One day at sea, Crossing the Equator

Thursday, March 21, 2019

As we approach the equator, our passage awakens the mighty King Neptune whose ire can be resisted by no pollywog. What am I talking about? Read on!

Where am I?

Crossing the equator

SO, WHAT’S BEEN HAPPENING

Today, we crossed the equator and there was a tradition to be upheld as we did.

This tradition is as old as anybody can remember and each seafaring group has their own way to carry it out. In the US Navy, it was tantamount to a hazing which was meant to embarrass (and sometimes even injure) sailors who had not previously crossed the equator. Holland America would never stand for a hazing ceremony (thank goodness) so they have their own way to commemorate this important event. Here’s how it was done aboard the Amsterdam.

The tradition involves waking up King Neptune by trespassing upon his domain without his permission. Illogically, this only seems to happen when a ship crosses the equator. King Neptune, as it turns out, casts a blind eye to those who have passed this way before and their “crimes” are ignored. These people are called shellbacks and they do not need to suffer for their “crimes.”

However, if this is a person’s first crossing (and the ship has not received any prior “temporary reprieve”) then that person is known as a slimy pollywog and must stand before King Neptune and his court to be punished for their “crimes” and made to be uncomfortable and humiliated for the duration of the court.

This might be easier to explain if I show you some screen shots of the 30-minute video that I took.

Before I share my screen grabs, please imagine the setting for the court. On this ship, the court is held around the pool on the Lido deck, midship. This is the area I showed you earlier that has the dome that opens up to let the outside in. There is a “pulpit” for the judge who, oddly, does not do any judging at all! Then there is a throne area set aside for King Neptune and his mermaid queen. There is then a place for five senior officers of the ship who will do the actual judging of the pollywogs. There is also a “jail” where the pollywogs are contained until it is their turn to kneel before the officers and receive their judgement.

OK, let’s start with the photos.

With loudspeakers blaring Chopin’s Funeral March, the “judge” makes his entrance. In this case, the judge is our cruise director, Hamish.

Here come da Judge! Here come da Judge!

Next comes King Neptune himself, with his lovely mermaid queen. Here, King Neptune is actually Ian, our shore excursion location expert. I’m not at all sure who the lovely mermaid queen is.

The grand entrance of King Neptune and his alluring mermaid queen.

Next to appear are the ship’s senior officers, all of whom seem more than willing to administer the punishments to the pollywogs among their crew.

The senior officers

With all of the officiators in place, the slimy pollywogs are brought in “tied” in a line with a long length of rope. They are escorted to the jail to await their turn before the officers, King Neptune, and all the creatures of the briny deep.

The slimy pollywogs arrive and are jailed

In groups of no more than four, the pollywogs kneel before the officers as their “crimes” are announced. The guy in the white t-shirt is Doolin, an assistant cruise director. As an example, his “crime” was being too well known to head to the bar after his shift was complete. At this point with their “crimes” announced, the pollywogs could (uselessly) beg for mercy.

The first step in each pollywogs contrition is to step up and kiss the fish! Here we see Doolin sneaking a little smooch from this large, slimy and slightly stinky denizen of the deep. In a later conversation with Doolin, he told me he never actually got close enough to the fish to make lip contact, however, I think this photos speaks otherwise.

Did he really kiss the fish? He says no. The photo suggests “yes!”

The next step in the punishment is to proceed to one of four tables placed around the pool. Each table was supplied with a large plastic container full of freshly made meringue in a variety of pastel colors. Shellbacks working at each table slathered the meringue onto both sides of the poor pollywog lying on the table. After being well coated, the pollywogs would return to the senior officers for final judgement.

Coat ’em well, ye shellbacks!

If the senior officers were feeling lenient toward the group of ‘wogs they would order them to be thrown into the drink. In this case the drink was the pool. This was a light punishment indeed.

One punishment: throw ’em in the drink.

On the other hand, if the “crimes” were deemed severe, the pollywogs would be ordered to take a seat on the sidelines and bake like a cake! Can you imagine being covered in meringue, and sitting in the sun for up to half an hour while that meringue began to stiffen up and solidify? Yuck!

A far worse punishment: bake like a cake!

This process was repeated again and again in groups of four (or less) until every pollywog had been accused, sentenced, and punished. Oh, and I didn’t yet mention that there was a distinct advantage to being one of the first groups to face the judicial process because those that needed to wait were met with frequent dowsings of ice cold water!

Gotta keep those pollywogs cool, ya know!

At the end of the ceremony which lasted about 30 minutes, everybody aboard the ship was inducted by decree into the Ancient Order of Shellbacks. This includes me.

“Wait a minute!” I’m sure you’re saying to yourselves. “How did Robert become a shellback having never stood before the court nor been punished for his crimes?” Well, the answer should be as obvious to you as it is to me.

I’m a complete innocent.

Now, in case you didn’t get a good look at that deep sea beauty that was getting all of the action today, here s/he is in his/her magnificent oceanic glory. Now, ask yourself and then tell me truly: Would you have kissed the fish?

I really want to know. I await your Reply.

What’s coming up?

Tomorrow, we pull into Singapore for two days. This should be good!

Author: Robert Farrell

Robert Farrell is a retired programmer turned financial planner and now trying to become a great traveller. Born in San Diego, Robert has lived in a variety of California cities before finally moving to Arizona. He enjoys travel of any sort (including via Harley Davidson) but especially loves cruise ships.

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