Navy Customs and Traditions – Part 1 – “Impressment” – “Press Gang” – “Shanghai”

“IMPRESSMENT” – “PRESS GANG” – “SHANGHAI”

Navy Customs and Traditions – Part 1

By

VIKRAM KARVE

IMPRESSMENT – “PRESSING” MEN INTO NAVAL SERVICE

Impressment means forcing men into Naval Service by compulsion.

Colloquially – Impressment – the practice of “pressing” men into Naval Service – was also called “Press Gang” or “Shanghai”.

In the 16^th 17^th and 18^th Centuries (the era of Sailing Ships) – in order to explore the world and create colonies all over the world – European Nations developed powerful Navies with large number of Ships.

Those days – on age of sail – working conditions for Sailors were harsh and life was dangerous.

So – most citizens were unwilling to work on ships as sailors – resulting in a shortage of crew on ships.

Navies of several nations used forced recruitment by various means.

The large size of the British Royal Navy in the Age of Sail resulted in impressment being most commonly associated with Britain.

Impressment practices included kidnapping and abducting men and putting them on board ships to serve as sailors by coercive techniques such as trickery, intimidation, violence, drugging, or by getting them drunk.  

Impressment was used by the Royal Navy since 1664 and during the 18th and early 19th centuries as a means of crewing warships.

In the early 18^th century – impressment was given legal sanction.

Impressment – wherein the British Crown had the right to capture men and force them into Naval Service – was passed by Acts of British Parliament in 1703 – and later in 1705, 1740 and 1779.

All “eligible” men of between the ages of 18 and 55 years were liable to impressment to serve on ships.

Impressment relied on the legal power of the King to call men to Naval/Military Service – and – as far as citizens were concerned – the failure to allow oneself to be “pressed” into service was punishable by hanging – although the punishment became less severe over time.

IMPRESSMENT PROCEDURE – THE “IMPRESS SERVICE” aka “PRESS GANGS”

Impressment was implemented by the “Impress Service” (colloquially called the “Press Gang”).

Gangs of Thugs – called “Press Gangs” – were engaged to enforce impressment.

“Press Gangs” were paid handsomely.

These “Press Gangs” physically rounded up and captured men from Pubs, Markets and other public places – often at night. They also trapped unwilling people by defrauding them or getting them drunk.

The “captured” men were taken on board ship and locked up until the ship sailed out to sea.

These “captured” men who were “pressed” into service would be on the high seas by the time their absence was noticed ashore.

Some of these “pressed” sailors later died due to worsening of the injuries sustained during their capture while others succumbed to the dreaded disease “scurvy”.

Appearance of the dreaded “Press Gangs” in an area could force men to flee from there.

“Press Gangs” were most active in the 17^th and 18^th centuries – in fact – laws were passed as late as 1835 to uphold impressment.

Of course – all Naval Officers were “volunteers” – and – so were “key” Seamen like Warrant Officers, Boatswains (Bosuns), Ratings etc.  – and – there were a few “volunteer” Sailors too (who were paid a bounty upon joining) – but – most of the “lower deck” comprised “pressed” men.

At the time of the Battle of Trafalgar more than half the Royal Navy’s 120,000 sailors were “pressed” men.

The Royal Navy also impressed seamen from Merchant Ships at sea.

However – this was done by individual warships – rather than by the “Impress Service”.

The impressment of seamen from American Merchant Ships by Royal Navy Warships caused serious tensions between Britain and the United States in the years leading up to the War of 1812.

Though the public opposed “Impressment” – the practice of impressment was repeatedly upheld by the courts as it was deemed vital to the strength of the Navy – and – by extension – to the survival of the British influence and realm.

Although no Foreigner could normally be “pressed” into Naval Service – they lost their protection if they married a British woman – or had worked on a Merchant ship.

In some exceptional cases – the British Government protected certain men from “impressment”– by issuing “Protections” against impressment – which the “protected” men had to carry on their person at all times.

But – in times of crisis – the Admiralty would order a “Hot Press” – which meant that no-one remained exempt from “impressment”.

In due course – the practice of “Impressment” became increasingly unpopular with the British Public.

On occasions – local officials acted against “Press Gangs” – sometimes – to the point of imprisoning officers from the Impressment Service – or – opposing them by force of arms.

However – the practice of “impressment” continued.

At the time of the Battle of Trafalgar (1805) more than half the Royal Navy’s 120,000 sailors were “pressed” men.

After the defeat of Napoleon in 1814 – Britain ended the practice the practice of “Impressment”.

However – in lieu of “Impressment” – they started the practice of “conscription”.

And – the practice of “conscription” was not limited to the Royal Navy – but covered all Armed Forces.

SHANGHAIING

Whereas “Press Gang” refers specifically to impressment practices adopted by the British Royal Navy – the term “Shanghai” is more generic in nature applying to the Merchant Navy and Foreign Navies.

“Shanghaiing” means to take someone against his will for compulsory service – especially on board a ship.

To “Shanghai” someone is to kidnap or trick them into working for you.

The traditional way to “Shanghai” someone is to drug him and put him on a ship.

When the person wakes up – the ship is at sea – and he has no choice but to get to work.

The practice of “Shanghaiing” dates back to the 1800’s when all ships were Sailing Ships.

In Nautical Parlance – “Shanghai” means to enroll or obtain (a sailor) for the crew of a ship by unscrupulous means – as by force or the use of liquor or drugs.

The nautical term “To Shanghai” may have its origins in view of the fact that Shanghai (China) was the most common destination of merchant ships for which such abducted sailors were forcibly conscripted by unscrupulous methods to collect crews for ships sailing from England/America to Shanghai which was considered the most long, risky and difficult sea voyage for which it was difficult to assemble crews since sailors were not willing to sail for such and long, hard and dangerous voyage.

Ships needed crews – but working conditions on ships were so bad that crews were often obtained by trickery, bribery, force and outright kidnapping – or by getting a man drunk till he passed out or by drugging him to sleep – and then – abducting him on board the ship. When the man woke up after a few hours the ship would be sailing on the high seas – and the hapless “Shanghaied” sailor could do nothing except complete the voyage.

The Captain of a ship would “shanghai” people when his ship was short of sailors.

The “shanghaied” person would wake up and find himself at sea – often on a long trip like to Shanghai, China.

“Shanghaiing” was made possible by the existence of Boarding Masters (aka “Crimps”) – whose job was to find crews for ships.

Boarding Masters were paid “by the body”.

So – Boarding Masters had a strong incentive to place as many “Sailors” on ships as possible.

This “Pay” was called “Blood Money”.

The most straightforward method for a “Crimp” to “shanghai” a sailor – was – to render him unconscious by getting him drunk – forge his signature on the ship’s papers – put the “shanghaied” sailor on the ship – and – pick up his “Blood Money”.  

Though nautical in origin – over the years – the meaning of the term “shanghai” has since become more generic.

Today – in broad terms – the word “Shanghai” means to induce or compel someone to do something by trickery.

The term “Shanghai” is also used for Non-Naval “abductions”.  

For example – if you trick your best friend into coming home with you so she can do your chores – you “Shanghai” her. 

EPILOGUE

In countries like India – due to huge population and rampant unemployment – you will always have plenty of “volunteers” seeking jobs as sailors in the Navy – so – there will be no need for stratagems like “impressment”, “press gang” and “shanghaiing”.

On the other hand – those nations which face a shortage of “volunteers” for military/naval service – these nations may have to resort to “conscription” – albeit – not the “Press Gang” type of “Impressment” which may not be acceptable in the “Human Rights” standards of today. 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved. 

Disclaimer:
1. This story is a spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story is a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:
No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.
Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

Infatuation Romance Love

INFATUATION ROMANCE LOVE

Fiction Short Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

Here is an “ancient” story from my creative writing archives.

I wrote this “old fashioned” romance long back – around 25 years ago – in the early 1990’s – so you may find the writing style a bit archaic and amateurish.

Dear Reader – indulge me – please read the story – and do tell me if you liked it.

INFATUATION ROMANCE LOVE – Fiction Short Story By VIKRAM KARVE

PART 1 – INFATUATION

Jayashree entered my life the moment I saw her photograph on Sanjay’s desk. 

And – she my life changed forever.

Till that moment – I had never wanted anything belonging to anyone else.

I stared transfixed at her photo – enthralled – captivated by her beauty.

“Sir – this is Jayashree – my wife!” Sanjay said, getting up from the swivel chair.

He picked up the framed photograph – and he showed it to me.

I took Jayashree picture in my hand and looked intently at her – totally mesmerized.

What a stunning beauty she was! 

Never before had the mere sight of a picture of a woman aroused such strong passions in me – and a yearning desire – to this extent.

Sanjay was talking something – but it did not register.

I hastily said: “Cute!” – for I believe that thoughts can transmit themselves if they are strong enough!

I thought Sanjay seemed just a trifle taken aback at hearing me say the word: “Cute!”

But – he smiled – and he pulled out a photo-album from the drawer. 

He began showing me the photographs and started describing his home – his family – his wedding – his honeymoon – the wonderful days Jayashree and he had spent together in Goa.

I took the album from him and looked at a photograph of Jayashree in a bathing suit which was so revealing that she might as well have worn nothing, but she conveyed such innocence that it was obvious that she had no inkling of this.

She looked ravishing. Yes, she was absolutely breathtaking. Her breasts were boldly outlined under the flimsy fabric and she radiated a tantalizing sensuousness with such fervour that I could not take my eyes off her.

“Cute...” I uttered instinctively – and unthinkingly – once again – and I bit my lip. 

It was the wrong word – but Sanjay didn’t seem to mind. 

He didn’t even seem to be listening.

Dear Reader – before I proceed further with my story – let me tell you something about myself.

My name is Vijay. 

At the time of this story – I was the Master of a merchant ship – an oil tanker. 

Sanjay was my Chief Officer – my second-in-command.

He had joined recently – and it was our first sailing together. 

I had not met him earlier – but in due course – he proved to be an excellent Chief Mate. 

He was young – just 30 – but he ran the ship efficiently – and I liked him for his good qualities.

There was something in his eyes that I could not fathom – but I shut my mind to it.

It’s extraordinary how close you can be to a man – and still know nothing about him. 

Sometimes I wondered whether he was much more naïve than he looked – or was he a lot more shrewder than I thought...?

“Captain – may I ask you a personal question?” Sanjay asked me one evening – the first time we went ashore.

“Sure,” I said.

“Captain – I was wondering – why didn’t you get married so far?” Sanjay said with childlike candour.

I sipped my drink – I smiled – and – I said: “I don’t really know. Maybe I am not marriage-material.”

“So you tried to get married?”

“Yes.”

“You loved someone?”

I didn’t answer.

And – as I thought about it – I felt depressed. 

Life was passing me by. 

I looked around the restaurant. 

The atmosphere was gloomy-dark and quiet. 

It was late – almost midnight.

Sanjay offered me a cigarette. 

His hands were unsteady. 

He seemed to be quite drunk. 

As we smoked – he lapsed into silence – his eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes – I observed a strange metamorphosis in his expression. 

He looked crestfallen – close to tears.

Suddenly – he blurted out: “I wish I had never got married.”

With those few words – Sanjay had bared the secret of his marriage.

I attempted to smoothen my startled look into a grin.

I was ashamed to find that – inwardly – I was glad to hear of his misfortune.

I wondered how could I desire and yearn for Jayashree to this extent – without ever having met her in flesh and blood – merely by seeing her photograph.

But it is true. 

My heart ached whenever I thought of her. 

PART 2 – ROMANCE

We sailed from Madras (Chennai) port next morning – and – we headed for Singapore. 

It was the monsoon season – and – the sea was rough. 

As the voyage progressed – the weather swiftly deteriorated. 

The ship rolled and pitched feverishly – tossed about by the angry waves.

As we neared the Strait of Malacca – I began to experience a queer sensation – a strange foreboding. 

Though I was moulded in a profession where intellect habitually meets danger – I felt restless and apprehensive. 

I had felt and fought occasional fear before – but this was different – a premonition – a nameless type of fright – a strange feeling of dread and uneasiness.

I tried my best to dispel my fear – thrust away the strange feelings. 

But – all my efforts to get rid of my fear failed. 

The nagging uneasiness persisted and soon took charge of me. 

It was so dark that I couldn’t even see our ship’s forecastle. 

The incessant rain and treacherous sea created an eerie atmosphere. 

I was close to panic as we negotiated the treacherous and hazardous waters of the Strait.

As I stared into the pitch blackness which shrouded the hour moments before the breaking of dawn – a strange tocsin began sounding in my brain. 

It sounded a warning I could not fathom.

The ship was pitching violently. 

I felt sick with fear – and I stood gasping for air – clutching the telegraph. 

I had to get outside – into the fresh air – or I’d suffocate.

As I groped my way along the rail in the bridge-wing – I heard a shrill voice behind me: “Don’t go away, Captain! Please stay. I can’t handle it alone. I can’t. Please, Sir. Don’t go!”

I turned around. 

It was Sanjay. 

He looked at me beseechingly – with terror and fright in his eyes.

It penetrated to me in flash of revelation what I had done.

I had transmitted my own fear into my crew. 

Sanjay was the Chief Officer. 

For him – to confess in front of the crew – that he could not handle it – brought home to me the fact of how desperate he was.

I had to take control at once.

“You are not supposed to handle it as long as I am around,” I shouted, “Go down to your cabin and catch up on your sleep. I don’t want useless “passengers” on my ship’s bridge. You just get out of here.”

The moment those words left my mouth – I instantly regretted what I had said – but it was too late now. 

Sanjay was close to tears – humiliated in front of the crew. 

He shamefacedly left the bridge – and went down to his cabin.

Suddenly – a searchlight was switched on, dead ahead. 

Instinctively – I shouted an order to the helmsman to swing the ship across across to starboard. 

I crossed my fingers – desperately praying to avoid a collision. 

It was a near-miss – but the searchlight kept following our sheer to starboard.

I was angry now. 

I stopped the engines – picked up the loudhailer – rushed out the bridge-wing – leaned over – and I shouted: “You stupid fools. Are you crazy? What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“We are in distress,” a voice answered. “Throw us a rope.”

I called the boatswain (bosun).

I told him to throw over the monkey-ladder.

“Be careful – and report quickly,” I told the bosun and the crew.

10 minutes must have passed – but there was no report. 

The silence was disquieting, ominous. 

I decided to go down to the deck. 

Before I could move – four men entered the bridge. 

They were wearing hoods. 

As I started at the nozzle of a carbine pointed at me – comprehensive dawned on me pretty fast. 

This was piracy on the high seas. 

Incredible – but true. 

I had never imagined it would happen to me. 

Undecided as to my next move – I stood there feeling far from heroic. 

There was no question of resistance. 

After all – this was a merchant ship – a tanker – not a man-o’-war. 

Saving the lives of the crew was of paramount importance. 

The man pointing the carbine at me said softly: “Captain – we are taking over. Don’t try anything foolish. Tell the crew.”

Suddenly – there was deep shuddering sound followed by a deafening roar. 

The ship rose – as if she was being pushed up on top of a steep quivering hill.

And then – she slithered down its slope. 

There was a resounding thud – followed by reverberating screeching vibrations. 

We had run aground.

Suddenly – the ship lurched wildly – throwing everyone off-balance. 

Sanjay suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

He made a running dive – and he grabbed the carbine from the pirate. 

It happened too quickly – and so unexpectedly – that I was totally dumbstruck. 

Everyone seemed to have opened fire. 

Bullets wildly started the bridge. 

There was pandemonium – as crew members joined the melee – grappling with the pirates. 

I hit the deck and froze.

I don’t know who pulled me up – but by then – everything was calm and quiet. 

“The pirates have been overpowered,” said the boatswain. “But the Chief Officer...”

I followed his gaze. 

Sanjay lay on the deck – in a pool of blood. 

I knelt down beside him. 

His face was vacant – but he tried to focus his eyes on me – whimpering: “Jayashree, Jayashree, Jayashree ...” 

I shook him – he tried to get up – but he slumped back – Sanjay was dead!

PART 3 – LOVE

6 months later I knocked on a door.

There was long wait. 

Then – Jayashree opened the door.

Her gorgeously stunning dazzling face took my breath away.

She was even more beautiful than her photographs.

Dressed in white sari – she looked so proud in her grief – that I felt embarrassed. 

I had myself not yet recovered from the shock of Sanjay’s sudden death.

I said awkwardly: “I am Captain Vijay.”

Jayashree looked directly into my eyes – and she said: “So I see.” 

Her dark eyes were hostile.

“I am sorry about what happened. Sanjay was a brave man – and we are all proud to have known him.” 

My words sounded insincere – and I felt acutely uncomfortable.

“Proud!” she exclaimed, her magnificent eyes flashing, “Some people might feel grateful – especially the person whose life he saved.”

I was stunned by the sting of her bitterness. 

Never before had I felt such a burning shame – the shame of being held responsible for someone’s death.

I looked at Jayashree helplessly – pleading innocence.

But – it was of no use. 

It was hopeless now to try and explain. 

The hurt was deep – and I had to let it go in silence.

Jayashree excused herself,

She turned – and – she went inside.

It was then that I remembered the real reason for my visit.

I wanted to hand over what remained of Sanjay’s personal effects – the unfinished letter – his diary – the framed photograph. 

I would give her the letter first. 

Then – probably – she would understand the real reason for Sanjay’s reckless bravery – his suicidal heroics – and – his desperate concern about proving his masculinity.

When Jayashree returned – she was composed. 

I gave her Sanjay’s unfinished letter.

She took the letter in her dainty hands – and she started reading it.

As she silently read on – I saw tears well up in her eyes.

I do not know whether I did the right thing by giving her Sanjay’s unfinished letter.

Probably it would have been wiser to destroy the letter and the diary.

It would have been better to leave things unspoken and unhealed.

But – I had thought it would be better to exorcise the sense of guilt and shame.

Better for me. 

Better for Jayashree. 

Good for both of us.

It was not easy – but we both had to come to terms with ourselves.

Jayashree finished reading the letter.

Then – she looked at me.

She had a cold look in her eyes.

I looked at Jayashree – deep into her intoxicating eyes.

Jayashree looked into my eyes too.

We looked into each other – transfixed – in silence – a deafening silence.

And suddenly – Jayashree’s frozen eyes melted – and she smiled.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

This is a Revised Version of My Story written by me Vikram Karve 25 years ago in the early 1990’s and Earlier Posted Online in my Creative Writing Blogs by me Vikram Karve a number of times including at urls: https://karve.wordpress.com/2006/05/26/the-revelation/  and  http://creative.sulekha.com/jayashree_69166_blog  and http://creative.sulekha.com/the-unfinished-letter_83782_blog  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/01/jayashree-my-favourite-short-stories.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/08/adventure-on-high-seas-and-passionate.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/10/romance-and-love.html etc