warshipguy wrote: |
Please take this as a "tongue-in-cheek" comment . . . what's a "tall ship"? Bill Morrison |
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Bill has brought up one of my pet bugaboos.
So far as I know, the expression "tall ship" originated with John Masefield in his great poem "Sea Fever": "I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky/And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by." Masefield was a great writer and an expert on nautical terminology; his use of the expression is, to my ear, masterful in the somewhat romanticized context of the poem. (Incidentally, not all of his nautical poetry is romanticized like this one. Some of it, in fact, is pretty brutal in its realism.)
I think the modern popularity of the phrase dates from shortly before 1976, when a big "fleet" of sail training ships sailed from the West Indies to Newport, Rhode Island in conjunction with the U.S. Bicentennial celebration. (I'm sure Bill remembers the occasion.) I was nursing a sunburned forehead on a hill overlooking the harbor approaches when the first ships came out of the morning fog; I'll never forget the sight. Similarly, I'll never forget the crush of tourist traffic that almost paralyzed that part of the country, and practically exhausted my temper, over the next several days. (I thought about going to New York to see the "Parade of the Tall Ships" on the Fourth of July, but I gave up.)
Ever since then, advertisers and promoters have been using the term to refer to...well, I suspect they have no idea what. Masefield would be appalled.
I can remember hearing little kids on the pier at Newport that day in 1976 asking, "Daddy, is that a tall ship?" and the fathers inventing profound answers, as though the term actually meant something. In fact it doesn't mean anything. It won't be found in any serious nautical dictionary, or in the writings of any serious maritime historian or commentator; I really wish it would vanish from the English-language vocabulary.
On the other hand, it's become so common in journalistic and advertising circles that I can't be seriously critical of anybody who uses it. I guess we might as well get used to it - but I don't have to like it.
My other big pet peeve phrase: "museum quality model." That one is, in the first place, something of an oxymoron: museums acquire models for all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with "quality" as a model builder would define it. (The famous Isaac Hull model of the U.S.S. Constitution is, by modern modelers' standards, of mediocre quality at best. But it's one of the most important and valuable ship models in the world - and unquestionably belongs in a museum.) In the second place, plenty of less-than-high-quality models have made their way into museums. Sometimes that's because people donated them and the museum couldn't say no; on other occasions, unfortunately, the people in charge of the museums just can't distinguish between a good model and a mediocre one. (I'm afraid serious ship modelers would be shocked by how few maritime museum employees actually know much about ships or ship models.)
Too long as usual. Down with museum-quality models of tall ships! (And I do hope everybody reading this can recognize a tongue that's firmly planted in a cheek.)