Historians don’t really know when it started, but one of the earliest “recorded” mentions of a shipboard bell was on a 1485 British ship named Grace Dieu. Before the advent of a really accurate marine timepiece (Marine chronometer – 1761), which is a story in itself, time was measured using sand trickling through a half-hourglass.
Typically, a young lad was assigned the job of flipping the glass when the sand ran out and then ringing the bell to denote this vital job was complete. The sounding of bells on the half and hour continues today in the modern navies of the world.
Routine was established by the use of watches, or four-hour slices. Each ½ hour gets an additional chime. So, 12:30 gets one, 1 o’ clock gets 2, all the way to change of watch at 8 bells (4 o’clock), and then it repeats. There were some variations at night, but the standard became 8 bells at 12, 4, and 8 throughout the day.
Winslow Homer’s “Eight Bells”
Thanks for the history, but what does this have to do with the SaltyMare?
SaltyMare‘s ships clock has its own story told by Todd:
It’s an old-fashioned clock. Rather than batteries, it has a spiral wound spring in its works, so you just wind it once a week and it ticks away. It also has a spring for the chimes, or in this case, bells. My first memories of it, I was young, perhaps 11, in Florida. It held a spot in our hallway, central to the house. Its shiny brass body surrounded by a ships wheel is in contrast to its simple face with roman numerals. Here’s my guess as to where my father acquired it. Dad was career Navy and spent 25 years on submarines. The mid- to late-sixties would have meant perhaps he brought it home from one of his tours in the Mediterranean or it was a gift from one of the officers we hosted during a visit from one of Britain’s nuclear subs.
For me, it was just always there, announcing the changing time. As a Navy family, it goes without saying, there was order in our house. When Dad was at sea, Mom ran a tight ship, and the clock rang on. You got used to its rhythm through the day. Many a day, I awoke to hear 5 bells, and dinner was typically after 2 bells. The key was kept on top of a nearby bookcase. Winding was always done by Mom or Dad, regularly on Sunday. In high school, if I heard 6 bells, it was out the door running down the hill to catch the bus.
They gave the clock to me as an adult. I guess with my leaving the house, their life had changed, slowed down, I suppose. Maybe not as much order was needed. It rang throughout my adulthood and parenthood, in my various homes, admittedly sporadically. Like most older things we “inherit” while young, we set them aside for newer stuff. Heck, sadly forgotten, it once fell off the wall during the pounding of a renovation. Finally, during another one of life’s events, into a box it went. Always with me, too many memories to discard. When Susie and I sold everything we own to move to the water, it survived the cut. Just couldn’t let it go. We had it repaired, and today, it proudly hangs in our pilothouse as Mom and Dad smile down.
We’ve now listened to those bells competing with the wind to mark the passing of the last five days here at anchor in New Bight. Sure, we spent the time in the same ways our land-based friends would – housekeeping, cooking and eating (perhaps too much eating), reading, watching movies, playing games, defrosting the refrigerator, tracing the problem with the charging of the stern thrusters, honoring the sunset with the conch horn… Wait. Those last few are boat-specific. At any rate, you get the point. We are ready to move! This boat’s been at anchor here for two weeks. So, move we will, just as soon as we make a trip into town for groceries…
Time to go!
Our Travels 