Sweet water Ray,
as he is spoke

Ray Skelton's title at the Duluth Seaway Port Authority is environmental and government affairs director because, in polite society, we don't know what else to call him. It may be instructive, however, to note the acronym for his title is EGAD. (An exclamation point is optional.)

On page 8, Ray, an old salt turned sweet water sailor, describes some nautical terms unique to the Great Lakes. The illustration is by local artist and frequent Duluth News-Tribune editorial cartoonist Steve Lindstrom.

Ray and I disagreed on "blowin' a gagger." My ear has always interpreted it as "blowin' a geiger." I thought it may have an obscure meteorological meaning or perhaps a connection with Mr. Geiger's counter.

But Ray - not always right but rarely in doubt - sailed for many years on merchant ships and presumably found time to research such esoteric stuff. Moreover, Ray's mother was an English teacher and he grew up with a fondness for words.

Words. I like words. Use 'em every day.

I recently read that the first recorded word in English was a nautical one. According to the British Fairplay magazine, an international maritime weekly founded in 1883, the word "cylle" (as in "keel") can be traced back 1,600-plus years.

Fairplay was editorializing about a European Union grant to the University of Wales to examine the feasibility of an international working language for seafarers.

"Where better for such a project," Fairplay opined, than a country (Wales) in which the last vestiges survive of the first language to be totally subsumed by English?"

The piece, whimsically titled "English as She Is Spoke," argues that any fabricated seafarers' language must be based upon English because, after all, it has become entrenched as the language of international trade. And, as the magazine says, "few (other languages) are as forgiving to the inept user."

I'm reminded of a comment frequently used by my friend Ross Gaudreault, Port of Quebec director, when addressing English-speaking audiences. In a strong French-Canadian accent, Monsieur Gaudreault says, "I will speak in English - or in something reasonably close to it."

Foreign sailors often learn English the hard way - from shipmates (not always Oxford scholars themselves) and from people on the docks or in the streets of port cities. English-language movies and TV shows add to their self-education.

The resultant grammar and pronunciation add credence to the notion that the most commonly spoken language in the world is bad English. Or, as a locally popular nightclub entertainer, Bobby Aro, used to say, "I'm not Finnish, but my English was."

Language difficulties are only one element of the struggles faced by merchant sailors, especially these days when ships are often in port for only hours instead of days.

Strangers almost anywhere they go, sailors are ignored by virtually everyone ashore except for seafarers' clubs and ministries. (In the Port of Duluth-Superior, we are blessed with one of the nation's best shoreside outreach services, the Twin Ports Ministry to Seafarers, Inc., ably directed for more than 25 years by the Rev. Norbert Mokros).

Of interest to sailors and those who care about them, there is a wonderful reference book now on the market published by the Seamen's Church Institute of New York and New Jersey. Entitled The Nicos J. Vardinoyannis Seafarers' Handbook, it covers everything from seafarers' right to pollution prevention, ship safety, the elements of navigation and universal clothing size equivalents.

It may be ordered from the Seamen's Church Institute, 241 Water Street, New York, NY 10038, telephone (212) 349-9090. The cost is $23 including shipping.

The handbook includes some useful phrases in English, French and Spanish and also has a chapter on "Ship Talk." It was clear, however, that the authors had not consulted Captain Skelton.