A bunch of rope yarns

by Stanton H. King

When the sailor stands his lonely watch at night, with the sea around him calm and peaceful as the sleep of his tired shipmates, slumbering below, the spreading canopy above him covered with countless stars, shew to him God’s handiwork. Again he is called on deck, the barometer has fallen, dark threatening clouds have gathered to windward and are rolling towards his craft. His vessel now groaning under the pressure of the gale with lee scuppers awash, the sea wild and fierce as an untamed beast, the lightning darting through the black and frightening sky, all speak to him of a higher power; and as many a bad man has a good mother, so many a sailor, who, although living a life of recklessness, has no doubt of the existence of God, and that He is good.

The sailor has a religious nature. He is as other men and should be treated as such. Some seamen drink to excess, swear immoderately, and live loosely, so do some men on shore. I think it not only unnecessary, but wrong to approach a clean respectable seaman as he enters our presence and pounce upon him as though he were an object of our special religious efforts, or as though he required our charity, and thereby make him feel that he needs reforming.

I have met seaman’s missionaries who have told me that they have not time to entertain sailors, as their stay in port is of so short a duration that they feel it their duty to seek the salvation of Jack’s soul. Naturally such a missionary would have his mission strictly religious, if I may use such an expression. I have been shipmate with men who conversed about such places, and would never enter their doors, knowing what to expect therein. Who is there among us that would enter a Church, if we felt that we were numbered among the fallen and it was known among the congregation that the service, the singing, and the sermon were for our special benefit?

I say again that the important aim of a sailor’s mission is the salvation of men for this world and all others, and any mission which fails in that is no better nor worse than a respectable club, which in itself is a grand institution. I understand the great desire there is in the Christian heart to have the men of the sea openly confess Christ as their Saviour, and of their aim to save them to Eternal Life with God; but are we reaching the great mass of seamen when we make our mission a church? A sailor’s mission is a church; but it is also a home for him while in port. It is not intended merely for use once or twice a week, but it is open from early morning till late at night, every day in the year, just as every home is open to the family that dwells therein. What sort of a home would it be with nothing in it but religious exercises? Where only hymns are sung, nothing is read but the Bible, no conversation but that of the joy of Heaven and the torture of Hell, no laughter, fun or frivolity, only the quiet, sober, slow going actions of a feeble person? Such a home to say the least would not only be monotonous but killing, especially to young people having physical, social and mental wants, as well as spiritual longings. Personally I will say that such a home would sink and submerge me into ineptitude. We have not reached Heaven yet, we are still on earth and to my liking, if Heaven is as some describe it, I for one prefer to remain on earth, or go to some place like it.

We have come to understand what St. Paul meant when he said our bodies are temples of the Holy Ghost, and that we are to glorify God in our bodies as well as in our spirit. Realizing this we have established gymnasiums for the development of the physical, built libraries for the growth of the mental and we support clubs for the improvement of the social.

Now if we who live on shore provide these things which go to make up the whole man, why should we expect the sailor to be debarred from them? Sure enough he doesn’t need a gymnasium for exercise, he gets enough of that aboard his ship, but he does enjoy these other things of which I speak. Men pay large sums of money to join certain social clubs, and some who do not believe in clubs unite themselves with the Young Men’s Christian Association, but the sailor is expected to be content to sit in some religious reading room, stripped of all home appearances for the sake of sanctity, where, when the hour of the prayer meeting comes, he must put away his magazine to attend the meeting or go out on the street. Were I a sailor I would choose the street at such a time, that by so doing dispel from the missionary’s mind the idea that I was a bad child who needed his correction, and give him the thought that I were a man, if he could so receive it.

When the sailor visits the mission, his supposed home while in port, he does not care to sing hymns all the time, he will not constantly read the Bible for he enjoys the literature of the day. We must provide for him the homelife, sociability and freedom in the mission, or he will find it in that most democratic social settlement, the saloon. What we need is more good judgment, the knack of being a companion and a friend, and catch the meaning of the social teaching of Christ. “Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these.”

The majority of people believe that sailors have a religious nature and all who are acquainted with Jack know how strong a social mortal he is. Whatever else he may lack, he surely has a longing for fun and frolic. It is easy for us to understand why his social instincts are so predominant when ashore, and knowing that he desires fun and amusement we place them in his home, thereby keeping him from seeking it in places whose very atmosphere is contaminating.

When a ship is in port and the day’s work is over, the men are anxious to leave the forecastle and hasten to the shore, where they may find enjoyment. They are away from their homes and loved ones, they have been isolated from the world perhaps for months, they have seen only the faces of their own shipmates, they have exchanged their thoughts till each man’s knowledge is thread worn. The work has become tiresome for want of change, the voyage with all its changes of storm and calm has grown monotonous. They hail with delight the pilot and with a light heart they walk ashore. Now Jack’s social nature asserts itself, and he seeks a place to satisfy it. It may be he is taking his bag of clothes with him steering a course for a boarding house. Is he at home when he enters such a door? True enough he has the money to pay for what he eats and drinks and where he sleeps; but has this temporary abiding place that which satisfies his social life? Far from it.

Take the sailor who is working on his ship in port, or is staying in a boarding house. Ask him to attend Church? Will he follow you? Yes, if he knows you and you have won his confidence and respect, and he believes you think he is as you are, namely, that we all need the Church, wherein all, both sailor and landsman, may be helped.