Grab your grog! We’re diving into the fascinating, challenging, and surprisingly festive ways 19th century sailors kept the Christmas spirit alive at sea. 

 Life aboard ship on Christmas Day was often tinged with loneliness and danger. As Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem Christmas at Sea reflects, the holiday could be a grim reminder of distance from home, with storms and hard labor ever present. 

 Merchant vessels were, above all, commercial enterprises, and captains bore the responsibility of keeping crews focused on their duties to ensure safety and success. Yet some recognized that a brief holiday respite could lift morale and strengthen camaraderie. 

 These captains indulged their men with special provisions, transforming the day into a rare moment of cheer amid the hardships of the voyage. 

 Holiday fare at sea could be surprisingly indulgent. A roast pig - such a welcome change from the crew’s usual bland meals - might be accompanied by figs, chestnuts, and raisins. 

 No feast was complete without a toast. While brandy or rum were the most common offerings, sailors often improvised. One popular concoction, called switchel, blended apple cider vinegar, ginger, and molasses into a tangy refreshment. 

 Some seafarers took creativity even further. Norwegian explorer Fridtjof Nansen famously brewed his own “polar champagne,” mixing spirits of wine with cloudberry jam, water, and baking powder. 

 Whatever the recipe, these festive drinks warmed hearts as much as they lifted spirits, keeping Christmas cheer alive on the open sea. 

 

 Decorations aboard ship were often born of creativity and sentiment. Sailors adorned their vessels with evergreens, or fashioned makeshift “trees” from branches gathered at the last port, binding them together and fastening them to the mast. 

 When small trees were available, they were secured to the superstructure with handmade ornaments, while festive flags and lanterns brightened the rigging - signals of joy to any ship passing nearby. 

 Music and fellowship added to the celebration. Crews gathered to sing carols and popular songs, sometimes accompanied by amateur musicians among them. 

 In the absence of clergy, captains occasionally led brief religious services on deck, offering a moment of reflection amid the festivities.

 Another long-standing custom was firing the ship’s guns in salute, a booming tribute that carried for miles. And if a vessel remained in port on Christmas Day, these traditions could still be observed while preparing for the next voyage. 

 Maritime superstition, however, warned against setting sail on the holiday itself, as such a departure was thought to bring misfortune. 

 It may surprise readers to learn that one maritime tradition linked to Christmas actually predates the holiday itself: the bond between sailors and St. Nicholas. Long before he was celebrated as Santa Claus, Nicholas was revered for protecting mariners. 

 One legend tells of sailors caught in a fierce storm off the coast of Turkey around 325 AD. As towering waves threatened to sink their ship, the men prayed to St. Nicholas for deliverance. 

 They later recounted how he appeared on deck, adjusted the sails, calmed the sea and wind, and guided them safely to shore before vanishing. From that miracle, Nicholas became the patron saint of sailors, as well as of children. 

 Families waiting for loved ones at sea held their own traditions. In Greece, where many men worked as sailors, children crafted toy boats to honor the sea and express how much they missed their relatives away on voyages. On Christmas Eve, they carried these boats from house to house, singing carols as symbols of hope and reunion. 

 This season, as we enjoy Galveston’s beautifully decorated homes and festive events, let us honor the sailors whose courage and creativity kept Christmas alive - even in the most distant waters. 

 Christmas at Sea 

 The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee. They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;
But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,
And we gave her the maintops, and stood by to go about. All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head. We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;
But every tack we made, we brought the North Head close aboard:
So’s, we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,
And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye. The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;
The good red fires were burning bright in every long-shore home.
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about. The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer.
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,
And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born. O well, I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,
My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair;
And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,
Go dancing round the china-plates that stand upon the shelves. And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day. They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call.
"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate Jackson, cried.
..."It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied. She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and promising,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night,
We cleared the weary headland and passed below the light. And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,
As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;
But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,
Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.
Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)