A sailing ship of yore had “main engines” made of canvas and rope. A full-rigged (e.g., three-masted) ship might be able to spread as much as an acre of canvas aloft when seeking to derive some movement from gentle zephyrs.
All of that canvas and associated sparring either was held in place or manipulated by a myriad of ropes—upward of ten miles. That portion of the rigging intended to hold the masts in place was termed “standing rigging,” meaning that once it was set up it was left alone, or allowed to stand. The many lines used to raise yardarms into position, swing them to port or starboard, or adjust the sails suspended from them collectively were known as “running rigging,” because much of it had to be adjusted each time the skipper wanted to maneuver his ship, or when the wind changed direction.
Each sail had its own inventory of sheets, tacks, lifts, clews, brails, and other lines, each with a specific purpose. Each, too, was attached to a specific point, run through specific blocks (pulleys), and secured (fastened) to designated positions about the ship’s upper decks. A fully qualified seaman was expected to know all such details about more than 400 lines.
And so it is, even for a landlubber, a mark of considerable commendation, to say that either he or she “knows the ropes.”
