to accommodate every occasion, day, hour, animal and profession. But perhaps it is the sailor who has the greatest number of superstitions. Ancient sailors in particular clung to their odd beliefs in order to secure riches and safety while at sea. Many of these traditions persist to this day and have culminated in a belief system that is unlike anything else on earth.

Perhaps you've heard of some of these beliefs, like untying knots in a rope to bring favorable winds or never leaving port on a certain day of the week? It seems like the sailor has a code for almost everything he owned or did. Umbrellas and playing cards were forbidden. Hanging up some garlic will deflect witchcraft. Dolphins are good, sharks are bad. The list goes on and on, but is there a greater meaning behind these obscure rituals?

Like many superstitious people, the sailor would borrow or adapt other beliefs as needed. For centuries, sailors felt that their success at sea had much more to do with the whims of nautical gods than anything else. As a result, they were careful not to offend the deities of the deep. Once the Christian age had begun in Europe, many pagan beliefs still persisted on board ship, as did the belief that the old gods still held sway over the oceans. As a result, the sailor generally eschews Christian beliefs and icons. Crucifixes, images of Christ, Bibles and priests were often seen as unlucky once a sea voyage had begun. Since Christian superstitions were well known among seamen, many would have images of crucifixes tattooed on their backs. That way, if their commanding officers ever decided to give the man the common punishment of twenty-four lashes, the boson's mate would have to flog Christ at the same time. Although there's no evidence that such tattoos ever spared a delinquent sailor from the whip, the legend persisted throughout the 18th century.

Reading the Bible at sea also carried considerable risk unless you were performing a burial. In 1707, a condemned sailor being marched to the yardarm gallows aboard the HMS Association shouted out the 109th Psalm:

"May his days be few; may another seize his goods! May his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow!... Let there be none to extend kindness to him!"

The sailor's curse was undoubtedly meant for his commanding officer, Adm. Sir Cloudesley Shovell. Shovell had condemned the man when he suggested that the Association was off-course and sailing into the rock-filled waters near the Scilly Islands. Shovell clearly did not like being second-guessed, but the following day the dead sailor's assertions (and curse) were realized when the Association and her attendant ships crashed on the rocks with a loss of 1,700 men.

Fate had even more in store for Shovell, however. According to stories told years after the Association sank, Shovell was washed alive but unconscious onto the beach of St. Mary's Island. There, a wicked local woman chopped off his fingers to steal his gold rings and then buried the Admiral alive. (According to the British Admiralty, however, Shovell's official cause of death is drowning and his remains are interred at West Minster Abbey.)

Tragedies like the sinking of the Association must have played heavily on the minds of sailors, and they were constantly on the look out for dangerous omens. Sea monsters were a common fear; so many sailors would carry special talisman's to ward them off. The monsters in question might have been the common shark (which, if seen following a ship meant imminent death) or the more supernatural kraken, serpent or giant squid.

If all the rituals and good-luck charms failed and a man died at sea, at least he could look forward to reincarnation as a sea bird. The souls of dead sailors were said to inhabit seagulls, petrels and other birds that generally stayed close to the shoreline. To harm a seabird was extremely bad luck. In 1959, the crew of the cargo vessel Calpean Star abandoned the ship because they claimed a caged albatross onboard was responsible for a series of unfortunate events including recurring engine trouble. The Calpean Star's captain eventually found a new crew, but only after the albatross had died in its cage.

So maritime superstitions are confined to the sailor alone, right? Wrong. These beliefs are so old and so ingrained that they will often reach the highest levels among sea-faring folk. The British Admiralty, for example, spends a great deal of time and effort finding the perfect name for a new warship. What difference does this make, you ask? Well, the Admiralty noticed that certain names fared better than others in war did. Reptile-related names are banned now, once the British realized that they had lost four Vipers, four Serpents, one Cobra, one Adder, one Alligator, one Crocodile, two Snakes, two Dragons and three Lizards.

Maybe there's something to these superstitions after all?

[This information was originally transmitted as an enewsletter in August 2005.]