With exotic names like Turk’s Head, Monkey’s Fist, Lark’s Head, and Cuckolds’ Neck, a knot (and other rope work) can be fashioned exactly right or hopelessly wrong. They are as old as humankind and practically everyone living today has tied one. I pondered that fact as I thought about their impact on the world. In fact, without knots the world would quite literally fall apart. Since the dawn of time, we’ve fashioned some form of knot to help hold our world together.
Spotting a pleasure boat sporting the moniker, Knot Rite, my first thought was “that’s not spelled right.” One of several homophones to be sure; the English language is filled with them: right, rite, wright, and write in this case. Then it occurred to me that the word rite was quite correct, for tying a proper knot is a rite of sorts and one that has been practiced for eons.
The history of ropes and knots, splices, lashings, and hitches began in the dim past and little is known about their origins. Ancient humanoids used fibers and vines and ingeniously tied this material together. Their own twists and turns likely supplied the first examples that gave man his first idea about knots.
Prehistoric carvings and decorations feature knots of various forms in their friezes, proving ropes and rope work have been interwoven into many facets of man’s daily lives. Tradesmen perfected the art while songs and stories praised their strength and steadfastness. Ancient Greek tales of great odysseys wouldn’t be complete without their Gordian Knot; the Bible mentions ropes in dozens of verses; and knots appear as symbols and badges of ancient Celtic heraldry, to name a few examples.
Still, despite their intrinsic link to mankind, at first glance it’s hard to imagine how anyone could fill eight volumes with over 1,900 handwritten pages and drawings about knots. Yet Henry North Grant Bushby (1863-1926) spent more than two decades creating a voluminous tome entitled Notes on Knots that was never formally published but now resides in the library gallery of the prestigious Mariners Museum in Newport News.
Thanks to the generosity of his daughter, Dorothy, who donated her father’s manuscripts in 1957, Bushby provided a detailed discussion of rope work, along with carefully hand-drawn illustrations. Drawing on often obscure sources and careful research, the volumes advance through mankind’s countless link with knots and, unless your life has revolved entirely around Velcro and slip-on shoes, you can begin at your own feet.
Your shoes were likely the first knots you ever learned to tie. The shoelace or bowknot is a simple half-hitch with those twin bunny-ear loops that keep your feet snugly wrapped, but with an ingenious release that can free them in an instant. Glance in the mirror and you may find more knots—the belt on your morning robe, the knot in your necktie, your plaited braid or your favorite sweater. Whether cotton, twine, wool, acrylic, or nylon, everyone is held together with knots. Even that loaf of bread waiting on your dining table may be tied into a knot.
From surgical stitches to suspensions bridges, the world depends on knots and cordage. They may be ancient technology but are indispensable in today’s world. On NASA’s Mars rover, Curiosity, cables are bundled and tied down with a form of reef knot, used by mariners for thousands of years to trim their sails. Closer to home, in a region that revolves around rivers and creeks, the humble knot is invaluable to working and pleasure boaters alike.
Nothing is more bewildering or fascinating to a landlubber than watching the deft moves of a seasoned sailor as they create ties, hitches, and bow lines when making their vessel fast to a dock or mooring. At sea, a boat’s speed is measured in knots. Today’s onboard electronics take the guesswork out of knowing how fast one is moving, but for centuries mariners used a variety of rope techniques to determine their speed.
By the 17th century, seamen measured the speed of their vessel using a device called a Dutch or common log. A coil of rope tied with evenly spaced knots, and attached to a wedge-shaped piece of wood, was lowered from the stern and allowed to float behind it. The line played out for a specified period of time as determined by an hourglass. At the end of that time, the rope was pulled aboard and the number of knots on the rope between the ship and the wood counted. The ship’s speed was said to be the number of knots counted. A knot, or one nautical mile, was standardized in 1929 at 6,076 feet; 796 feet longer than a land mile.
To pass the long hours of a ship’s voyage in the days of sail, seamen from England, Spain, and other great sailing nations kept busy between watches tying decorative knots, which they would sell to residents and travelers at seaport towns. Most seamen were illiterate and rope was plentiful. Knots were a product of boredom.
Knot boards, bell ropes, lanyards, buttons, boat fenders, chest handles, hammocks, even candlesticks and chalices were intricately woven from Manila rope, hemp, and rattan. This fancy work provided extra income for seamen and useful and decorative items for hanging inside or outside one’s home.
These remnants of maritime culture have all but vanished; a few fine examples carefully curated in museums and private collections. Today, the International Guild of Knot Tyers brings together people with interests in knots and knotting techniques. With over 800 members worldwide, Guild members come from all walks of life. Begun in England with just 25 individuals more than three decades ago, the Guild hosts meetings, knotting events, and festivals to help promote the practice, science, and art of knotting. Sadly, as the generations pass, the number of practitioners wanes.
In Wake, in Middlesex County, Guild member Fred Dant has been enamored with knots since he was a teenager in the early ‘60s. Hanging out at Garrett’s Marina, Dant’s grandfather taught him how to create a proper eye splice (a permanent loop in the end of a rope). Dant would watch for boaters returning to the marina that had a mess of tangled, ragged lines and would offer to make them a perfect splice for a dollar apiece. Once he had enough money to fill his five gallon gas can, he would fill his skiff’s motor, and off he’d go, until he ran out of gas and needed a tow home.
At seventeen Dant enlisted in the Navy and became a boatswain’s mate, where he learned to tie more knots. He admired a fellow sailor’s Turk’s Head key fob and learned how to tie it, half hitches, and other decorative knots. Mustered out, Dant became involved with teaching Boy Scouts how to knot, collected knot tying books, and began making Monkey’s Fists and knot boards he sold as fast as they were finished. In the 1990s, he taught knotting classes throughout the region that were extremely popular. Now an active septuagenarian, Dant continues to accept commissions and is still tied up in knots!
“Anyone can learn to tie a knot,” says Dant. “Check out the Guild’s website and you will find links to some of the best knot tying sites on the web. There are clubs all over the world, including the USA.” The Internet is filled with video tutorials and numerous books have been written on the subject. As you glance around, how many knots do you see? It’s impossible to think about our world without acknowledging the humble knot.
If you’re not into boating or tying your own knots, just look around at our ever-popular coastal décor. Pillows, rugs, bedding, cocktail accoutrements, art work, and clothing all sport a variety of decorative knots.
So, do sailors actually tie knots? Dant laughs and offers his sailor’s perspective:
A splice is put in.
A rope made fast to an object with a hitch.
Two ropes are bent together.
A knot is put in, made, or cast in a rope.
A sailor takes a turn and he belays.
He claps on a stopper.
He slacks away and casts off a line.
He clears a tangle.
He opens a jammed knot.
He works a Turks Head or a Sinnet.
But the only time he ties is when his voyage is over and he ties up to a wharf.
We think that says it all!
Special thanks to Fred Dant, who taught me how to tie a proper Monkey’s Fist years ago.