The Twentieth Century 185 



and naked cannibals, and the coral reefs were an ever-present peril. To the 

 Line was naturally transferred the old association of ideas that linked cere- 

 monies of propitiation with the entrance upon enterprises of difficulty and 

 perils that were novel and abounding. 



In these days of rapid steam transit and the nervous hurry of modern civil- 

 ization, the money-making fever, and the consequent contempt for everything 

 which has no direct bearing upon a practical result, the ceremony of "Crossing 

 the Line" is becoming obsolescent. In crowded liners it is made a show for the 

 amusement of bored passengers who are allowed to escape the personal sacri- 

 fice to the Sea-God, or to commute it into a gift for the benefit of the crew. In 

 the usually undermanned tramp, with a crew too often only British in name, 

 there is neither the time nor the inclination for an elaborate ceremony; it is 

 either omitted altogether or sadly curtailed, to save the expenditure of time, 

 money and labour. 



But in a British ship of war the ceremony is always observed with that 

 thoroughness which characterises the work of the Royal Navy, and is equally 

 noticeable in its play. The British "matloe" dearly loves a bit of "play-acting" 

 and is an adept at impersonation. There are always in a ship of war twice as 

 many men as would suffice for the needs of the mercantile marine; and, though 

 they are always occupied, their work is in general neither exhausting nor dif- 

 ficult. They are all men in a condition of trained physical fitness — no old men 

 among them, nor any not in the pink of health. Weaklings soon leave the 

 Navy, and sick men are sent ashore to hospital at the State expense. One 

 occasionally hears it said — and there is a modicum of half-truth in the 

 statement — that a dozen longshore workmen would do what it takes a score 

 of matloes to accomplish, and do it in quicker time. But the workman ashore 

 only works a part of his twenty-four hours' day, and cannot be required to 

 raise a finger when his speU of work is over. Sailormen have to fight the ele- 

 ments, which take no account of man's convenience. And sailormen of the 

 Royal Navy have to be "ready, aye ready" to fight a possible human foe as 

 well. They are necessarily, therefore, both more numerous — to make good 

 the inevitable wastage when a ship of war is performing her natural functions 

 — and in finer physical condition ( for they must at all times have an im- 

 mense reserve of strength for the moment of supreme need) than sailormen 

 of the mercantile marine. 



(Victor E. Marsden. Crossing the Line with His Royal Highness, The 

 Prince of Wales in H.M.S. "Renown," Friday-Saturday, April 16-17, 1920. 

 Sydney, 1920. p. 5-7.) 



Reprinted with permission of Angus & Robertson, publishers. 



1922 



On crossing the equator, we could not have the usual ceremony of Father 

 Neptune and his mermaids, owing to the number of Peruvians, Chileans, and 



