Sailors who have already crossed the Equator are nicknamed (Trusty/Honorable) Shellbacks, often referred to as Sons of Neptune; those who have not are nicknamed (Slimy) Pollywogs.
Each Pollywog is expected to endure a standard initiation rite in order to become a Shellback
During the ceremony, the Pollywogs undergo a number of increasingly
embarrassing ordeals (wearing clothing inside out and backwards;
crawling on hands and knees on nonskid-coated decks; being swatted with
short lengths of firehose; being locked in stocks and pillories and
pelted with mushy fruit; being locked in a water coffin of salt-water
and bright green sea dye (fluorescent sodium salt); crawling through
chutes or large tubs of rotting garbage; kissing the Royal Baby's belly
coated with axle grease, hair chopping, etc.), largely for the
entertainment of the Shellbacks.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Line-crossing_ceremony
Dylan as a young boy crossed the
equator with his parents so it was a given that he would preside as
King Neptune during the proceedings and I would be at his mercy. O
dear.
I'm reading down below and there is a
suspicious amount of clunking, shuffling and chopping with the odd
stifled giggle in the galley. I'm a very nosey person and it took
great self control to not go and peak or make sure that he was
cleaning up after himself. At midday (he decided to do the ceremony
then as that would be when the sailors of yore did it once they had
taken a noon sight), I was summoned to the cabin top where a very odd
looking platter greeted me.
Reading from a notebook Dylan then
continued with a poem he had knocked up but a few hours before:
“Something from the sea” - He
encouraged me to eat some octopus that we had in tins as we had
failed to catch a fish.
“A taste of the earth” - Now this
was repulsive. He had created a concoction that was raw dough with
uncooked rice and tabasco sauce inside. It was vile and I didn't
swallow it, choosing to spit it in a very unladylike manner over the
side. It quelled my appetite for a good 24 hours. Note to any dieters
out there, this would work a treat. Just pop some raw dough in your
mouth and attempt to chew.
“A thimble of brine” - Yep he got
me to glug some sea water.
“But a full cup of mirth” - A shot
of rum, now that I could do!
“Once a pollywog never to be, a
shellback is what I christen thee” - then pompously poured a bucket
of sea water over my head.
Et voila, I now join the shellbacks of
the sailing world.
(Dylan adds that the poem is copyrighted and all credits go to him)
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