Eight Bells: The final watch of 2020

The ringing of bells at sea signifies the end of one’s watch, with it being a long-held maritime tradition to recognize the passing of a sailor by the ringing of eight bells. Scuttlebutt honors this tradition with 68 published tributes to recognize the contributors in sailing who had their final watch in 2020:

• Bill Alcott
• Harry Anderson
• Arthur Bugs Baer
• David Barnes
• Charlotte Barringer
• Bill Bell
• William (Bill) Bentsen
• Becky Milton Bioty
• John Browning
• Louise Kevin Burke
• Kevin Burnham
• Frank Butler
• Peter Campbell
• Dayton Carr
• Phil Dyer
• Geoff Ewenson
• David Freye
• Doug Fryer
• Scott Gilbert
• Elsa Green
• Oliver Grin
• Fred Hecklinger
• Fred Hills, Jr.
• Dave Irish
• Tim Irwin
• Byron Jessup
• Linda Knowles
• Larry Leonard
• Ginny Long
• Meade Maxwell
• Howard McMichael, Jr.
• Timothy Mills
• Gary Miltimore
• Mark Murphy
• Jocelyn Nash
• Tom Nute
• Warren Oldroyd
• Larry Pardey
• Richard Parker
• Clinton Pearson
• Charlie Phifer
• Dave Philips
• Oliver Lee Pitts
• Charlie Proctor
• Linus Ralls
• Mike Rawbone
• Suzi Reese
• Toby G. Ritter
• Carlo Rolandi
• Wayne Schafer
• Charles Schifino
• Scott Self
• Drew Shea
• Susan Sinclair
• Harry Sindle
• Bertie de Speville
• Charlie Steigerwald
• Dick Tillman
• John Tinker
• Jim Titgemeyer
• Juan Torruella
• Jerry Tretter
• Bill Wakeman
• David Wilber
• Ceri Williams
• Johnson Wooderson
• George Zaimis
• Zvi Ziblat

Gone From My Sight
by Henry Van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me — not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,”
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

And that is dying…