By Shannon Mitchell
FROM THE SWIM DECK
Good Luck to You, Sailor
Portrait orientation digital watercoloring illustration art of Shannon Mitchell in blue swimwear attire and a orange swimming life jacket equipped around her body as she is standing on top of a small motor boat that is situated on top of water
If you’re one of those people who throws salt over their shoulder, won’t open an umbrella inside, and avoids walking under an open ladder at all costs, I’ve got some news for you. Superstitions around boating and water are just as prolific and weird as those embraced by landlubbers. So I’ll see your broken mirror and raise you a bunch of bananas.

Since humans have been seafaring for tens of thousands of years, it stands to reason that they’d build up notions on how to avoid storms, drowning, and just bad luck in general. And like a lot of fears, they aren’t always based on logical links between cause and effect.

A vintage color photograph of a man and three individuals—two females and a young boy kid—standing on a dock next to a sailboat; They are all smiling and holding glasses of water
Folklore-rich superstitions around boating include avoiding certain words such as “goodbye” or “farewell.” Of course, we never want our next boating expedition to be our last, so the finality of the word “goodbye” can seem a little unlucky. But then I’m not quite sure what you’re supposed to say instead when you’re leaving the dock. How about “ciao” or here’s a good one: “Sea you later!” (Extra points with the dads for that one.)

Sailors feared having flowers and priests onboard, since they had strong ties to funerals and were considered omens of death. But I just think they weren’t great at tending plants on long sea voyages and didn’t want clergy around in case they, you know, swore or took up piracy.

Other common boating superstitions include that it’s bad luck to whistle, rename your boat, lose your hat overboard, or step onto a boat with your left foot. Eggshells must be broken into tiny pieces, salt should never be passed directly from one sailor to another, and shaving your beard was an absolute no. Perhaps humans find comfort in creating ways (however arbitrary) to feel like they have a bit of control over fate. I mean, if I could ward away all on-the-water tragedy with a lucky shirt or some well-placed facial hair, I think it would be worth it.

But the most common bad luck omen of all is the dreaded bananas. And what’s behind this, anyways? Well, they spoil quickly, so a boatload of bananas doesn’t have as much time to slow down and take in an afternoon of fishing. Bananas also have a habit of bringing along venomous spiders and snakes, and neither of those are great things to have on your boat—I don’t care how yummy the fruit is. There’s the classic danger of the slippery banana peel, which could inadvertently send you overboard. But the most interesting reason of all is why bananas are associated with shipwrecks. Since bananas float, bunches of bananas were often the only thing found floating in the wreckage, which meant sailors were quick to blame them for the cause of the disaster.

Don’t worry though. There are plenty of ways to ensure you have good luck on your next boat trip. You can throw a few coins overboard as a tribute to the sea gods, step on board with your right foot, and enjoy a lovely red sunset on an evening cruise. While black cats are bad luck on land, a cat of any color is always a good omen on a boat (though that might have come down to rat control).

In fact, an Oregon man recently became famous for sailing the Pacific Ocean with no one else on his sailboat besides his cat. After receiving a diagnosis that made him realize the present is all you really have, Oliver Widger quit his corporate day job, bought a boat, and sailed to Hawaii in the lone company of his cat, Phoenix. His well-documented journey, “Sailing with Phoenix” went viral as millions of people around the world wanted to keep up with him and his kitten crew. That’s pretty lucky.

When I was in high school and often went sailing on a small lake with my dad, we knew it was important to have a boat naming ceremony. We happily christened our boat Windsong with fancy stemware and a few sips of sparkling cider. But we definitely didn’t smash the bottle across the bow. Did it keep fate at bay forever? Not really. But it was fun to do. At least we never brought bananas.