"Crossing the line" and becoming a "Blue Nose"

One feature of life aboard ship, that both Mrs PBT's and I were blissfully unaware of, was the strange ritual associated with crossing the line on the map, known as the "Arctic Circle". Whilst both of us had heard of crossing the equator, by passing from the northern hemisphere into the southern hemisphere, and vice versa, we naturally assumed that was it as far as "Crossing the Line" was concerned. We turned out to be wrong, and as our cruise ship steamed steadily northwards, we realised that by passing beyond the line know as the Arctic Circle, we were passing into another part of the globe, and by doing so, we found ourselves facing another seafaring tradition that was worth taking note of. 

The Arctic Circle marks the boundary for where you can experience the midnight sun in one part of the year, and the gloom of an Arctic winter at another. It's all due to the tilt of the earth's axis, and means that, the Arctic receives 24 hours of sunlight each summer, but 24 hours of darkness each winter. So, as with crossing the equator, traversing the Arctic Circle is another tradition that is marked, and quite often celebrated in nautical circles. The concept of commemorating line crossings is rooted in naval history. Sailors would engage in various ceremonial activities to mark the first time in their careers that they would navigate across prominent latitude boundaries – like the Equator, the Arctic Circle or its counterpart, the Antarctic Circle – as well as other important maritime milestones, like crossing the Panama Canal. So with those old matelots keen on letting their hair down, let's take a closer look at crossing this particular boundary. 

First the myth and legend behind such a crossing which, in the best naval tradition is designated as the “Order of the Blue Nose”. This seafaring tradition  dictates that when sailors cross into the Arctic Circle, they enter the realm of "Boreas Rex, King of the North", and the only way to be accepted into the order is to successfully complete his list of challenges. There is no fixed set of guidelines to celebrate crossing this crossing but, as the name “blue nose” suggests, it usually involves painting the nose of the participants in this colour, either by using dyes, paint or other blue-coloured substances. The term "Blue Nose” is self-explanatory, and hints, none too subtly, that some form of exposure to icy-cold water is about to take place, leaving the recipient with a "Blue Nose", and possibly other blue extremities!

It was Mrs PBT's who spotted a notification in the daily newsletter, distributed to all cabins, regarding traversing the Arctic Circle and inviting all passengers to witness and join in with the ceremony, up on the pool deck. We duly turned up, although with a stiff northerly wind blowing, and temperatures hovering just above freezing, it wasn't a day for getting wet, or for removing warm clothing. A handful of people, drawn from the ship's entertainment company, were in charge of the ceremony. They were dressed in a variety of different costumes, although one was clearly supposed to be King Neptune, one was a pirate, whilst the third was a bearded bloke, quite clearly in drag, with a long blonde wig, and a party frock! After a speech or two, volunteers, willing to become "blue noses", were called forward. Varying amounts of ice-cold water, drawn straight from the unheated swimming pool, were splashed, or even tipped over the, it must be said, quite willing volunteers, although Mrs PBT's and I had no desire to join them. It was cold enough just standing out on the pool deck, whilst wrapped up in a thick, insulated coat, topped off with a woolly hat. It was a bit of fun, and whilst the pair of us didn't technically qualify as "Blue Noses", at least in spirit, we did in reality. 

Looking back, it reminded me of the time when I crossed another of these significant, but imaginary lines, drawn across the surface of the globe. The date was March 2007, and I'd just booked a week's break for myself, in the Maldives. The holiday came at the end of a very stressful period in my life, which involved starting work for my current employer, whilst at the same time overseeing the sale of the off-licence business that Eileen and I had been running in Tonbridge, for the previous five years. I was putting in the 8 - 5 hours at my new employer, whilst looking after the off-licence in the evening and at weekends. Finding a buyer for the business was relatively straight forward, but dealing with the legal side was the complete opposite. With three sets of solicitors involved, you can imagine the stress behind both the business sale, and the complications of re-assigning the lease on the property, to the new owners. It was small wonder that I needed a break, once the whole thing was concluded, and the thought of disappearing to somewhere hot and sunny, on the other side of the world, was what kept me going through those dark, autumn and winter days.

So where did the crossing the line come into things? Well, the Maldivian resort selected for me, by the travel company, was a further 90 minutes flight from Male - capital of the Maldives, so after an 11 hour flight from Gatwick, I found myself boarding another aircraft, but this time a small, twin-prop plane with a capacity of 15-20 passengers. It was a smooth and relaxing flight, and en route to our chosen resort we passed over quite a few other coral atolls, some of which had been developed as resorts, whilst others just left to grow wild. Approximately half-way though the journey, the cabin crew advised that we were about to cross the equator, and as a memento of this event, we were all given a certificate, commemorating our "Crossing of the Line". I still have that certificate tucked away somewhere at home, but no matter where it is, it represents one of the two, significant lines of latitude, I have crossed in my lifetime.