Unlucky Minister and Fishing Boats September 10, 2015
Author: Beach Combing | in : Contemporary , trackback
Priests and monks have long considered to be unlucky in European folklore. If you met a priest in 1400 walking down a Derbyshire or Pyrenean road you would straight away do something to ward off bad luck: touch wood, your testicles etc etc. Priests and monks understandably got quite testy at being treated as albatrosses, it must have been tiring, and there is one hilarious account (another post another day) of a priest actually beating up a passerby who had made a sign to ward off evil, telling them ‘see I do bring bad luck’ or words to that effect. In any case, forget the Middle Ages, here we are in North Eastern Scotland. Love this account of the collision of gentile Edwardian (?) Christianity and raw pre-Christian angst in the second oldest profession (fishing).
It was amazing and intriguing to hear direct from Provost [John] Hall authentic details, together with names of the persons concerned – which I suppress – of twentieth-century queer beliefs and fears. When Mr K. became minister at Macduff he was unaware of fisher folk’s superstitions. As he was walking along the shore one day someone told him that B.’s drifter had steam up and was about to set out for the English herring fishing. Wishing to have a friendly talk with the skipper, a member of his congregation, Mr K. went to the harbour and hailed his parishioner who with his crew, was busy getting everything shipshape for the trip to Yarmouth. It shocked the fishermen to see of all unlucky persons the worst in such circumstances, minister —spoken of along the Firth not by the ‘oonchancie wird minister’ but as ‘the man wi’ th’ black quyte.’ Skipper B. was so perturbed that he could not speak in an ordinarily courteous way to the affable parson. He gave curt, surly replies to questions, fervently wishing all the time that the Rev. Mr K. would go away out of sight. He did not dare reveal his inborn superstition of bad omens by asking the minister to counteract the evil influence of his presence on the quayside by saying; ‘Throw us good luck.’ Even had the skipper made this request, Mr K. would not have understood that he was being asked to throw on to the boat’s deck a handful of coins which would have been allowed to lie untouched until they were restored to the donor when the drifter returned to her home port. Ab Eve Exp, 21 jun 1952, 4
There was only one possible solution. No the crew did not the kill the parson – though if this had been the Wicker Man – they went wast aboot.
Realizing that his crew were as upset as he himself was, the skipper quickly decided what he should do to avert brooding disaster. The drifter’s mooring ropes were loosened. Entering the wheelhouse without a word of farewell to the puzzled parson, B ordered the engineer to set the boat moving. Soon she was clear of the harbour, heading at full speed for the bay. When about half-a-mile out, the drifter began turning in wide circles, following the course of the sun ‘wast aboot.’ To cast off the incubus of bad luck caused by Mr K’s visit Skipper B sent his craft circling seven times round the bay – by tradition it had to be seven times – and during the whole performance, he kept the siren sounding continuously to scare away any evil spirits who might have infested the boat. Folk on shore, seeing and hearing what was happening, feared that someone had fallen overboard and that search was being made for a drowning or drowned man. But fishermen understanding what was happening, quelled public alarm.
Unfortunately nothing is said of Parson K.’s face though the fishermen hoped someone would tell him to stay at home when the boats were getting ready to leave harbor.
Beach wonders if he ever found out. Other unlucky priest/monk/vicar stories: drbeachcombing AT yahoo DOT com
