An ocean full of names
What's in a name? A boat by any other name would be ... somebody else's boat.
My new boat, sail or power, kayak or canoe, is going to go by the name Area 51. At least, I think it will.
Area 51 is this place out in Nevada that you can find out more about on the internet. Lots more, take it from me.
Boat U.S. recently published their annual list of most popular boat names.
No surprise, since this is a national organization of boat owners or boat owner wannabe's, anyway, that the top two most popular names are patriotic -- Liberty and Victory, followed by Aquaholic and Bite Me. The local favorite twist on the latter is Byte Me, which I saw on a slick powerboat in Padanaram this weekend during the Buzzards Bay Regatta.
It seems as if there are as many boat names out there as there are boats.
Much of the time, fishermen name theirs after their wives and daughters, but so do sailors and hotshot racers. Witness (again at the BBR) Maggie Rae, Sofia, Heather and Jean Marie -- gotta be a mother, wife or daughter in there somewhere.
Then there are the sailors who name theirs with letter-number combinations -- the BoSuJa VI, a nice double-ender (Bob, Sue and Jan) or the Hajaalma III, which I thought was some Scandinavian thunder god but turned out to be a combination of the first two letters of the owner's wife and daughter's names. This particular sailor, if he added in the names of his existing male and female progeny, would have to buy an America's Cup contender and hire the entire crew at College Painters to maintain gender equity.
Hey, there's a name for a boat -- Gender Equity -- maybe belonging to your local banker with a couple of daughters on his case. Stockbrokers or bond traders favor money-related names like Gambler, Vagabond or triple trouble (lowercase, please).
Word-word combos are fun names, too. In Marion, there used to be a Teagineer, two of them in fact. One was a sailboat, the other a nice highriding twin-screw -- and both were in dry-dock.
There are the play-on-word names -- trimarans called Triceratops, Tri Me or Triad. Language junkies seem to prefer Saylavee, Sailavie or Sailor V.
Rock-star wannabe's or classic-rock aficionados favor titles like No Quarter, Night Train, Darkstar, Purple Haze, Tequila Sunrise or Desperado.
If Bill Clinton were naming his boat, he could have called it Moniker.
Every harbor in the South Coast used to have a Dulcinea, Don Quixote's lady friend (with a tender named Sancho Panza) -- but no more. Classical literary types prefer Cordelia, Scheherazade, Cassiopeia, Toad's Hull or the ever-popular Shadowfax. Like Ram Island and Cormorant Rock, every harbor seems to have one.
Corporate names are easy to spot -- Quokka, Horizon, Tioga. Emerald Isle, Shamrock Sensation, Kathleen -- gotta be Irish. Look out for bird names -- Falcon, Hawkeye, Heron, Shearwater. Osprey used to make it onto the Boat U.S. Top Ten almost every year, but no more.
Only one name on this year's Boat U.S. list is a returning favorite -- Endless Summer. Yes! Please, especially this summer with its endless rain and oil spill detritus.
Number 6 on the list is Seahorse (my boat might wind up being the Sea Hoarse, especially after a long hard sail in a screaming wind with no one in the crew who understands sign language, including me). Others might favor C Hoss or See Horse. Or just plain Hoss.
Next on the list is Footloose, followed by Silver Lining, Miss Behavin' and Moondance. None of these seem to measure up to Comanche Flu (another name for seasickness), Blewberry Pancakes (who cleaned up that mess?) or Tastes Like Chicken (again a BBR boat that may do better than expected if the breezes hold out).
Wired -- there are lots of those. Wildflower -- the same. Ryan Walsh of the Low Tide Yacht Club came up with a current favorite in local racing circles. He named his Melges 30 Knot a Clew, and the name has come up every time I've been out on the water this summer, except on my own boat.
My first boat (it came from Woonsocket) had a very faded Autumn Miss on the transom. I was going to change it to Logical Knot but instead just let it fade out until I bought my next boat. That one had a grand old name board (did I tell you it's for sail?), hand made and still readable with a good pair of 7x50's.
Graphics is something else boat namers must consider. Former Mattapoisett Yacht Club Commodore Fran Grenon was painting "Imagination" on his transom when some neighborhood kids asked him the font name. It's called Disney, which fits, since his daughter Casey and wife Deb have a Disneyana collection worth, well, let's just say a lot of tickets to Space Mountain.
More and more, graphics come into play when getting that name on the boat.
The J-105 Maji Moto -- neat font, don't know the name -- had the dancing man symbol right next to it, starboard and port. The multihull Ultraviolet, in addition to sporting a lavender wave, sported a font that may have been Chiller, Magneto or Mistral (another popular boat name, for southern lawyers anyway). My font used to be called Americana or Century or something like that, but it's getting to look more like Verdana, Elephant or Times Roman these days.
Gen Y names like More Kaos, WildThing, Wazimo and Strategery, not to mention high five (again, lowercase please) hold up well, along with the names on this year's crop of 420's -- Gotta Jiboo, Goober Parade, The Goose. Must be something about those double o's. BYC 420 (Bayview Yacht Club not Beverly) even made it onto one list, along with the ever-popular "na" (not applicable).
Which reminds me, if Area 51 becomes my final choice, its tender will need a name, too. My current favorite (the Atari graphic, not the words) is Space Invader.
Barbara Veneri is a Standard-Times columnist. Contact her by e-mail at bveneri@hotmail.com.
This story appeared on Page E8 of The Standard-Times on August 3, 2003.
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