‘Three sheets to the wind, damn nearly decks awash!’
In the early 1900s, steam was rapidly replacing sail, and the square-rigged ‘tea clippers’ that dominated the merchant marine were fast becoming anachronisms. Like so many workers today, sailors suddenly faced an economy characterized by disruption.
My great uncle Leighton was one of them. He was captain of the clipper ship Melanope, which was withdrawn from service in 1905 after establishing the world speed record for Pacific Ocean crossings – 40 days from Adelaide, Australia, to San Francisco.
Not fancying a career in a steamship, Capt. Leighton Robinson came ashore and became port captain of San Fransisco. In this role, he mediated disputes between crews and ship owners, and very much maintained his sailorly idiosyncrasies – chief of which was his nautical speech. Even though the Melanope was beached, Capt. Leighton continued to talk as if he was at sea. To a little boy who first met him at the age of five, he was like a character straight out of Treasure Island.
On his first visit to the extended Vancouver family, he wore a sailor’s canvas shirt and trousers, and his captain’s cap. He’s fondly remembered loudly declaring that he was “three sheets to the wind, damn nearly decks awash!” after downing a few shots of Scotch.