Sailing is often seen as an impenetrable sport; there is such a wide variety of skills a new sailor must gain functional understanding of, to even begin to understand the discipline, that it is dauting to the initiate.

Long have the RYA and other governing bodies striven to lower this hurdle to entry, great swathes of courses have been created to shunt naïve landlubbers down pathways from competent crew to oceanmaster skippers.

Certainly, one might consider this to be a laudable pursuit, increasing numbers of sailors does come with some benefits, more racing crews, more sponsorships, greater leverage on policy, increased bar profits etcetera. These might not completely balance the irritation experienced when explaining that, having your “Day Skipper’s” does not make you capable of helming a J class, but do warrant consideration.

Possibly the greatest tool of the “Gatekeepers” of any group within society are linguistics. The “long weight” and “left-handed nails” are staunch bastions of hazing, through which all construction apprentices must pass. Sailing is no different, except that the turns of phrase may be so convoluted that they are understood only by singular Clubs, fleets or even individual boats. Fittings have all sorts of nomenclature, sail designation is minefield and tactician terms are a cornucopia of expletives, in-jokes and innuendo. To an outsider this may seem obtuse in the extreme, why would sailors, racers in particular, wish to increase the difficulty with which they communicate?

Some would explain this as just an accident, crews misnaming, mis-hearing or misunderstanding terms used by others, or stubbornness to drop local terms in favour of uniformity.

I do not.

I propose that these archaic and anachronistic terms, provide an extremely helpful tool to someone capable of using them.

Firstly, they provide a great way of testing the true experience of a new crew member. A couple of quick questions filled with concatenations, acronyms and slang will quickly show you if you vaunted TP52 main trimmer is, in reality, just a sigma 36 mastman. Of course, even the greatest sailor will run into novel descriptions once in a while, their reactions will still tell you much about their temperament, however. Most likely, they will let you finish and either answer your question or calmy enquire as to the meaning of the unknown remark. Someone less confident in their own understanding or knowledge will often try to bluff or divert the question.

Secondly, they are a wonderful way of building camaraderie amongst a crew. One of my favourite examples relates to relative performance to other boats, which transitioned to great relatives and again to telling the owner his cousin was “seriously fit right now” or that his “Uncle’s got hairy balls”. Crude, yes, but effective. It never failed to get a laugh and was used to defuse tension to great effect.

Finally, they enforce conformity. This might seem a strange statement given this whole article revolves around the lack of consistency that sailing locution exhibits, but this might be its greatest strength. Communities are bound together by common purpose, some underlying concept that all members in that community ascribe to. Groups can weather the storm of financial collapse or great technological and societal change, however, problems come when this common narrative is lost or diluted.

Yacht Clubs provide a perfect and constant example of this phenomenon, when non-sailors decide to “help” by sitting on committees, or running events, the club rapidly deviates it’s focus from sailing itself, to other aspects such as bar carpets, social events and club attire. These things are valuable and often heighten the appeal of the club and experience for members, but when this behaviour is left unchecked, it soon becomes a detriment to the true purpose of the club, facilitating sailing.

Language is a good corrective tool here too, for someone to penetrate the group they must immerse themselves in the world of sailing and with the more anachronistic terms, the individual must integrate properly into the crew. This necessitates that they form an understanding of the foundational principals and goals of the group, quite often this is subconscious, though this does not matter and this understanding reduces the possibility of unintended subversion.

I implore you, therefore, don’t do away with your vang, gnav and kicker, your Cunningham, downhaul and luff tensioner are all valuable pieces of equipment to be mis-labelled when hung up for winter. Pinch, squeeze, harden up and shoot it to your heart’s content. Do all these things with the knowledge that, far from trapping the sport in the “Dark Ages”, you are protecting it from a slow degradation and dissolution whilst revelling in the silliness as well.