Half Mast - Not "Union Down": Schooner Days MXXXIX (1039)

by C. H. J. Snider

AT Trafalgar Hardy is said to have signalled Nelson's death to the fleet by lowering the Victory's flag to half mast. The custom of showing respect thus afloat is much older. It may have originated from the mediaeval usage of the petty traffickers "striking" or "veiling" their topsails to castles and men-of-war, that is, lowering them half way down in acknowledgment of local sovereignty. Half-masting was practiced in Toronto for Queen Victoria's death and funeral, and awkwardly, as though a novelty. In all kindness be it said, some of the half-masting for King George's death is just as awkward.

Here are two short safe rules for half-masting a flag. First and always, start your flag right side up. This is ensured by having the broader white edging of the "St. Patrick's Cross" in the Union Jack uppermost where the hoisting halliard fastens to the flag. These red diagonals have two borders, one broad, the other narrow, and they change places in the two halves. The broad white borders should be uppermost in the halves of the diagonals next the mast.

I. HOIST THE FLAG ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP OF THE POLE OR FLAGSTAFF, THEN HAUL IT DOWN NOT MORE THAN TWICE ITS OWN BREADTH, AND BELAY, or—

II. HOIST THE FLAG AND BELAY THE HALLIARDS WHEN THE TOP OF THE FLAG IS ONE THIRD OF THE WAY DOWN FROM THE TOP OF THE STAFF.

Ensign staffs afloat and window flagpoles ashore are sometimes too short to carry the flag twice its breadth from the top. It is for such cases that the position of the top of the flag one-third of the way down the pole is suggested. Army regulations I do not know. If the army insists on the midship centre of the mast for the top of the half-masted flag it can be sure of giving a very dismal impression. Is that as far as soldiers can climb?

Belay means to make fast, and "make fast" means to fasten permanently. It is not radio lingo "for "hurry."

Belaying is best done by weaving halliard-fall and tackline back and forth in figures-of-8 on a cleat. A cleat is a two-horned projection of wood or metal from the flagstaff.

No cleat? Then tie the halliards — but that is what makes for sloppiness ashore and afloat.

Halliard? The rope that hauls the flag up.

Fall? The end of the rope that comes down,

Tackline? The rope fastened to the tack or lower corner of the flag next the pole, to haul it down. Make your tackline fast after you have made the halliard fast. Haul the halliard hard taut but give the tack little play. That will let your flag blow free and keep it from wrapping around the pole.

"Breadth" has two meanings. In the navy one is 9 inches, the origin width of the cloths or strips of bunting of which flags are made. Bunting comes wider now but this kind of breadth still means 9 inches. A 16-breadth flag is 12 feet from top to bottom, and, of course, double the length, 24 feet. The second meaning of "breadth" is what we might call the depth of the flag, the measurement from top to bottom.

On shore flags are flown from plain and fancy poles and flagstaffs, some being rigged like ship's masts, with topmast, gaff and signal yard. Flags should be flown accordingly. The top of the flagstaff ashore of the mast afloat is fitted with a flat cover called a truck, to which the flag is hoisted.

Afloat ensigns are worn—that is the naval term—at the truck, or at the peak of the gaff, or on the taffrail staff astern. Jacks, smaller flags, are worn on the jackstaff forward, or at mastheads or in the rigging, for specific purposes. Signal flags, burgees and pendants may be hoisted to mastheads, spreaders, gaffs and yardarms as required. Yachts sometimes carry their private burgees or even ensigns at the upper part of the leach of the mainsail.

The ensign and the jack are the principal flags to be half-masted in mourning, but pictures show burgees and pendants sometimes half-masted, On the lakes to "strike the a fly" or lower that wind-finding pendant halfway down the topmast was a signal that the schooner wanted a tug.

Under weigh in sail the ensign is usually carried at the peak of the main gaff, or on the leach of the mainsail in a gaffless rig. To half-mast it, follow the rule. Haul it down twice its own breadth below the point of suspension, and belay. The same applies to the shore flagpole rigged with a gaff.

Whatever you do, and however badly you may feel over a death, do not hoist your flag "Union Down" or bottom up. That is an accepted signal of physical distress, an appeal for salvage and the lifesavers. There is no very rigid rule about a flag of distress; it may be a tarpaulin or a tablecloth, but the ensign upside down means "We quit."

That is a use which Good King George never for a moment contemplated for his flag. He was not a quitter.

In the Battle of Jutland, a boy of twenty suffering from duodenal ulcers, he stuck to his post in the 12-inch gun turret of H.M.S. Collingwood while they plumped five hits into the fleeing German cruiser Derflinger, and he served the cocoa at the regular hour, on the dot, to the gun crews.

He could not stay afloat so handicapped but he could and did go into active service in the air force. Twenty years later, though no stronger physically, he endeared himself to millions by coming to the wheel when called, though it was neither his trick nor his watch nor his profession. He was not born heir apparent, a Prince of Wales.

He lashed himself to the helm like a suffragette chaining herself to a pillar box and never let go while the good ship British Empire labored through the fierce gale of abdication and renunciation, followed by the typhoon of the world's worst war.

Some might zipper up their Mae Wests With "Commonwealth" stenciled on their seats and others might pick the threads of the letters D-O-M-I-N-I-O-N from their jumpers for easier swimming, but the heroic pinch-hitter with the pain-racked body and the difficult speech and the dedicated soul fought the storm to the finish, never blenching, never boasting, never despairing, sharing the worst with us all, giving us all his best.

He was as courageous as Carlsen and more successful. He saved our ship. She is battered and has lost some of her superstructures — and some of her barnacles. The pumps are going and the rations are low. But she floats, she handles and she's steaming ahead. God save the skipper's little daughter who now relieves the wheel. His long trick's over.

And we — at least let us half-mast our flags properly out of respect for our ever young Old Man, the best king we have known.

CORRECT

"TWICE THE BREADTH FROM THE TOP" has been pretty well observed here.