I just was told this morning that my friend and fellow SAR member Bob S. died yesterday in a plane crash. Along with being a pilot, Bob was also a keen sailor, having completed a 4 year circumnavigation in the early nineties. We would often sit and talk of his adventures at sea and his stories were always quite good. He died during take-off when the engine apparently quit. He was in a highly populated residential area but managed to steer the plane away from the houses and crash in a small open area on the side of a steep hill. What I'm wondering, is there any special rituals, words to be said, etc. for a sailor at their funeral? I need help on this quick because his funeral is on Thursday. Any help you can give would be deeply appreciated. Thank you very much, Jeff
Any special funeral rituals for sailors?
- Thread starter Jeff M21319
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- Jan 22, 2008
- 519
ex sar
I can't help you with the sailor part, but as an ex sar, we have done a flyover at the graveside in the missing man formation on previous occasions. It did require a portable radio by an onlooker on site, to get the timing right, ususally just after the last words of the minister, but before the graveside party departs. If the group is flying formation they can circle about 5 miles out unobtrusively, yet be on site given the word, in about 3 minutes. The 'missing man' departs the formation overhead the cemetary, banking right, and in our case towards the sun. In terms of words, I would suggest the poem High Flight, but again a reference to flight, not sailing. Sorry for your loss.
I can't help you with the sailor part, but as an ex sar, we have done a flyover at the graveside in the missing man formation on previous occasions. It did require a portable radio by an onlooker on site, to get the timing right, ususally just after the last words of the minister, but before the graveside party departs. If the group is flying formation they can circle about 5 miles out unobtrusively, yet be on site given the word, in about 3 minutes. The 'missing man' departs the formation overhead the cemetary, banking right, and in our case towards the sun. In terms of words, I would suggest the poem High Flight, but again a reference to flight, not sailing. Sorry for your loss.
Words
Jeff, Sorry for the loss of your friend. With such short notice may I suggest that you contact any Naval chaplins office or any Military Chaplins office in your area. If that can not be done try any priest, minister or rabbi in your area. One might also say something from the heart with sailing as a main theme. He must have been lucky to have a friend like you who is attempting to give him a fine farewell. Fish
Jeff, Sorry for the loss of your friend. With such short notice may I suggest that you contact any Naval chaplins office or any Military Chaplins office in your area. If that can not be done try any priest, minister or rabbi in your area. One might also say something from the heart with sailing as a main theme. He must have been lucky to have a friend like you who is attempting to give him a fine farewell. Fish
I'm so sorry!
Tennyson's "Crossing the Bar" is a favorite for sailors funerals: Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound or foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell; When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar. Another is John Masefield's "Sea Fever:" I MUST down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking. I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life. To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over. "Invictus" was read at my husband's funeral (perhaps more appropriate for someone who died of cancer as he did than for the victim of a plane crash, but here is it is for your consideration): OUT of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbow'd. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. Funerals are an occasion for remembering the person, sharing memories of him and/or stories about him--even better if they evoke laughter. So Along with, or instead of, any poem the telling of some of his favorite sailing stories or adventures would also be entirely appropriate. There are no "rules" for saying good-bye to a friend...do whatever feels right to you. My heart goes out to you for the loss of your friend.
Tennyson's "Crossing the Bar" is a favorite for sailors funerals: Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound or foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell; When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar. Another is John Masefield's "Sea Fever:" I MUST down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking. I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life. To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over. "Invictus" was read at my husband's funeral (perhaps more appropriate for someone who died of cancer as he did than for the victim of a plane crash, but here is it is for your consideration): OUT of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbow'd. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. Funerals are an occasion for remembering the person, sharing memories of him and/or stories about him--even better if they evoke laughter. So Along with, or instead of, any poem the telling of some of his favorite sailing stories or adventures would also be entirely appropriate. There are no "rules" for saying good-bye to a friend...do whatever feels right to you. My heart goes out to you for the loss of your friend.
I'm so sorry!
Tennyson's "Crossing the Bar" is a favorite for sailors funerals: Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound or foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell; When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar. Another is John Masefield's "Sea Fever:" I MUST down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking. I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life. To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over. "Invictus" was read at my husband's funeral (perhaps more appropriate for someone who died of cancer as he did than for the victim of a plane crash, but here is it is for your consideration): OUT of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbow'd. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. Funerals are an occasion for remembering the person, sharing memories of him and/or stories about him--even better if they evoke laughter. So Along with, or instead of, any poem the telling of some of his favorite sailing stories or adventures would also be entirely appropriate. My heart goes out to you for the loss of your friend.
Tennyson's "Crossing the Bar" is a favorite for sailors funerals: Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound or foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell; When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar. Another is John Masefield's "Sea Fever:" I MUST down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking. I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life. To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over. "Invictus" was read at my husband's funeral (perhaps more appropriate for someone who died of cancer as he did than for the victim of a plane crash, but here is it is for your consideration): OUT of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbow'd. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. Funerals are an occasion for remembering the person, sharing memories of him and/or stories about him--even better if they evoke laughter. So Along with, or instead of, any poem the telling of some of his favorite sailing stories or adventures would also be entirely appropriate. My heart goes out to you for the loss of your friend.
damn, i havent cried in a whlie..
thanks you guys, bob will be haoppy when i say that too much thankslater jeff
thanks you guys, bob will be haoppy when i say that too much thankslater jeff
sorry to hear about your friend
Hi, Sorry to hear about your friend but as a fellow pilot myself(student) I am curious what the SAR is. Again Sorry for Your Loss Brad
Hi, Sorry to hear about your friend but as a fellow pilot myself(student) I am curious what the SAR is. Again Sorry for Your Loss Brad
Sorry...
" May you have fair winds and following seas" can be added to a tribute as a farewell. Marc
" May you have fair winds and following seas" can be added to a tribute as a farewell. Marc
Sorry for your loss
but remember the skies will be a little bluer and the sunrises a lot brighter because he is now part of them
but remember the skies will be a little bluer and the sunrises a lot brighter because he is now part of them
Music
Jeff, Most sorry for your loss. Don't know about any rituals, but here's a link to the Navy Hymn that expresses pretty well the feelings of anyone setting out on the sea. Steve
Jeff, Most sorry for your loss. Don't know about any rituals, but here's a link to the Navy Hymn that expresses pretty well the feelings of anyone setting out on the sea. Steve
Another thought
I don't know how religious your friend was, but semi-agnostic that I am, these words never fail to move me and are certainly appropriate for a sailor: They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Psalms, 107:23-30, KJV
I don't know how religious your friend was, but semi-agnostic that I am, these words never fail to move me and are certainly appropriate for a sailor: They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven. Psalms, 107:23-30, KJV
so sorry
So sorry to hear of the death of your friend. Not sure if this is appropriate for him or for you, but it's offered with the best of intentions. I wish you comfort in your grief. Tricia Thomas Campion. 1567?–1619 176. O come quickly! NEVER weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore, Never tirèd pilgrim's limbs affected slumber more, Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast: O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest! Ever blooming are the joys of heaven's high Paradise, Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our eyes: Glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the Blessèd only see: O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to Thee!
So sorry to hear of the death of your friend. Not sure if this is appropriate for him or for you, but it's offered with the best of intentions. I wish you comfort in your grief. Tricia Thomas Campion. 1567?–1619 176. O come quickly! NEVER weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore, Never tirèd pilgrim's limbs affected slumber more, Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast: O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest! Ever blooming are the joys of heaven's high Paradise, Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our eyes: Glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the Blessèd only see: O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to Thee!
Thanks to everyone...
for the kind words and support. Bob's service was yesterday and was quite nice, all things considered. Thanks especially for the Tennyson, it was quite appropriate. I guess you just have to figure that he went out doing something he loved and that's better than most any other way. Thanks again, Jeff
for the kind words and support. Bob's service was yesterday and was quite nice, all things considered. Thanks especially for the Tennyson, it was quite appropriate. I guess you just have to figure that he went out doing something he loved and that's better than most any other way. Thanks again, Jeff
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