OckhamsRazor

Join Date 09/2003

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Your Tax Dollars at Work

Turning Pollywogs into Shellbacks

Naval tradition. The two words are often synonymous in the US Navy. Particularly for a musician, hereafter referred to as “MU.” Much of what MUs do is so wrapped up in ceremony that, for us, the line between tradition and the Navy is a very thin, very fuzzy one. One look at non-MU sailors at work (which you’ll never see on the 7 o’clock news) is different from one look at an MU (which you just might see on the news). Coveralls are well named if you’re referring to paint and other unknown dried liquids when describing the former, for often, they are definitely all covered in them. Such is the result of the daily grind aboard a ship. It’s most often very dirty work. But for the latter, coveralls are mostly grime free – always ready to take that poster-child-for-the-Navy photograph that reassures the public that our sailors are not just professionals in action, but they look professional, too. Yeah right.

Most ceremonies we play at are pretty boring for us because we do so many. But we are actors as much as musicians, and no one can tell it. And it is only on the rarest of occasions that MUs actually get to be a part of a ceremony instead of working at them. And that is the subject of this blog – the story of 12 MUs who participated in one of the rarer ceremonies Naval tradition has to offer – and one where ALL of our coveralls took on the former definition described above.

Shellback. Pollywog. These are the two opposing factions that are involved in The Shellback Ceremony; a very special ceremony that is only held when a US Navy vessel crosses from one side of the equator to the other. To understand those two factions, I’ll give you the background story.

As legend has it, Davy Jones, noted pirate, first “crossed the line” in his famous ship, The Flying Dutchman, and became subject to the rule of the Neptunus Rex, Lord of the Seas. Neptune, whose people were known as the Shellbacks, patrolled the equatorial regions of the world, allowing no unworthy sailor to cross the line. Davy Jones and his crew were stopped, and then made to pay for their passage; a payment which would be made by passing through a set of trials. The trials were arduous and detestable as was befitting “nasty slimy pollywogs” that dared enter the realm of the Shellbacks, but Jones and his crew were stout of heart and afraid of nothing, and very soon became the first human Shellbacks to sail the seven seas.

After passing the trials and becoming the official sons of Neptune, Jones entered into a contract with the King of the Sea in which he and his men would patrol the equator and stop every ship that attempted to cross in order to test their worthiness.

So guess what I’ve been doing?

No longer a slimy pollywog, I have graduated to the ranks of not just Shellbacks, but Emerald Shellbacks; a very special crossing in which we crossed what I jokingly refer to as “Middle Earth”; that point on the blue marble where the equator intersects the Prime Meridian; coordinates 0, 0.

Here are some pictures with captions for your entertainment. Your tax dollars at work, folks.

After being awakened at 4am in the traditional Navy way – aluminum garbage can cast across the deck of our berthing for obnoxious sound effect along with the screaming of “Get out of your racks you filthy WOGS!” – us filthy wogs got dressed by donning coveralls inside out covered by t-shirts with special inscriptions provided for us by our shellback taskmasters. On the shirts of all thee MU wogs, among other things, were the words “Special Case.” I think I knew what that was going to mean. We were marked.

We were then led up above decks. Our method of travel was the “wog walk” in which we had to place our right hand between the legs of the person in front of us to grasp their left hand which was passed back. Hunched down, and in this chain, we proceeded to an area where we were all assembled, some 300 of us, for a salt water wash down.

And here’s a picture of mostly band people, including yours truly, all soaked to the bone. Now we’re *really* salty sailors. That’s me on the right with the red ink surrounding the word “wog” on my shirt – well, it’s actually pink now – the red marker wasn’t water proof and it ran a bit.

My special t-shirt was interactive. A keyboard drawn on top on the back with the words “Play me and I sing.” No one played me, but with all the chaos, I doubt anyone even noticed what the shirt said.

The Shellbacks were good to us, and knew we needed breakfast, so we were then wog walked down to the mess decks and then made to crawl on our pollywog bellies for a hearty breakfast of…I’m not sure what it was. Most of us suddenly had no appetite. For some reason.

Here’s a Shellback pirate whose costume I thought was pretty good.

And here are a few of the tribulations we passed through to “prove our worth”:

This is a shallow pan of grossness. Down in there are 4 whistles. Our task? Retrieve and blow a whistle. With our mouths. No hands allowed.

Here’s me and the bass player Charlie waiting for whatever “fun” was next.

Yes, pushups were often involved – along with other callisthenic type activities.

Sometimes the pushups were quite elaborate…

You slimy wogs! You’re sinking that boat! Get that slime out!!!

The Royal Shellback Baby has a nasty habit of putting cherries in his fat greasy navel. The Pollywogs are very useful when it comes to removing them with their mouths – which we all did. Fortunately, we did not have to eat that cherry. Ick.

Several pushup scenes later, we’re nearing the end where we have been subpoenaed to appear before King Neptune who is being played by this guy:

But it would be wrong to approach the King without first removing the last remnants of our pollywog slime before becoming trusty Shellbacks. So we get baptized.

One of the ongoing dangers of passing through this bunch of trials is getting sent back. Shellbacks can pull you out of the line at any time and send you back to do some or all of it all over again. Check out what this Einstein wrote on the back of his shirt. I wonder if he got sent back…The Honorable Davy Jones loves to train…his shirt says so!

I fared pretty damn well, myself. Got sent back on one event and had to perform a few shenanigans tailored strictly for us MU types, but in the end, it was a lot of fun.

And for what? So the whole Navy would know we have seen this object up close. I never had any idea that the point on our planet known as 0 latitude 0 longitude was actually marked by a buoy anchored down by 2 miles of chain, but it is!

I hope you’ve enjoyed this voyage through one of the Navy’s more entertaining traditions and ceremonies. For Shellbacks everywhere, thanks for reading!

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ps- the Royal Shellback Baby with the cherries in his navel is just too bizarre for words...lmao, ya'll get just a little bored out there?

Actually, that's one of the more popular trials. Usually they grease down the baby's belly with lard, and then a guy comes up behind you while you're getting the cherry and pushes your face down into his own personal lard and rubs it around. I escaped that fate...whew.

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The English Royal Navy does something very similar I know, though I'm not at all certain that it has the same divisions and particular types of trials.

Other than that, I suggest you never refer to an English RNS (Royal Navy Serviceman) as a Wog - especially if he's black. 'Wog' is the English equivalent of 'Nigger'.

All terribly manly, serious stuff, annd congratulations on becoming someone who has plucked a cherry from the navel of another man - and another man covered in lard, at that. I'm not entirely sure I envy you that experience. But certainly it's a very fine thing to be an Emerald Shellback.

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You have changed a dim and boring Saturday morning into a laughing, smiling one with this, Ock. I read through the entire thing with a big grin on my face! I think it would be very, very cool (sorry, words fail me right now. I haven't had enough caffeine to be eloquent) to be a Shellback. Out of the entire global population, how many people can say that they're a Shellback? Not very many; it's a pretty exclusive club that you're got yourself membership to.

Thank you for brightening up my day with your Shellback antics!

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Funny - we have a Royal Navy officer aboard. He must have been sNiggering quite a bit about the whole thing. But quite so - I believe the tradition started with the Royal Navy - as most naval traditions did.

All terribly manly, serious stuff, annd congratulations on becoming someone who has plucked a cherry from the navel of another man - and another man covered in lard, at that

Oh to be sure *snicker*. Actually the "manly serious stuff," which I call "testosterone-fest," occurred the night before; the night that signals the end of what they call "Wog Day." In most cases, Shellbacks outnumber wogs. Not so this time, so it was about 300 to 100 in a battle for the possession of fire hoses until about 1am. At that point the Command Master Chief of the ship threw a shoe and put a halt to the whole thing. I stayed in my rack, read a book, and fell asleep early. Shenanigans of that nature aren't my thing.

Thank you for brightening up my day with your Shellback antics!

I'm glad it brought a smile Dharma, and thanks for the sweet reply! Smile returned.

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Hey ock, I'll email you if you email me. Miss Whip acted like you need some entertaining email while you are stuck on your boat. You can email me at hubbamyathotmaildotcom

Great article, btw. My hubbys is in the Navy but he's never been on a boat. He works on the planes that are too big to land on a carrier.

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Ock, welcome to the club! It's all in good fun but I do recall a couple of guys who refused to participate. Their lives were less than pleasant for a while after that for refusing to honor a time old tradition.

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I'm that guy... that guy that everyone says, "Don't be that guy." That's probably me.

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