More About "Safety First, Second, or Third"
(See page 1144, August, 1937, PROCEEDINGS)
(See page 1626, November, 1937, PROCEEDINGS)
(See page 261, February, 1938, PROCEEDINGS)
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER J. H. B. V. WEELDEREN, U. S. NAVAL RESERVE.—The subject brought up by Lieutenant James Hanna in his article in the August issue of the Naval Institute PROCEEDINGS has evidently been "thought-provoking" enough to draw criticism from both the Navy and the Merchant Marine. I refer to the articles of Lieutenant Paul E. Rowell, U. S. Navy (Retired), and Captain Edward C. Holden, Jr. Neither of these gentlemen has a word of praise for the ideas contained in Lieutenant Hanna's discussion, which would make it appear that the originator of the "Safety Third" Slogan was very much on the wrong side of the fence.
Judging the subject of sufficient importance to elicit further comment and discussion I am taking up the cudgels for Lieutenant Hanna, and place myself unequivocally on his side, even if it were only out of sympathy for his loneliness:
When I entered the seagoing fraternity 30 years ago after 12 years of schooling, the last three in a Naval Academy, the three foremost things in my mind, and in the minds of my 23 classmates, were obedience and loyalty to my superiors, honor, and duty. Safety, I must admit, did not adventure it offered; the opportunity of getting away from the slow, humdrum life ashore. We knew seagoing was hazardous; hardships were in store for us; comforts of life were to be left behind for the landlubbers to enjoy—what of it?
Of course we had been taught to be careful; we learned the old axiom: “When aloft always have one hand for the ship, the other for yourself,” very sound safety advice often disregarded. It makes me smile to think of what sailing-ship men would have said had the mate suggested the use of safety belts while on the yards. Safety belts to men who chased each other up the rigging and slid down the back stays just for the “hell of it”! However, these old-timers probably were not intelligent enough to realize the danger of their playfulness, so let us return to the present, where men are men and safety comes first.
In the first place, to avoid misunderstanding, let me explain that I do not advocate taking undue or uncalled for chances just to “show off”; I have been in the game too long for that. I do agree with Lieutenant Hanna, however, where he states that “duty” should be first, danger or no danger, and I cannot see why this should meet with any opposition from any quarter, except perhaps from the side of some Life and Accident Insurance companies (the subtle forces?) who are naturally more interested in sailor’s indemnities than in his duties and loyalty to the owners of his ship.
In the daily performance of his duties a seaman meets numerous dangers created partly by the peculiarities of his floating abode, but mostly by the prankishness and unreliability of Mother Nature. For anyone to think that a ship, tossed about like a cork on 30- or 40-foot waves in the teeth of an Atlantic gale, can be or should be a safe place to work or live, is admitting he has little or no knowledge of the facts. Under such conditions a person is not even safe in bed, and to go out on deck, with the vessel properly hove to, to batten down a hatch when the tarpaulin is loosening up, is far from a safe procedure. Yet duty tells us that it has to be done, and it will be done as long as men are men and not mice.
Dangers of this kind are “inherent dangers of our particular industry” (page 1628, November issue), and I do not see any possible way of avoiding taking considerable chances in protecting the owner’s property under such circumstances. Intelligence may tell us that the odds are very much against us in trying to accomplish the battening-down job and that it no doubt would be much safer for us to let the cargo “go hang,” but if we are that intelligent we should apply for a job in a drugstore where we can play safe and still be efficient. The sea, police department, fire department, and the like, have no room for such intelligence.
A sailor’s profession requires skill and a certain amount of nerve and courage, and here is where I cannot fathom the logic of Captain Holden’s statement (page 263, February issue): “Intelligent seafarers know that real courage is based on intelligence, that it is safe to be brave because the foundation of genuine safety is skill, not fear; etc.” To be brave, or courageous, is to be daring, fearless, bold; to have perfect disdain for personal danger. Where then enters this fearlessness, this daring, when there is perfect safety? It seems to me the Captain’s anchor dragged badly here, or did he break his chain?
To be sure the foundation of genuine safety is skill, not a “Safety First, Take No Chances” sign. How often has that sign amused and angered me. How I would like to change it to: “Safety first, take no chances, STAY HOME.” Skill is the very thing we need among our seamen, and how can we obtain it under the present conditions? Men are put on the ships today by the unions not to skillfully and conscientiously perform their duties, but to organize the crew. They hold meetings, appoint ship’s delegates, decide whether or not the ship is being run to suit them, and if things do not meet with their approval the delegates are sent up to the master of the ship to tell him how to change matters to their satisfaction. Should he refuse they promptly sit down in the next port and force his hand. Their idea of duty is: “do as little as possible and make them pay double for whatever you might do.” Safety devices are very welcome to this type of non-working working man because he can waste much time arranging and rearranging his safety belt, life line, life preserver, and what-not, instead of putting in a decent day’s work.
Let me give an example of the efficiency of our modern sailor. A few years ago I was master on the tanker Agwiworld. While in New York one of the men accidentally unrove the mainmast gantline. After leaving port the house flag fouled and could not be downed. As there was no gantline to haul a man up in a boatswain’s chair (by the way a breeches buoy would be safer: here is a tip for safety engineers), someone had to climb up the bare topmast. For two days several of our so-called sailors, including the boatswain (without his chair), tried in vain to get to the maintop. Today they would no doubt call a meeting and demand that the company install an elevator in the mast for their comfort and safety. At any rate the flag remained in the top till two days before our arrival in port, when at about 8:00 P.M., it being dark enough for the crew not to see me, I sneaked up the mast and brought down the flag and gave it to the mate, who felt mortified.
As for Captain Holden’s suggestion to “look at the record and it will not show a case of cowardice, etc.,” it seems to me a dangerous suggestion. I remember an instance in my own experience, while mate on a coastwise vessel. During the night a fire broke out in the fireroom through a backfire igniting oil on the floor plates and spreading to the bilges. I was called at once, and when I arrived on deck after hastily putting on some clothes, I found about a dozen of our crew in the lifeboats getting them ready to swing out. Some had suitcases and bundles containing their belongings. Talk about speed, those boys were fast! Fire stations meant nothing to these men, they were so imbued with the “safety first” idea.
In his conclusion Captain Holden hits the nail on the head by stating that “we urgently need a practical and efficient system for the training of our unlicensed personnel.” Yes, it is skill and training we need to prevent accidents. The Captain also states here: “The good old sailing-ship standards of training for our young men will soon eliminate the weaklings.” But, my dear Captain, would you make our boys go up through the lubber’s hole instead of going to the top by the futtock-rigging just because you want them to learn the slogan: “safety first”? Or would you make them wear a safety belt shackled to the jackstay to hold them on the foot ropes? Would you?
To sum up: what we need is skillful, well-trained men, supervised by experienced officers, and the slogan: “BE EVER CAREFUL,” in lieu of “Safety First.”
Chief Petty Officers’ School of the Line
(See page 355, March, 1937, Proceedings) Lieutenant Commander Philip P. Welch, U. S. Navy.—Chief Yeoman Larmour suggests, in brief, that the value to the Navy of many chief petty officers could be enhanced by giving them additional opportunities to perform the duties of junior officers and by sending them to a chief petty officers’ school of the line, and that then they would be a valuable source of war-time temporary officers, more valuable than some less experienced reserve officers. These suggestions, published in the Proceedings in one of the two articles from enlisted men within the last three years, are deemed worthy of comment; the welfare of the chief petty officers is of concern and interest.
I agree with the author’s first premise; chief petty officers should be trained, as far as possible, to relieve officers, and this added responsibility, within their capacity, does enhance the value of these individuals to themselves and to the Navy. Through necessity the opportunities for training of chief petty officers are more pronounced on small units. It is unquestionably a source of great comfort to the captain of a small unit to know that, for example, in the case of incapacity of his engineer officer, he has a capable chief petty officer to fill his shoes temporarily, that his chief quartermaster is an able navigator, or that his fire controlman is an able range- keeper operator. On the larger ships, however, it is true that the same opportunities are not always made available; one reason for this is that the training of the young officers alone is frequently onerous and possibly at times detrimental to the immediate efficiency.
The bombing of the Panay offers another illustration of the value of training subordinates. The two senior officers were the first to be injured and eventually the command was left to an ensign. I have no doubt that the leading chief petty officer was a most capable assistant.
Several years ago, when in command of a destroyer in rotating reserve, with only one other officer aboard, one of my most pleasant and valuable lessons was to see how the chief petty officers and petty officers accepted and carried on the usual duties and responsibilities of watch officers. If this had not been the case, there would have been cause for concern. It indicated that the Navy is properly indoctrinated throughout its ranks and ratings.
This indoctrination, which I believe pervades the Navy, was defined by the following story, which was told by a British Army officer at the Army War College in 1918. An observer at the Indian Army maneuvers overheard two buglers discussing the probable plans of attack. One bugler said, “My general will re-enforce his right flank and will then try to envelope your left.” The other one answered: “Well, my general will make a feint at your left, but will concentrate and endeavor to break through your center.” As the maneuvers progressed, to the observer’s amazement, the two opposing generals did exactly this. “That, gentlemen, is indoctrination.”
The creation of a school of the line for chief petty officers would accomplish the purposes outlined, but many objections can be raised. In the first place, with the large turn-over of personnel the Navy more than ever needs its trained enlisted personnel to carry on in their assigned billets. The Navy seldom, in peace time, has the number of men it considers necessary to man its ships and stations. The active Navy, and especially the Fleet, prepares for active service at the moment, with its chief petty officers employed in the stations in which they contribute to the immediate maximum efficiency. Can the Navy afford to withdraw selected (the best) chief petty officers from these active billets to train them for possible service as war-time temporary officers? I believe that, in view of the objections, other means could be established which would give the same opportunity to qualify selected men for temporary service as war-time officers.
Could not training courses be given to cover the specified subjects, upon the completion of which an entry could be made in the service record? Or, could not the applicant apply to take an examination, after private study, in part or whole for professional qualification for a reserve commission? The textbooks are usually available aboard ship, the equipment of any ship is available, and there are always officers and men ready and willing to aid those who try to help themselves.
I agree with the author that some carefully selected chief petty officers, with their years of experience in the Navy, and upon the completion of qualifying courses or examinations, would make better wartime officers than some reserve officers. In making the selection of these chief petty officers, I would suggest that commanding officers be required confidentially to make such recommendations once a year of those under their command. These recommendations might be limited, for instance, for engineering duty only, deck duty only, communications only. From these reports chief petty officers, upon retirement or upon declaration of war, might be selected to qualify for reserve commissions; some such minimum, as five, affirmative recommendations might be established before a record would be considered. The presentation of reserve commissions prior to retirement in time of peace might be a source of discontent.
In discussing this article the inference should not be made that the author suggests replacing junior officers with chic’ petty officers or that the latter have fully the qualifications of officers. It is a fact, however, that our enlisted men are daily becoming of higher quality. Chief Yeoman Lannour suggests merely that some of these men be given the opportunity to qualify for reserve commissions. That many of these men have the character and the ability to qualify is attested by war records. During the last war I believe that I am correct when I say for instance, that many of our largest merchantmen, then naval transports, had for their chief engineers ex-warrant and ex-chief petty officers of the Navy. It should also be remembered that a considerable number of ex-chief petty officers hold responsible billets in the Merchant Marine, the most famous being Captain Hartley, ex-chief quartermaster formerly in command of the Leviathan.
Known Sunk—German Submarine War Losses, 1914-1918
(see Page 66 January, 1938, Proceedings)
(see Page 409 March, 1938, Proceedings)
(see Page 711 August, 1930, Proceedings)
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER RADFORD MOSES, U. S. NAVAL RESERVE.-The comment of Mr. Livingston and the tabulatin of losses set forth in Mr. Grant's article are of interest and worthy of further study. Neither of these gentlemen has omitted the counteroffensive use of submarines, but I believe few realize the effectiveness. Of the anti-submarine patrol by submarines.
If you will refer to the August 1930 Naval Institute PROCEEDINGS, page 711, you will find some interesting high lights of contacts which developed into action on the part of our Berehaven Force of seven “L” boats. Installation of telescopic periscopes had to be completed in these vessels at Queenstown after their arrival in Irish waters before they were permitted to take up the submerged patrol lines assigned to them. These patrol courses were an 8-day cruise back and forth, submerged at 100 feet in daylight and under way while charging batteries at night. The courses lay, for the most part, off the south of Ireland, diverging to the eastward, extending in some cases to the coast of Wales, and thus blocking the southern entrance to the Irish Sea as well as covering the landfall of transatlantic traffic south of Land’s End.
From the time of taking station in the early spring of 1918 until midsummer, contacts were made with German submarines and positions reported. Of course many were sighted or heard at such distances and on such bearings that submerged speed was incapable of bringing them to torpedo range. The important fact is that at first in the earlier patrols frequent contacts were made but as the weeks went on they became less frequent. Fritz realized that his positions were known and his movements reported even with more consistency than before. Convoys did not pass where he expected them and often an unaccounted-for hornets’ nest of destroyers appeared from nowhere. But worst of all he was forced to shift position only in darkness instead of at will if he would retain the element of surprise in an area. I would not say that this information worried him as to his own safety, but he was unable to cover the area of destruction in which he had rambled on his last cruise; time to reach objectives and also the time coming and going home was increased. There, too, the shoe was on the other foot —he was now looking for periscopes, and this was hard with the long summer daylight until nine and ten in the evening. On the surface at sea detection was normally feared only from another submarine.
In clear weather our own “L” boats had the frequent experience of having their noon full-power surface run of 15 minutes interrupted by a destroyer’s masts or smoke on the horizon. A crash dive— level off at 100—half switch—and the destroyer propellers would get louder and louder, then fade in the distance. Detection was very unusual. But with submarine against submarine it was fifty-fifty, and therefore full speed irregular zigzag or submerge and listen.
In analyzing the percentages summarized by Mr. Livingston in his discussion, I have eliminated for comparison (perhaps without proper justification) all sinkings prior to use of the depth charge. I have also dropped out German losses by their own mines and added explosive sweeps and bombs as given in the original tabulation.
The revised table would appear about as follows:
Mined................................... 25 per cent
Sunk by depth charges....... 20 per cent
Sunk by gunfire.................... 15 per cent
Rammed................................ 8 per cent
Bombed................................. 5 per cent
Sunk by explosive sweeps.. 4 per cent
Torpedoed (by submarines)... 11 per cent
Uncertain............................. 12 per cent
The changes and developments in the types of carriers for these weapons since the World War will have a definite relation to the means of offensive defense against submarines which would be adopted under situations of today. The same is true of the weapons themselves. But the combination of the weapons and the carriers, their employment separately or in relation to one another, will be dependent upon locations, weather, availability of support, and even intangible factors like the naval experience of the German submarine commanders when they first found it necessary to look for periscopes.
As pointed out in the discussion, the high percentage for the mine is due to geographical conditions and will always vary with the location of activities. Patrol planes as carriers might be very successful off Cuba but in the North Atlantic they might be of value only for initial detection. A gun is probably essential to surface craft although its actual use is doubtful in employment and has for the most part, as the table in Mr. Grant’s article indicates, been used from decoy vessels, or in cases of surprise or of partial previous destruction.
The submarine in normal condition should not risk a gun action even if able to substantially outrange. (They have, however, and generally paid the price.)
We probably all agree that the depth charge, being adaptable to any type or size of carrier (even a submarine) and to most operating areas, has by far the most universal application as an anti-submarine weapon.
Thinking of Mr. Livingston’s comment on the building of “type” anti-submarine craft, our efforts during the World War in the production of the subchaser class and the Eagle boats are worth some passing comment. Captain Raguet in the December, 1936, Naval Institute Proceedings, page 1703, gives a good account of coordinated subchaser action.
Now let us go back to the many times our own submarines avoided detection because they first sighted the destroyer. The same would have been true of an Eagle boat (as they were almost as high as a destroyer), but not so true of a subchaser- On the other hand the subchasers, fine sea boats that they were, could not be expected to run extensively an offshore patrol. Between these two types there surely is a combination; low freeboard, good sheer, perhaps the old whaleback bow, no bridge (except a submarine type lookout and control station), watertight conning tower, low spray-shielded stacks, no masts, noiseless and able to keep the sea, standardized construction and comparatively cheap.
Let me emphasize the word “cheap” and with it the ability to build many quickly- Without this emphasis it would appear that the submarine itself would be the best carrier for detecting, locating, and delivering a high seas anti-submarine offensive. It lacks maximum surface maneuverability. Otherwise it seems to have all of the requisite characteristics plus the torpedo and total invisibility at will. The latter is accompanied by the ability to force the other. fellow down during daylight, cramping his style to virtual ineffectiveness. But we can't pay the price for the general use of submarines for such duty. Nor are we justified in maintaining any number of anti-submarine surface craft in peace time. beyond development of the type material and doctrine, other matters are ' relatively' more important.
Mr. Livingston's point is well taken that such designs should be prepared, tested, and ready. The gas engines, occasional fires, and leaky decks of the 110-foot subchasers and the rolling and machinery troubles of the Eagle boats should have taught us an indelible lesson.
We must not expect our destroyer to be a jack-of-all-trades, particularly the highly specialized art of anti-submarine patrol in critical submarine areas.
“Splice the Main Brace”
(See page 1588, November, 1937, Proceedings)
Rear Admiral Ammen Farenholt (M.C.) U. S. Navy (Retired).—Recently there have appeared in the Naval Institute PROCEEDINGS certain accounts of the former custom of the regulation issue of spirits aboard vessels of our Navy and its present status in the British service. The following notes on this subject were made by my father, the late Rear Admiral O.W. Farenholt, U.S. Navy, and are submitted in the hope that they may be of historical interest.
On September 1, 1862, the liquor ration ('grog' as it was called) was abolished by a residential order. It was said that Mr. Lincoln remarked at the time that he wished he could give the same drastic order for the Army. That service had no special liquor ration for the rank and file but the Quartermaster's Department during the Civil War carried whiskey as an article in store. The order was a good one not given more on account of the men than the officers. In those good old days any officer could order the purser’s steward, yeoman, to send a gallon of whiskey to his room and charge it. The loss of several ships was traced to drunkenness and to the easy way officers at any time could obtain liquor.
“Like tobacco at this date, whiskey was contracted for each fiscal year. It was carefully inspected and delivered in barrels holding twenty gallons. It was a straight rye, generally came from distilleries at Pittsburgh, and was called ‘Monongahela.’ It certainly was a good pure liquor in 1862 and then cost $1.10 per gallon.
“The spirit rooms on board of our ships were tin lined and built as low down and as far aft as possible, near the powder magazines so as to be under the eyes of the officers, and when there were marines on board a sentry was placed over it.
“At 11:00 a.m. and at 4:00 p.m. an officer, either a midshipman or a warrant officer, the master-at-arms, and the purser’s steward would open the spirit room and fill the tubs. These tubs were similar to the old wooden division tubs and a padlock secured the top. They were carried, filled, to the quarter-deck, or to the gun deck on covered ships, and a line was stretched before them. At 11:30 a.m. and 4:30 p.m., before dinner and supper, the drummer would sound the call and on ships that had no drummer the boatswain’s mate would pipe ‘all hands to grog ahoy.’ The steward would call the men’s names, alphabetically, and three men would enter the space behind the line and receive from the master-at-arms one-half jill of raw liquor, served in tin cups. The drink had to be downed then and there and it was not permitted to carry it away. Men who did not care to drink were credited with five cents a day. They could stop their tot for a month and renew it at its expiration. Punishment, except court-martial, could not take away the liquor ration. If a man was seriously ill the liquor was credited to the medical department. Whiskey not used was returned to the spirit room in the same manner as when taken out.
“The expression ‘doubling the tub’ was used to describe the trick of repeating by answering for an absentee. In my eighteen months’ acquaintance with the liquor ration in the Navy, I saw it done only twice; on large ships there were too many checks, but I dare say on smaller vessels with less police supervision, and by standing in with the master-at-arms it was frequently done.
“The small amount of good pure liquor issued to the men just before a hearty meal did them no harm. It kept the older men, who were probably accustomed to stimulants all their lives, more contented and it was the custom in all naval services, and is yet in many, since ships have been built. I am sure that a pint of beer to be drunk with meals would have pleased many, possibly the majority, and would have been more beneficial to all hands. More than one-half of the 480 men on the Wabash in which I served in 1861 and ’62 had their spirit rations commuted and this was about the average in all of our ships at that time.”
The passing of the grog ration inspired many pens; the following, composed by Brigadier General McAlpine, U. S. Volunteers (at the time stationed at Morris Island, S. C., and author of much war poetry under the name of “Miles O’Riley”), is one of the best.
30 August 1862:
Oh, shipmates pass the bottle ’round,
Our time is short, remember;
For the grog must stop and our spirits drop
On the first day of September.
Farewell, old rye, these are sad, sad words,
But alas! they must be spoken;
For the ruby cup must be given up
And the demijohn be broken.
But memory oft will backward roll,
And dwell with fondness partial,
On the days when gin was not a sin
Nor cocktails brought court-martial.
Jack’s happy days are gone, alas!
To return again, oh never:
For they’ve raised his pay five cents a day,
But stopped his grog forever.
All hands to “splice the main-brace” call,
But we splice it now in sorrow,
For the spirit room key must be laid away
Forever on to-morrow.
Sea Language and Its Origins
(See page 9, January, 1938, Proceedings)
Dr. Ing. Wladimir V. Mendl, A.M- I.N.A.—Lieutenant Commander Elliott Ranney (S.C.), U. S. Naval Reserve, is quite right in stating that “the origin of words is always an interesting study” and that “One of the charms of sea life is the habit of seagoing folk to cling to old customs and expressions long after they have ceased to have meaning to any but the best informed.” To this the present writer wants to add another habit of seagoing folk, that of using the same word for widely different things: another reason why sea language is understood as a rule only by those initiated and is but too often misused by landlubbers.
One of the best examples in this connection is the word ton. It would take an article by itself to provide nothing more than a quite general look at this subject and one would have to write a book to go thoroughly through the problem. Suffice to state that if one speaks of the “1,500 tonners” in the U. S. Navy, vessels of 1,500 tons displacement is meant, whereas if a shipowner refers to his “1,500-ton ship” he means a freighter having a net measurement of 1,500 register tons.
There is a big difference between the two meanings of the word ton and most people not thoroughly cognizant are unable to discriminate between them.
In the first case, that of displacement, the term ton is used to designate a weight, e.g., the equivalent of 2,240 lb. of water. The register ton on the other hand is a measure of capacity and equal to 100 cu. ft. another fact, which is responsible for the origin of some of the words used at sea, is the different, well-nigh defective Pronunciation affected by seafaring people. There is no need to insist upon the “forecastle" pronounced simply "foc'sle" and the "cross jack " becoming in the the mouth of a seaman a mere "crojek."
However, it may be remembered that the “leech" has been originally a "lee edge,” "the " orlop" used to be "over lop " the "futtocks are nothing else than "foot hooks," a "can buoy" is simply a “cone bouy" and the "bowsprit" is the ancient "bolt-spirit" . Finally "to wear” is derived from the word "weather."
So far we have been concerned only with the pronunciation of English. The metamorphosis of words becomes perhaps more inexplicable when we refer to a foreign language, to the sound of which the ear of our own citizens may be unaccustomed. In this connection we may mention the verb “to jettison,” derived from the French jettez-en (i.e., throw away of it). The cry "all hands ahoy" in which the last word comes from the French en haut (i.e. aloft), the "rabbet" having its origin in the French raboter (i.e., to plane) and the ending ness-Sheerness for instance-being formerly the French nez (nose), that is to say a projecting point of land.
Perhaps less obvious is the derivation of “scantlings” from the French echantillons A term used in this latter language up to now and having the same meaning. "Ensign” is rather a misspelling of the French enseigne, which however in French is not a general term and is the word used as a rule for a flag.
”Aloft” comes from the Danish loft whereas “bark” and “barkentine” are derived from the barca (boat). The “bight”—of a rope—has its origin in the Old Saxon bygan (to bend), “barnacles” are believed to descend from the Latin pernacula (little ham) from their resemblance to a suspended and inverted leg of pork, and “keel” is drawn from the ancient Saxon cad. The “thwart” is a bench “a’thwart” (across) a boat, and the “transom” is akin to the prefix trans (across).
The “killick,” a popular name for the anchor, was formerly the kellagh, a wooden anchor of ancient times, weighted with stones.
Besides the habits already referred to, there is another one, which has accounted for the coming into existence of many an expression: the habit of seafarers to be plastic in their speech. Thus for instance a “kettle bottomed vessel” is one with a flat bottom, a “wall sided ship” has vertical sides (instead of those with the once usual tumble home), and “to show a leg” is merely an expression for the belief that a man in a hammock showing a leg is most certainly about to rise.
To conclude, the present writer wants to mention the statement of Lieutenant Commander Ranney that “tar [in Jack Tar] refers to tarred pants which sailors formerly wore.” As far as he knows this is not so, but a reference to the tarred hats. Perhaps the confusion comes from the German nickname for sailors “Teerjacke” (tarred jacket). But it ought to be said that this expression is nothing else than a misadaptation to the German language of the same “Jack Tar.”