212 Crossing the Line 



1946, continued 



If the sliip is on a special cruise or particularly interesting foreign commis- 

 sion, a scroU showing the places visited adds to the ornamentation of the 

 Certificate. 



1950/1951 



When we left Aruba in the West Indies, our last civihzed port of call, and 

 began our long jom:ney south, a deep depression settled over the seven hun- 

 dred men aboard our ship. In Edinburgh, in Norway, and as we were bunk- 

 ering at Aruba, they had been gay, reckless, and jovial in manner and con- 

 versation. But after we turned southward, despite various attempts at organ- 

 ized fun on the ship in the way of parties, concerts, high jinks at the equator, 

 and the hke, we all tended to become solitary and avoid the society of the 

 friends we had made. 



( R. B. Robertson. Of whales and men. New York, p. 52-53. ) 



The tale of the senior medical oflBcer on a pelagic whaung expedition to the Southern Ocean 

 in the 1950/1951 whaling season. Mr. Robertson is a Scot, new to this way of Hfe. His story is 

 full of interest as showing the difference between the old sailing ships and the modem mechanized 

 floating factory. It stands out in connection with the present offering as showing how "the high 

 jinks at the equator" played a slight riffle in the Ustless current of daily hfe on the way to the 

 field. Just how "the high jinks" were staged is not told here. Left for "another story?" 



Reprinted with permission of Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., publisher. 



1951 



After Pearl Harbor, in 1941, millions more Americans went traveUing than 

 ever before, and hundreds of them went across the Equator or the Pacific 

 International Date Line. AH our servicemen who went to the islands and 

 atolls beyond the "Line" had their bit of fun on board ship, and were admitted 

 to the Order of the Golden Dragon. 



The Golden Dragon is to the Eastern waters what Father Neptune is to 

 the Western. Now, old King Neptime's the figure about whom all fuss is 

 made when travellers come into his region for the first time; he's the reason 

 that the victims must be lathered, and shaved and dunked in salt water — 

 following the "custom" of those who had been there before. 



Those who don't know that a PoUywog's never crossed the Equator had 

 better not admit it; those who don't know what goes on at the International 

 Date Line (or 180th Meridian), had better keep quiet, too. But here's a 

 slight hint: Watch for the fatal gleam-in-the-eye. It's the sign of someone 

 who knows all about it — and you're in for trouble. 



This is the story of the tradition of Neptune — and the "how" and "why" 

 of it all. May it not discourage prospective Shellbacks from leaving home, 

 and may it find favor with the real "sheU-headed ones" and with the gods of 

 the Eastern and Western waters. 



(Henley E. Combs. Shellbacks: Sons of Neptune. Illustrations by Dave 

 Lyons. New York: Pageant Press, 1951.) 



