Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones

This week’s column about “Ocean People” celebrates all the nameless people who stand watch at sea.

From the New York Times story about the recent Navy collisions at sea:

“Admiral John Richardson, the US Navy Commander, has ordered all ship around the world to stop and retrain, relearn and focus on proper procedures and safety precautions to prevent more collisions or mishaps.

“’All of us should ask ourselves’ he said,  ‘Are we ready if it happens to us?  All personnel should answer these questions: Are sailors standing watch with vigilance?  Are they communicating with commanders when problems arise?  Are commanders responsive or asleep at the wheel?’” (August 23, 2017)

To “watch with vigilance,” means to watch (observe carefully) with a watch (keeping an eye on the clock) for the whole watch (a time of vigil when a person looks for danger or trouble.)  Sailors at sea watch, with a watch, for a watch. 

At any moment, day or night, there are tens, maybe hundreds of thousands of cargo and military vessels at sea, and each one has at least one person, hopefully more, whose job is watching.  This screen shot from Marinetraffic.com shows how many cargo boats are out there.

In the US Navy these watchers are often “able seamen,” also called “lookouts” and “watchstanders.”

There is something romantic and reassuring about the term “able seaman.”  My impression is that the sailor watching the horizon is always completely alert, vigilant, and ready to report danger.  The problem is that most of my knowledge of sailing comes from Gilbert and Sullivan operetta’s like Pirates of Penzance and HMS Pinafore.  In reality, I imagine a watchstander’s life is boring, terrifying, regimented, lonely and totally without witty refrains or hornpipes.

But watch they do, hundreds of thousands of men and women right now, staring at the sea.

I wondered if in these techy days they only watch computer screens from deep in the hull, like pilots flying only on instrument.   But I was reassured to read “8 Important Points for Efficiently Taking over a Bridge-Navigational Watch.”  As you take over your turn to watch, there are detailed orders to walk all around the bridge, check the horizon before you, let your eyes adjust to the dark, and only then to “glance at the radar screen.”  

And these are not the only sea watchers out there.  Think of all the folks on shore watching the seas.  Lighthouse keepers (many now automated), marine researchers, harbormasters, migrating whale counters (hundreds of volunteers from Alaska to Mexico count the grey whale migration night and day, standing on cliffs, from November to April, watching them swim south to mate and give birth, then north with the babies – talk about keeping watch over their flocks by night!)

And add on to the list of watchers all those in the tourist industry of whale watching, and their millions of customers.  Whale tourism now far out-earns the former income of the commercial whaling industry.  “Whales are worth more alive than dead” brags the International Whale Watching Commission, reporting that 13 million people paid to go whale watching last year, up 20% from five years ago.

The sea demands watching, the seas are worth watching.  Ever since people first fished or traveled the seas, since we went to sea for trade or battle, as long as we have found in the sea wonder and inspiration, we have watched the waves, watched the wind, watched the horizon, watched for other ships, watched the sea. 

Stay awake!  Keep watching!

Copyright © 2017 Deborah Streeter