Word for Wednesday goes piratical for ITLAPD.
Ahoy me mateys! ’tis Wednesday again ‘n time t’ look at words ‘cos how can ye not be lovin’ yer etymology? Today’s words are ripe ‘n salty, ’cause today be International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Ye can call me a tailed imp’s elder, though that would set me fair to guttin’ ye like a rum-boggled sea bass, but ’tis no time fer violence, ‘cause we be heedin’ th’ call o’ the sea.
More’n half th’ problem wit’ natterin’ like pirates be that while ye might “yo ho ho” and “shiver me timbers” wit’ th’ best o’ them, ‘n sling about phrases like “salty ole seadog” ‘n “arr”, most pirate natter be peppered wit’ obscure nautical terms which slip out o’ one’s head quicker’n a greasy kraken.
Wha’ th’ Davy Jones’ locker be a topsail halyard ‘n how do ye hoist it?
Wha’s a bowsprit?
How do ye splice a mainbrace?
Can ye do so, ye freebootin’ powder monkey?
Aye, ’tis a sore puzzle t’ scurvy landlubbers wit’ dreams o’ corsairs in thar black-souled hearts.
Now, ye might be ready t’ teach yer barnacle-covered Nan t’ suck cackle-fruit, in which case heave ho, ye son of a biscuit-eater, ye’ve no further business here. But if ye’re three sheets t’ th’ wind on enough rum t’ float th’ Royal Navy, an’ th’ lingo’s no easier t’ ken, read on.
Because that’s the end of the pirating for now – fun though it is – it’s time to consider words.
First up, though, some resources.
One of my favourite spots on the interwebs is The Phrontistery – a thinking place and the home of the International House of Logorrhea. I can’t recommend it highly enough. They have a delightful list of nautical terms full of delicious words like futtock, bunt, cofferdam and windbound.
See the Sea has a very clear list of nautical terms with some brief and illuminating notes on the nautical origins of terms like “a couple of shakes” meaning a short time, hazing and being “at loose ends”. Worth a look, I think.
The Pirate Glossary is full of fun facts – famous pirates, the anatomy of a ship, weapons and flags – as well as insults and phrases. It’s clear, comprehensive and kind of fabulous.
So, with all of that at our disposal, we could talk pirate all day, but instead I want to spread a little scuttlebutt and look at scuttling and scuppers.
A scuttlebutt is the shipboard equivalent of the office water cooler and of the gossip that’s exchanged around it. Butt is one of those hard-working words which mean a lot of different things because they’ve all snuck in over the centuries from different sources – Frankish, Dutch, Old French, Norse, etc, etc. The relevant source for scuttlebutt is from Late Latin “buttis” meaning cask – which became “bot” for a barrel in Old French.
So we’ve got a barrel full of drinking water on deck, yo ho me hearties.
Now a scuttle is a hole or covered hatch in a ship – possibly derived from the Old French “éscoutille” to cut something to make it fit, or directly from the Spanish word “escotilla” for hatchway – and a scuttle can be used for scuttling, deliberately sinking, the ship. Of course, the water barrel would have had a hole cut in it to allow a cup or dipper to get in and scoop out some water. I think that the theory that the dipper had holes cut in it to stop sailors from lingering and gossiping over their water break sounds a bit stupid – you don’t want to go wasting fresh water on sea voyages.
Aye, drink yer Adam’s ale through a sieve, while we stand around and laugh.
Just as you can scuttle a ship to prevent enemy capture by cutting holes or opening the seacocks in the hull, you can deliberately ruin a plan by scuttling it. So far, so clear.
But what about if you scupper it?
Scuppers, as a noun, refers to the holes cut in the bulwarks of a ship to allow water on deck to drain off. It may derive from some more Old French – “escopir”, meaning to spit out – because as long as your scuppers are spitting out the water you’re less likely to sink. It may also refer to Margaret Wise Brown’s sailor dog, Scuppers, but only if you’ve had the pleasure of his Little Golden Book company.
Of course, if you were to die on deck you might be washed into the scuppers, which may be where it got its negative meaning of to be killed or to ruin something.
But according to modern definitions, to scupper is to sink your own ship on purpose. No, wait – that’s to scuttle it! Well, it would appear that the two have become synonymous. Ah, the English language. A rich grab bag of mutable stuff – it’s unsinkable.
All of which means that you should feel free to scupper or scuttle or shiver yer timbers for ITLAPD – just remember to abandon ship for the first two.