(Editor's note: The Seafarers LOG is bringing back a feature we ran several years ago—The Galley Corner. We invite our members (in any department) to contribute some of their favorite recipes and, perhaps, a story about an unforgettable experience aboard ship. We will start this month with a submission from Steward Jack Williams.
The Storm Soup Sagaby Steward Jack Williams
I have been cooking in the marine industry for the past 11 years. During that time I have worked on tugboats, coastal freighters and research vessels in various oceans and seas of the world. As the cook on a boat, you are at the center of it all. You hear and see everything that goes on: the gossip, the news, the weather—and you are always right in the middle of those fantastic sea stories that everyone likes to tell about their experiences on the water. It was at the galley table that I overheard a discussion between a salty old tugboat captain and a crusty veteran chief engineer about split pea soup.
The captain was relating an old superstition that warns that making split pea soup while you are underway will bring up a storm. Of course I had to jump right in and stir the pot by challenging the whole idea. I asked the captain if he had ever seen proof of this first hand. He replied that he had, and he had no desire to see it again. I countered that it sounded like an old wives’ tale to me and told him that one day I would try it out and see for myself. The captain then warned me that if I ever made split pea soup on a boat that he was running, I would end up out on the bow standing a very long watch in the wind and rain. So I left it at that, went about my business and forgot all about it.
A year later I was on a tugboat with the same captain and engineer heading across the Gulf of Alaska in the middle July. We were on our way to Bristol Bay, Alaska with a very heavily loaded barge of cargo. One evening I went up to the wheelhouse to chat with the captain and noticed the weather map. Although these can be stormy seas, I couldn’t see anything that even resembled wind or rain on the map. I asked the captain if there was any bad weather heading our way and he confirmed that there wasn’t. Feeling mischievous, I decided that the next day we would have split pea soup for lunch. Of course, I didn’t say a word to the captain because I knew what kind of a discussion that would lead to. I just went to bed knowing what I was going to do that next morning.
Well, I did it! I made split pea soup when no one was around, and proceeded to serve it for lunch. The captain went ballistic! He told me to take the pot off the stove and throw it over the side.
“You’ve done it now,” he said. “Our good luck is over. Get ready for some rough riding!”
I laughed. “Come on, captain. It is just an old tall tale like walking under a ladder or something.”
He just got up, gave me a stern look and left me standing there with this to ponder. The rest of the day went smoothly, no problems, and nobody mentioned anything else to me about the soup. However, later on that night, I was wakened from a sound sleep, being violently tossed from one side of the bed to the other. I got up, pulled on my jeans and went up to the wheelhouse to see what was going on. I was not a welcome visitor at that moment! The mate at the wheel told me we were getting gale force winds holding at 45 knots, that the seas had picked up to 15 feet, and that it was all my fault we were getting pounded like this.
Go figure. There hadn’t been any indication of weather like this on the map. And to tell you the truth, I was dumfounded. It had to have been the split pea soup. Storm soup. The blow lasted only until morning, but we had a terrible ride all night long, and everyone was very upset with me. The next day was picture perfect, and the captain very kindly asked me if I had learned my lesson. Of course I had to admit that I had, and peace was restored between all of us. The rest of the trip was smooth as silk, and to this day I have never made split pea soup at sea again.
That should be the end of my story, but storm soup came back to haunt me a little while ago. The research ship I sailed with had a complement of more than 50 people, so there were two cooks on board. We were headed for the Azores in calm waters when the other cook made split pea soup for lunch. I was shocked!
“Are you crazy?” I asked. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?”
He replied just as I had years before that it was a silly superstition with nothing to back it up. So we served the split pea soup, and as everyone went through the line, I apologized in advance for the probable bad weather. Most everyone just laughed and thought nothing of it. Well, to make a long story short, the next day it blew so hard that we had to cancel work for a day and lay low. Needless to say, that made believers out of everyone.
I have no good explanation for this superstition, but if you are ever brave enough to make split pea soup while you are at sea, I hope that you are also smart enough to batten down the hatches when you do.
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