Max Ebb — Happy Endings
Every boat needs a playlist. Good music sets a positive mood, and a long set of favorites can help those long hours of the night watch go by quickly (even though any given watch between midnight and sunrise should never be longer than two hours). Why did they pick me to assemble the playlist? I’m far out of touch with popular culture, and my taste in nautical-themed songs is obscure. But it wasn’t that hard, once I got into it. Instrumental Hawaiian tracks are great for background. Surf guitar for the squalls. Show tunes and novelty songs to pass the time when things are stable enough for the crew on deck to have their earbuds in. But I was having trouble with the sea chantey genre. They all seem to end badly, usually describing some sailor who is robbed blind by a romantic connection on their first night ashore right after being paid off, requiring them to sign up again for a dangerous trip around Cape Horn. Not to mention that the encounter might have “set fire to my mainmast.” Or the song describes a shipwreck with catastrophic loss of life, or a brutal captain with an equally brutal dog.
Artificial Intelligence was not much help. It listed some good inspirational songs and some daring rescues, but the context was always downbeat. So I did what I always do when I have a problem preparing for an ocean race: I emailed Lee Helm for assistance, knowing that she would be up late.
“It’s a problem with nautical culture,” she agreed in her email response. “Professional sailors have had, like, a bad deal over the centuries, and the music reflects that. There are exceptions.”
“Spill!” I demanded.
“Here’s one of my faves,” she typed. “It makes the case for an alternative family structure, although you have to project a little into the future of the protagonist beyond the song’s ending. It’s ‘Morning Glory’, by the Corsairs. Here are excerpts from the lyrics:”
At the end of the day, I like a little
drink,
To raise up me voice and sing.
And an hour or two with a fine brown
brew,
And I’m ready for anything.
At the Crosskeys Inn there were
sisters four,
The landlord’s daughters fair.
And every night, when he put
out the light,
I would tiptoe up the stairs.…
[The sailor is gone for two years of
service in the Napoleonic naval wars.]