There’s a production currently doing the rounds of British theatres that may ultimately prove to be of great significance in the continuing development of global music.
Fisherman’s Friends is the oilskin to riches story of a group of mariners who almost single-handedly have raised from the ocean depths of history the art of the sea shanty.
For two-and-a-half glorious, brine-lashed hours, we are transported to the Cornish fishing village of Port Isaac, where a group of shanty-singing local fishermen suddenly find that the songs of their highly specialised, regional trade have not just national, but global appeal.
It’s the stuff of showbiz legend how they went from pub backroom to a record deal and the main stage at the annual Glastonbury, Somerset, music festival, turning almost overnight a communal singing hobby into a leading music market brand.
However, peering through the sea mist and then the glitzy commercial fog, we glimpse a truth that is arguably of greater significance than the obvious good fortune that has befallen our band of Cornish seafarers.
And it’s arguably this. Probably for the first time since the folk revival of the early 1960s, a true people’s music has broken through the bastions of formulaic pop and established itself as a gale force to be reckoned with, and one that could also go on to invigorate the popular sounds of the future.
This hasn’t happened since black rhythm and blues smashed the then existing musical template seven decades ago. As the world-renowned blues writer and expert Paul Merry so astutely observed in his ground-breaking book America’s Gift, there is undoubtedly a parallel course of development that is common to both the blues and the shanty.
Both are firmly rooted in the work song tradition, and both developed in the aftermath of military upheavals and the ensuing social chaos, the former just after the American Civil War, the latter in the wake of the Napoleonic Wars.
Listening to the call and response of the British shanty, the listener is immediately reminded of the work songs of Leadbelly, tunes such as Take This Hammer, John Henry and There’s a Man Going Round Taking Names.
The heyday of the sea shanty was not long. For its lifespan effectively ended with the advent of steam and the demise of sail, with all the hard labour that entailed. Yet the tradition somehow survived in the hearts of the seafaring communities of England’s south-west.
Just as the Mississippi Delta became the spiritual home of a sound that changed the course of world music, so did the English west country’s sea shanty share a kinship with its American cousin, the field holler.
Like the shanty, this was the sound of rural America’s working people that eventually gave birth to first the blues, and then jazz, via the pioneering work of W C Handy, circa 1912.
Today, the epicentre of the shanty, and probably the place most associated with the form, is the town of Watchet, Somerset, England, and its most famous son, John Short.
For more than 40 years, Short – nicknamed ‘Yankee Jack’ – sailed the world in a great variety of sailing ships as an able seaman and later as bosun.
In the 1860s, some of John’s ships ran the blockade in the American Civil War, and because of this he was affectionately awarded the nickname of ‘Yankee Jack’ by Watchet townsfolk.
Short was born in 1839 and was an able seaman and bosun on the great sailing ships that set forth down the Bristol Channel and out across the world.
It was a tradition aboard these ships for sailors to sing sea shanties. This assisted them to work together when hoisting sails or walking around the capstan.
John Short’s strong and tuneful voice often led him to take the role of solo shantyman, and over the years, he memorised the words and tunes of dozens of shanties, including the well-known Rio Grande, Shenandoah, Blow the Man Down, A Roving and Spanish Ladies.
John Short was baptised on April 2, 1839, at St Decuman’s church, Watchet, eldest of eight children of Richard Short, sailor and his wife Mary. Richard was listed as aged 36, ‘master of vessel’ in the 1851 census and son John as aged 12.
It’s likely that John Short then went to sea with his father in the coastal trade.
John worked initially on coastal cargo boats along the Bristol Channel, but then became a deep-water sailor, sailing to North America. In the 1860s, he sailed to India and the Far East, and was joined on some voyages by his younger brother Sydney. He also sailed round Cape Horn to Peru.
John Short was absent in the 1871 census. But on July 23, 1873, at Taunton St James church, he married Ann Marie Wedlake, daughter of George Wedlake, mariner. In the 1881 census, it seems that John was aboard the ‘Crystal Bell’ schooner at Appledore, Devon, listed as aged 42, and ‘mate’ with William Organ as ‘master’.
His wife Ann was in Watchet with their only child, George, aged one. It seems they had earlier lost two children.
In 1891, John was at Charlestown Dock in Cornwall aboard the ‘Annie Christian’, listed as aged 52 and ‘mate’ to Isaac Allen ‘master’. In 1901, John was aged 62, living in Market Street, Watchet. His son George was 21 and listed as a machine hand at the local paper mills.
On receiving news that his wife’s health was failing, he returned to their small cottage in Market Street to help and comfort her up until the time of her death. Subsequently, he sailed only on short trips aboard local coasting vessels, including the ketch Annie Christian.
In 1902, he was appointed as Watchet’s Town Crier, and later took charge of the town’s Fire Brigade. He continued to sing with other sailors around the harbourside and occasionally at local concerts.
In 1914, at the age of 75, he was introduced by the Rev Allen Brockington, of nearby Carhampton, to Cecil Sharp, the renowned collector of folk songs and shanties.
Sharp was very impressed with the old sailor’s singing and declared that “John Short’s rich, powerful, yet flexible voice would excite the envy of many a professional vocalist”.
Over several days, Sharp transcribed the words and melodies of many of John’s shanties, which he gladly sang time again.
For his first encounter with John Short, Sharp had been staying with the Rev A A Brockington, the vicar of Carhampton, five miles to the west of Watchet. Later Sir Richard Terry, another distinguished collector, visited John to gather and publish yet more shanties from his repertoire.
Crucially, had these two men not met ‘Yankee Jack’ many of these delightful old seafaring songs could have been lost forever.
It seems that at the time of Sharp’s visits, John was caring for his second wife, who was crippled with rheumatism. She died in 1918 and John lived on until April 9, 1933.
John Short was essential to Sharp’s forthcoming book English Folk-Chanteys (1914), as 46 of the 60 tunes published therein were Short’s tunes. Sharp harmonised them in piano arrangements in a similar fashion as the Folk Songs from Somerset series. Short’s melodies are still widely sung today.
John Short died at the great age of 94. A simple obituary in The Times said of Watchet’s grand old sailor: “He thought little of his reputation as a singer, but much more of homely things”.
He was buried in Watchet’s churchyard, but sadly, there being no headstone on his grave, its location is unknown.
A statue of Yankee Jack, sculpted by Alan Herriott, was erected on Watchet seafront in 2008. It is the second bronze created by the sculptor.
It stands on the Esplanade at Watchet Harbour, the first being that of the Ancient Mariner, immortalised by the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge in his epic poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.
For many years, Taylor Coleridge lived in the village of Nether Stowey, near Williton, Somerset… yet another son of the English west country who, like Yankee Jack, would be guaranteed immortality.