Life at sea is not easy. In addition to the hard physical work, the low-stimulus environment and confinement also make the everyday life of those working on the ship difficult. This is still true today, but especially in the old days, when the speed of ships was determined by sails and wind. Despite modern technology, the ship is not one of the fastest vehicles today, and in the age of sailing ships, the crew often did not leave the sea for months (some even years).
In such circumstances, it is essential that the staff feel at least minimally comfortable. Among other things, the daily dose of alcohol contributed to this. This was done in the form of rum in the British Royal Navy for nearly 250 years.
At first, beer was distributed to the sailors (perhaps wine or spirits, mostly brandy, when we had it), but there was a very big problem with it until the level of development of the preservation industry, which is common today: it quickly deteriorated. So much so that they preferred to drink stale water instead, because it could at least be improved with sugar and lemon juice.
In addition to shelf life, beer was not a suitable drink in other respects: far from the motherland, beer was not really brewed in the new colonies. On the other hand, the production of rum began very early on the islands of the West Indies.
Thanks to the colonies, rum was available in sufficient quantities (at first there was no question of quality) and it proved to be durable despite the long sea voyage.
But since when could sailors drink their ration of rum? According to tradition, in 1655, when the British, having driven out the Spanish, invaded Jamaica, the officers rewarded their men with rum for the successful invasion. We could say that this is how a more than 300-year-old tradition was created.
However, the truth is that the rum ration was officially introduced by the Admiralty only 75 years later, in 1730. Until then, it was mostly up to the captains to decide what those serving on the ships ate and drank. However, it was this year that the book ‘Regulations and instructions relating to His Majesty’s service at sea’ was published, which regulates in detail, among other things, the daily victualing of the crew.
As you can see in the picture below, chapter III. point mentions alcoholic beverages. While in domestic waters the daily ration was 1 gallon (3.785 liters) of beer, while those serving far from the British Isles, if wine was available, 1 pint (0.4732 liters), or a half pint (0.2366 liters)of brandy, rum or arrack (a Southeast Asian spirit, which was less popular) was received. This dose was distributed in two installments (morning and evening), neat Ftor mixed with water to varying degrees, depending on (non)regulation.
However, there are some problems with alcohol, one of the best known of which is that a person does his work less accurately, with difficulty, and often becomes a tease. I don’t even mention what the careless movement due to the intoxicated state meant while working on the mast… According to the ship’s logs, most of the punishments (which were floggings) were imposed for infractions due to intoxication. Therefore, over time, the ration decreased more and more. Until the abolition of the rum tax, the tot, as the amount distributed at once was called, was only half a gill, or 71.03 ml. So not much more than a shot.
We can imagine what kind of problem this much drink could have caused, especially in hot climates, in addition to the surplus from illegal sources (many people did not consume it, but stored it for “economic” purposes and sold it to their mates).
Over the centuries, many people have tried to abolish the daily tot in many different ways. Instead of a complete termination, the quantity was gradually reduced, or later efforts were made to reward abstainers with money. The former still worked during peacetime, but the latter was not in great demand for a long time – instead of the tot, they could get so little money that it was more worth drinking (or, as already mentioned, “store” it).
Modern technology drove the nail into the coffin of the British Navy’s daily rum ration. The machines that appeared on new ships demanded more attention, and it was impossible to get into a car on land after a tot. Finally, the day of mourning, the Black Tot Day, came on 31 July 1970, when – closing the two and a half century tradition – the bosun’s call called the crew for the last time to drink to the health of the Her Majesty.
As for us, if we don’t have to work or drive for the rest of the day, let’s pour ourselves half a gill and drink in memory of this tradition.
Up spirits!
(My post was mostly inspired by Captain James Pack’s book Nelson’s blood – I will present this book one day.)
