Three Stripes

Ritual is an integral part of all human culture.  Academia has more than its share of ritual, and plenty of regalia associated with it.  When my wife first saw me in my academic cap and gown, she laughed, "You look like the Michelin Man!"  When I looked at her, puzzled, she pointed to the felt stripes on the sleeves.  Hey, those three stripes signify a doctoral degree!  "Well, all the same," she said.  "With that bulky gown and those stripes, you still look like the Michelin Man."  The 'three stripes' incident has stayed with us, and we still laugh about it.  Whenever I say or do something clever that impresses her, I will smile.  "Three stripes, baby."  And whenever I say or do something astonishingly foolish, she returns the compliment.

Early in my boat-owners odyssey, I learned that there are a good many ritual protocols and conventions surrounding boats and boating.  Perhaps this is not all that surprising, considering the uncertainties of seafaring and the perils faced by mariners through the ages.  Bronislaw Malinowski, an anthropologist who spent the years of First World War conducting ethnographic research among the Trobriand Islanders of the South Pacific, suggested that 'magic' may functioned to assuage fears and anxiety.  Native seafarers who participated in the regional Kula trading ring used ritual magic to cope psychologically with the perils of sailing open boats over the horizon to neighboring islands.  Malinowski saw this as a cultural adaptation: if they believed they had properly performed the magical rituals to avoid or evade the dangers of the sea, mariners could better focus on the practical skills and knowledge they did possess through empirical experience.  Thus, they were more likely to raise their destination successfully and to return safely home.

There are, of course, plenty of informal protocols concerning boat names.  The boat that I acquired still bears the name given to it by a previous owner, my friend.  He had moved up to a larger boat, which he had named after this original vessel.  So, there was never really any question that we were going to rename the boat.  Despite admonitions from some friends about the advisability of renaming sailboats, we simply could not envision two craft of the same name sailing the same waters.

After much too ponderous thought, I settled on the name 'Fanchuan.'  My professional career has involved me with China, where I have spent a good deal of time since my first year there in 1982 as a college exchange student.  I explained to my wife that 'Fanchuan' is Chinese for 'Sailboat' (帆船).  "Isn't that a cute name?" I asked.  Who else would name their sailboat, 'Sailboat?'" And 'Fanchuan' offered a referent to my formative experiences in China.  I assured her that no Chinese would ever name their sailboat 'Fanchuan.'  Very Clever.

Well, it occurred to Mr. Too-Clever-by-Half a few weeks later that there was good reason why no one would name their sailboat 'Fanchuan.'  As a language with a limited number of morphemes, Chinese thus has a good many homonyms.  Depending on how you write it, 'Fanchuan' may mean 'sailboat' (帆船), though it may also mean 'capsize' (翻船).

Three stripes, baby....