loading . . . âFilth so foul and stench so offensive as not to be imaginedâ - Global Maritime History Have you ever wondered what ships smelled like in the Age of Sail? As part of our monthly âHealth at Sea in the Age of Sailâ series, here we reconstruct the pungent, acrid, and sometimes overwhelmingly fetid olfactory world of the wooden sailing shipâfrom bilge water and tar to unwashed bodies and human cargo. We consider what those smells can tell us about health, hygiene, and survival at sea. Endure⊠⊠during the voyage there is on board these ships terrible misery, stench, fumes, horror, vomiting, many kinds of sea-sickness, fever, dysentery, headache, heat, constipation, boils, scurvy, cancer, mouth-rot, and the like, all of which come from old and sharply salted food and meat, also from very bad and foul water, so that many die miserably. Today, references to the Golden Age of Sail often provoke a sense of nostalgia. However, shipboard life on the eraâs long-haul oceanic voyages was anything but romantic. Crewsâ berths were usually located in their shipâs forecastle, where health and sanitary conditions gradually deteriorated. Even on âfirst-classâ ships, sailorsâ chests were often âblack from the gas which rises from the cargo, and which smells like sewage âŠâ Worse still, Captain Henry Toynbee (1819â1909) reported having served on a ship that âwas carrying two packs of foxhounds and three horses, which received half [their] ventilation by a hatch which opened into the sailorsâ forecastle.â Dark, often damp, and always cramped, sickening smells became increasingly dominant: âŠÂ the âtween deck was crammed, with casks, and cases, and chests, and bags, and hammocks ⊠the stench of bilge-water, combining with the smoke of tobacco, the effluvia [rancid smells] of gin and beer, the frying of beef-steaks and onions, and red herrings âŠÂ A single candle served to make darkness visible, and the stench had nearly overpowered me. Below deck, rats, rotting food, foul bilge water, wet canvas, the shipâs decaying wooden structure, and a general lack of ventilation added to the smells of pine tar, pitch, turpentine, and the more unpleasant odors associated with human necessitiesâand even with the storage of dead bodiesâto produce a âstench so offensive as not to be imagined,â even by contemporary standards. Ventilation was a particular problem in the tight crew quarters. On Royal Navy vessels, the lower decks were regularly ventilated, or at least fumigated by burning brimstone (sulfur). Although ratings (non-commissioned sailors) slept on the gun decks, where gun ports could be opened, the atmosphere on the orlop (lowest) deck and in the hold was often heavy with noxious fumes and stagnant air. Moreover, the lower decks were periodically scrubbed with vinegar, thus adding to the nauseatingly unpleasant blend of odors. On French ships, ventilation was a rarity, however. Combined with the French habit of storing the deceased in the shipâs ballast to eventually provide them with a proper Catholic burial upon their return to home shores, noxious, mildewed smells rapidly became overwhelming: It is impossible to remain many minutes among the hammocks without experiencing a sensation of suffocation and nausea; indeed it is only necessary to lean over the main-hatch ⊠to recognize the heavy mawkish [faint sickly] odor that arises and betokens the over-crowding of human beings. Such conditions, worsened by incessant leakage and continuously wet hammocks, exacerbated the onset of scurvy, since higher doses of vitamin C are required in damp and cold environments. After several months without fresh fruit or vegetables, sailorsâ gums would become swollen and putrid, soon progressing to a state where many would cut away large chunks of flesh from their own numb mouths. Eventually, as the menâs energy flagged and they became increasingly lethargic, black ulcers developed and their bodies started to decompose. The smell of rotting flesh became a common occurrence. Lacking modern medical insights, many sailors feared that their scurvy-ridden bodies had been infested by the âmalodorousâ vapors of the oceans. The cure, they thought, could be found in the smell of earth, by their mere presence on dry land, or even by washing their mouths with their own urineâas the Portuguese navigator Vasco da Gama (1469â1524) had suggested. By the eighteenth century it was widely accepted that âmiasmasââfoul odors, allegedly also including salty seaside mistsâspread illness and disease. Doctorsâ orders to avoid cesspools, animal carcasses, and garbage piles were followed religiously until germ theory had taken center stage by the late nineteenth century. Odors were not to blame for the rampant spread of disease, of course. Poor hygiene was: â⊠the lice abound so frightfully, especially on sick people, that they can be scraped off the body.â Infestations of fleas, ticks, lice, cockroaches, spiders, worms, and âvermin of all kindsâ hiding in cracks and crevicesâparticularly in the moist bandages of the unfortunate souls recovering in sick bayâwere the norm rather than the exception. Cockroaches, in particular, spread viral, bacterial, and fungal diseases. Cockroach infestations were common. As a case in point, the US naval officer and author Daniel Ammen (1820â1898) explained: There was one condition ⊠that was disagreeable in the extreme, ⊠cockroaches; everywhere below decks it was ever present and repulsive. As soon as the hammocks were hung up, these pests would sally forth from their hiding places and fly around, chasing one another in joyful glee. The continuously moist conditions below deck literally bred diseases such as âshipâs feverâ (typhus) and typhoid, later followed by the new diseases of exploration, including yellow fever and syphilis. As voyages progressed, many sailors gradually abandoned most norms of common decency, often relieving themselves into the shipâs bilge, next to or under the guns, or even in the general hold. On merchant vessels, sailors often mustered with just the clothes on their backs. If they got around to doing their laundry at all, they used buckets of seawaterâafter first bleaching their clothing in urine, which was stored in large barrels specifically for that purpose. It is therefore not surprising that reports abound of European merchant vessels that were âmighty foul and stink withal; the most men not troubling themselves to go on deck for their necessities,â often until [âŠ] https://globalmaritimehistory.com/filth-so-foul-and-stench-so-offensive-as-not-to-be-imagined/