The Launching of the Humbug

The Humbug stands by for her christening.

My friends Leslie and Mike held a party today at the seaport in Redwood City on San Francisco Bay for the christening and launching of their new wooden boat the Humbug. I must confess I thought the name just meant the thing was going to have a grouch for a captain--and Mike didn't seem like a grouch--until Leslie explained.

Mike, with his curiously-named new wooden boat.

Mike gave her naming rights--it's a sea-faring tradition to have a woman name and christen a ship--and since she comes from a family of 49ers, she used her family roots to complete her task. It seems her great grandfather came to California in search of gold, and like many 49ers, ended up doing something else: in his case driving a stagecoach through Northern California's Humbug Valley. The valley itself had been named by 49ers who, having been told there was gold to be found there and then finding none, said the valley was just a "humbug." Humbug is an old term for hoax or jest. (Which is why old Scrooge said "Bah humbug!" He meant, to him, Christmas was just a joke, forever linking the word humbug, erroneously, with grouchiness.)

Thus it was that my friend Leslie came up with the boat's name.

Leslie and Mike stand proudly on the dock near their Humbug.

Leslie and I go back to junior high school: earlier than that if you count the time in grammar school that we met while competing in the Junior Olympics. We've been friends a long time. Mike, as you might imagine, came along somewhat later, but Leslie having embraced him during the long years of their marriage, I embrace him by the terms of friendship.

He's faced an illness this year, and she's faced the loss of her parents in recent years. They need some fun. It appears the Humbug will provide that, since she (the boat, not Leslie) comes with a trailer and can easily go along with them on their travels. A lovely thing.

As is also a custom, Leslie christened the boat with water from a special place: this is acceptable in lieu of champagne, which they thought might be too sticky--not to mention a waste of a good adult beverage. On a trip up North recently she brought back a tin of water from the Humbug Valley. And so it was, that the valley of her ancestors had a place in the christening of this 21st century wooden boat. She dunked Mike's new boat swab into the ceremonial christening tin:


Then with the seriousness appropriate to the occasion, Leslie gave the Humbug its first taste of the Humbug Valley along with its new moniker.



Life often puts us on stormy seas and there is nothing we can do except hang on and bail. When the sea grows calm again it is sometimes difficult to believe what we just endured. Sun sparkles on the water again, and all's right with the world.

For this new boat, there is no "Bah!" about it. May it go safely with its captain and crew through "rock and tempest, fire and foe." But, even better, may it always enjoy a smooth sail and a fair wind--Mike and Leslie don't plan on going too far out of sight of the shore.



O Trinity of love and power!
Our brethren shield in danger's hour;
From rock and tempest, fire and foe,
Protect them wheresoe'er they go;
Thus evermore shall rise to Thee,
Glad hymns of praise from land and sea.

Last verse of:
The Navy Hymn (1861)
William Whiting and
John B. Dykes