A Life on the Ocean Waived

For centuries the Royal Navy, the Senior Service, has been an exclusively male domain.

This is perfectly understandable given the inhuman, squalid and insanitary conditions to be expected on board ship for much of it's history, particularly in the days under sail power. Months or even years at sea and the perils of the oceans will have been more than enough for most men but add to that the possibility of conflict, ill health, accident, violence, drunkeness and many other potential afflictions and fates makes for a particular hardness of soul and character.

A life in the old style Royal Navy was seen as a career path for the Officers and enlisted ranks, a shot at proudly serving the Nation, ascending the hierarchy of command and securing a pension if unfortunate enough to be a second, third or lower son and therefore unlikely to inherit any family estate or wealth.

The common crew members signed up or were press-ganged and escaped poverty or criminal proceedings in some instances, running away to sea as a last desparate option for survival but not at all guranteed for that.

This structure on board, based on the Class Structure ashore, was the basis for a far ranging British Empire and the dominance of the Royal Navy as the pre-eminent sea power supported and supplemented the colonial exploitation of much of the globe.

Life on board will have been tough.

The actual day to day privations will be difficult for us to imagine or appreciate today, beyond graphic dramatisations in such movies as Master and Commander or the Tv series of Hornblower. Cramped conditions of a combined living and sleeping area mixed in with operational parts of the ship made for a stifling atmosphere and a breeding ground for disease. The linkage between scurvy brought on by vitamin deficiency and the benefits of fresh provisions would not be made for many decades.

The rum ration sustained and stupified but then again could be relied upon to render the crew compliant and capable of disciplining by the few Officers and senior ranks on board.

Luxuries and comforts will have been few apart from those sought and obtained during lay-offs in friendly Ports or on allied shores although in many areas of the known world living conditions will have been primitive and as hazardous for health and welfare as on board.

Even on a short rota basis of being on duty or on watch there will have been some form of downtime and any definition of entertainment or culture will have been broad and varied.

The main characters in the Patrick O'Brian 20 novel series of the nautical adventures and lifestyles of Captain Jack Aubrey and the naval physician Stephen Maturin as filmed in Master and Commander were depicted as having a sophisticated side to their otherwise functional roles. Fiddle and Cello recitals, the reading of literature of the day and the application of the sciences replaced gunnery practice, crude surgical procedures and the rigours of man management in the senior ranks.

The Officers Mess, invariably yet another use of the Captains cabin, on the fact based but fictional HMS Surprise , hosted the main formal dining in full dress uniform and it was in this setting that the Naval tradition of raising glasses and toasting was perpetuated.

The feasting was not of course on a daily basis but mainly to celebrate a victory or momentous feat or when safely anchored. The toasts epitomised a life at sea and the isolation and detachment that accompanied a long tour of duty. A few of the toasts are written in the language of the 18th and 19th century which represented the halcyon days for British sea power.

Thursdays were dedicated to "a bloody war or a sickly season". Friday was "a willing foe and sea-room", wednesdays were more woeful and fatalistic in toasting "ourselves (as no one else is likely to concern themselves with our welfare)".

The early part of the week covered "absent friends" (Sundays), "our ships at sea" (Mondays) and "our men" (Tuesdays) but the most meaningful and poignant was reserved for the saturday night. The sentiment of a toast to "our wives and sweethearts" followed by the whimsical and possibly truthful response of "may they never meet" has been a mainstay around the Officers Table for decades but has now been revised to reflect the cultural changes in wider society.

In the pursuit of a modern and inclusive Royal Navy two of the toasts have been re-written.

It is now a case on a tuesday for "our sailors" to be feted to reflect equality and diversity and the saturday version now just simply states "Our families".

I am sure that Captain Jack Aubrey will have appreciated the need to update a very masculine phraseology but will no doubt have been a little sad at the loss of this aspect of an illustrious history and tradition. Hoorah.