Dead sailors may be watching from above, bananas are still unwelcome aboard, and whistling could summon the wind. This Halloween, The Log investigates the maritime superstitions that refuse to go down with the ship.
By Capt. Katherine “Davy Jones” Clements
There’s a seagull standing on the dock staring at you.
Do. Not. Panic.
Chances are, he just wants some of your egg-salad sandwich.
Then again — according to an old piece of maritime folklore — that bird could be the reincarnation of a dead sailor scrutinizing all that you’ve done with his boat.
Regardless, giving him a respectful nod (and maybe a couple Cheetos) probably wouldn’t hurt.
For as long as people have gone to sea, they’ve also found reasons to believe the sea is paying attention. Sailors developed elaborate superstitions about what could bring good luck, what could summon bad weather, and what absolutely did not belong aboard a vessel.
Centuries later, Southern California boating looks considerably different. We have GPS, radar, sonar, satellite weather, sophisticated engines, and enough marine electronics to theoretically remove much of the mystery from being on the water.
And yet, try stepping aboard a Southern California sportboat with a banana.
Suddenly, everyone’s a believer in curses, jinxes, and sea witchery.
In honor of Halloween, The Log decided to investigate some of the maritime world’s strangest superstitions and consider an important question:
What if they’re right?
The Seagull Knows What You Did
One maritime folk belief holds that sailors who die can return as seabirds.
A version preserved by the USC Digital Folklore Archives describes a belief passed through a Navy family that deceased sailors return as seagulls and watch over those still living. Similar traditions exist elsewhere involving other seabirds.
This changes things.
That seagull screaming at you from the piling may not be rude.
He may be disappointed.
Maybe he spent 40 years at sea — became a casualty of Neptune’s or Poseidon’s wrath — was reincarnated — and now, he’s eyeing you because you still haven’t replaced that rotting dock line!
Perhaps this explains why gulls spend so much time around marinas. They aren’t looking for French fries. They’re conducting vessel inspections.
And based on the volume of screaming, some of you are not passing.
Don’t Whistle
Historically, whistling aboard a vessel has also carried some baggage.
One old superstition holds that whistling can challenge or summon the wind, potentially bringing stronger weather.
Naturally, this creates an interesting dilemma for the modern Southern California boater.
The wind has been nonexistent all morning.
The sailboat is barely moving.
Do you whistle?
Maybe once?
Absolutely not.
You have radar, weather forecasts, and decades of meteorological research available to you.
But there’s also a 700-year-old sailor somewhere in your subconscious warning, “Don’t you dare.”
Probably best not to risk it.
Leave the Albatross Alone
Seabirds feature prominently throughout maritime superstition, but perhaps none has achieved greater literary notoriety than the albatross.
The association was immortalized in Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, in which killing an albatross brings terrible consequences upon a ship and its crew. The bird subsequently becomes a symbol of guilt and misfortune.
Fortunately, this is among the easier maritime superstitions to follow.
If you encounter an albatross offshore, simply don’t kill it.
Frankly, this should not require folklore.
Absolutely No Bananas
Among fishermen, few superstitions have survived quite as successfully as the belief that bananas aboard a boat bring bad luck.
The superstition remains part of fishing folklore today, although explanations for its origin vary considerably.
The notion that bananas prevent yellowtail from biting has yet to be verified by scientific proof. Still, this lack of empirical evidence has yet to free the banana’s reputation as an albatross of fishing misfortune.
Show up at the dock with six rods, three tackle bags, and no sunscreen — and someone will probably help you aboard.
Show up holding a banana — and suddenly you’ve jeopardized everyone’s livelihood.
The fruit must go.
There is no appeals process.
If fishing is slow afterward, everyone will know what happened.
“Who snuck on the freaking banana bread?!”
Then There Is Davy Jones
Not every maritime legend involves questionable fruit.
For centuries, sailors have referred to the bottom of the sea as Davy Jones’ Locker, essentially the final resting place of drowned sailors, shipwrecks, and things lost to the ocean. The expression is documented back to the 18th century, although exactly who or what Davy Jones originally represented remains uncertain.
For Southern California fishermen, however, Davy Jones’ Locker contains something even more valuable.
Approximately $14 million worth of jigs.
This estimate is unofficial.
Drop enough tackle around Catalina, the Coronados, the Channel Islands, and Southern California’s offshore banks, and eventually something isn’t coming back.
Somewhere beneath us is an underwater Bass Pro Shops assembled entirely from fishermen saying:
“I think I’m snagged.”
Davy Jones has enough Colt Snipers to open his own tackle store.
The Fish That Was Definitely Huge
Then there’s a supernatural phenomenon for which no historical documentation is necessary.
The fish nobody saw.
Every fisherman has encountered one.
It pulls harder than anything else that day. The rod is doubled over. Line disappears from the reel.
Then: Nothing.
The hook pulls.
The line breaks.
The knot fails.
Whatever happened, the creature is gone.
Because nobody actually saw the fish, its estimated weight immediately begins increasing.
“I don’t know. That thing was big.”
Twenty minutes later: “Probably 30 pounds.”
At the dock: “Had to be 40.”
By Thanksgiving, it was a cow tuna.
By Christmas, it nearly sank the boat.
This may be the most powerful supernatural force in all of fishing.
Maybe Don’t Ask Questions
Modern boating has replaced many of the unknowns faced by early mariners.
We can predict weather, map the ocean floor, communicate from offshore, and determine our location with satellites orbiting thousands of miles above Earth.
But the ocean has never completely surrendered its mysteries.
Things still disappear overboard.
Weather still changes.
Fish still vanish.
Boats still make strange noises at 2:00 a.m.
And sometimes a seagull really does sit on the dock and stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time.
Most likely, he just wants your Cheetos.
But this Halloween, go ahead and give the bird a little respect anyway.
After all, he could be an old salt with a grievance about your boat’s upkeep.
