They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters;
These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep.
For He commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind,
which lifteth up the waves thereof.
They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths:
Their soul is melted because of trouble.
They reel to and from, and stagger like a drunken man,
and are at their wit’s end.
Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble,
and He bringeth them out of their distress.
He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.
Then they are glad because they be so quiet,
So He bringeth them unto their desired haven.
– The Bible: Psalm 107, Versus 23-31
Someone asked me recently why I have such an affinity for all things nautical. I’ve often thought about or spoken of my passion for the sea, for its often brutal history, for the infinite secrets locked in its depths. But why do I care? Why should anyone care?
My answer: I want to have a happy fulfilled life… and if the hierarchy of the afterlife is determined by how one obeyed the moral rule book, I want to be assured a front seat on the heavenly bus.
Whether you believe in the tenets of creationism – that humans in present form were placed directly upon the earth by the hand of God, or if you subscribe to the theory of evolution preferring to accept that millenia ago our predecessors occupied a place in the primordial morass right alongside the protozoa – our link to the sea at the most basic level is undeniable.
Indeed, the essential elements comprising the very blood in our veins equates very nearly to the chemical composition of seawater. Or were you aware that other than the proboscis monkey, humans are the only primate – the only land-dwelling mammal in fact – whose nostrils open downward, thereby facilitating forward movement under water? Consider further, that most of us think of the deep end of the pool as being as deep as we can go without the assistance of scuba gear. But in certain cultures (like those that pearl or sponge dive), repeated dives down to 100 feet are routine, while certified human freediving records extend well beyond 800 feet (831 feet actually, or 253.2 meters, by Austrian Herbert Nitsch in 2012)! All things considered, a substantial argument can be made to support the premise that we are quite comfortable in and at one with the sea and that this relationship is no accident
Can anyone deny the soothing effects of a walk upon the beach, even if the toes just barely touch the terminal little foamy licks proffered up by the surf? Or how relaxing the gentle lapping of waves against your boat’s hull sounds? When mood enhancing tapes first appeared on the market, was it not the soothing sound of the surf that topped the charts (rain forest tree frogs not withstanding)? Is it any wonder why no matter where you go the world over, the price of land increases dramatically the closer to the water’s edge you get? And it seems to be no coincidence that arguably one of the greatest novels ever penned – Moby Dick – was authored by an average writer who simply opened his heart and mind and let the sea rush in. In fact, is there any one subject or setting which has inspired more literature than the sea? Chalk it up to the ultimate of all inspirations.
So much of our culture stems from the sea… a great portion of our language, too. Even our modern laws and customs are based in early admiralty and maritime jurisprudence. The laws by which we govern modern societies are all extrapolations of the rules of shipboard life. Same goes for instilling the concepts of teamwork and relying on others, a requisite developed on deck eons ago and now so essential to success in everything from business to sports. And the next time you stop at a traffic light, remember that the red/green/amber color scheme was borrowed directly from the light signals used onboard ships to determine rights of way.
Refer back to the opening quotation of this piece. Call me closed or single minded, but other than carpenters (who build the boats), fishermen (who fill the boats) and prostitutes (who wait for the boats), the only occupation deemed worthy for inclusion in The Good Book were “…those that go down to the sea in ships.”
Perhaps someone is trying to tell us something?