The
Children of Noah: Jewish Seafaring in Ancient Times
by the late Raphael Patai Princeton,
208 pp, £17.95. Reviewed by Jenny Diski
I
was taught to swim so that I could get out of the sea, should
I even be so foolish and unfortunate as to find myself in
it. For the sea didn't seem kosher. Jewish people I knew were
tailors or shopkeepers, their children were supposed to become
businessmen, doctors, lawyers, academics, no one ever mentioned
the possibility of a career as a mariner. It made traditional
sense to me: hadn't Moses ordered the Red Sea to part rather
than have the Children of Israel get their feet wet?
There
is no evidence that any of the four great Biblical travellers
on water - Noah, Moses, Jonah and Jesus - had what you could
call a vocation for the sea.
Boat-building
in the Bible, and indeed in the other early flood narratives,
is not a skill discovered or intuited by humanity, Patai says.
Both the need for boats and the ability to make them are bestowed
on mankind from on high. Noah is the only shipbuilder in the
Bible, and he, too, gets divine instruction: "Make thee
an ark of gopher wood; with rooms shalt thou make the ark,
and shalt pitch it within and without with pitch. And this
is how thou shalt make it: the length of the ark three hundred
cubits, the breadth of it fifty cubits, and the height of
it thirty cubits".
Neither
Noah, nor the ten generations that preceded him back to Adam's
time, had any need for boats, Adam is named for the earth
from which he was created. His heirs were tillers of soil,
and builders of cities. Before Noah, the only time that the
sea gets a mention is at the beginning of Genesis, when the
spirit of God moved on the face of the waters.
These
were the seas that contained Rahab, Leviantham and other sea
monsters which sings the Psalmist, God defeated before he
made the world: "Thou didst break the sea in pieces by
Thy strength, Thou didst shatter the heads of the sea monsters
in the waters, Thou did crush the heads of Leviantham, thou
gavest him to be food to sharks of the sea". God, it
seemed, on some accounts (Psalm 107, the Book of Job, and
rabbinical commentaries on Genesis), did not just make the
world, he fought with the sea to make it. And having over-mastered
the waters, when he wanted to annihilate the world he regretted
making, it was the waters he used to destroy it. "I will
cause it to rain upon the earth forty days and forty nights;
and every living substance that I have made will I destroy
from off the face of the earth". (The rabbis, wishing
to take God's word literally, worried about the problem of
fish, who clearly would not be erased from the world by a
flood. It was solved when one rabbi decided that the waters
that rained down were boiling, thus doing for the fish, and
allowing God to keep his word to the letter).
Little
wonder that the Jews had no taste for the sea. Noah is silent.
Unlike later chosen ones who questioned and debated with God
about his plans, ever changing his mind, Noah never speaks.
He simply "did according unto all that the Lord had commanded
him". He is a survivor, not a sailor. The waters rise,
the world dies and, locked up in the box God designed for
him, he endures the wait. But Patai detects at least one element
of seamanship in him, by carrying aboard several "shore-sighting
birds". The raven and the dove give Noah a certain credibility
as a sailor, although Midrashic sources suggest that he spent
all his sea-going time learning what and when to feed the
animals in his charge. So much so, says one, that he never
closed his eyes for one minute during his 150 days afloat.
As a sailor, Noah became expert in animal husbandry. Back
on land, Noah showed no further interest in the sea: he took
up farming and planted the world's first vineyard. Though
in becoming also the world's first drunk, he may have been
exhibiting an elemental trait of the old seadog. Moses, too,
floated to salvation in an ark, though by now, it seems, boat-building
skills had been acquired and there was no need for direct
guidance from God. When the mother of Moses "could not
longer hide hime, she took for his an ark of bulrushes, and
daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein;
and she laid it in the flags by the river brink". This
is more river than sea-faring, but it's an oddly watery start
for a prophet whose life was dominated by mountain and desert.
Neither Noah nor Moses journeys on the water for the purpose
of trade or discover. The Bible refers on both occasions to
the ark as tevah, that is, a chest or box, and not a ship
(oniyah).
Though
Patai doesn't mention him, Jacob is another who, exhibits
a reluctance when faced with water. At Jabbok, needing to
ford the Jordan, he sent his wives and worldly goods across,
but remained behind for the night during which he encountered
the wrestling angel who would change his name to Israel. For
all that scholars might suggest his motive was anxiety about
facing his twin brother, Esau, whose birthright and blessing
he had stolen, it seems to me possible that he was in a watery
funk. Only an extremely unpleasant night sent him wading across
the river the next morning. Jonah, too, becomes a seafarer
through a greater fear of something else. Rather than proclaim
against the city of Nineveh, as God wishes, he takes flight
and buys a passage on a ship about to sail across the Mediterranean
from Joppa to Tarshish. The crew of this ship are not Jewish,
and when the Hebrew God foments a storm, they show both proper
sea-going superstition and seamanship by crying "every
man unto his god, and they cast forth the wares that were
in the ship into the sea, to lighten it unto them". Jonah,
strangely, sleeps through the whole thing, perhaps because
he is such a landlubber that he doesn't know it's time to
panic, or because he's such a landlubber that he's been rendered
barely conscious by seasickness.
However,
if none of these Biblical characters convinces me of a long-standing
Jewish attraction to going down to the sea in ships, the fact
remains that ancient Palestine had ports on its long Mediterranean
coastline, and that there was certainly much toing and froing,
warring and trading in the area. Of Solomon, we are told "For
the kind had at sea a navy of Tarshish, bringing gold, and
silver, ivory, and apes, and peacocks". ItÃs not at all
clear whether the ships were built by Solomon's men, but in
Judah, King Jehoshaphat "made Tarshish ships to go to
Ophir for gold", although Jewish shipbuilding skills
are thrown when we find out that these ships "were broken
at Ezion-Gever" either by a storm or because they were
inexpertly built.
According
to the Mormons, however, Jewish seafaring was an ancient tradition.
America, claimed Joseph Smith, was populated by a remnant
of seafaring Jews. The book of Mormon tells of a group of
Jews living in the early sixth century BCE under King Zedekiah
in Jerusalem, who, in an attempt to escape from an unfriendly
government, sailed, via the straits of Gibraltar, across the
Atlantic Ocean, to arrive somewhere on the American continent
344 days after starting out. So perhaps seafaring is a lost
Jewish art, after all.
Patai
offers plentiful evidence in the form of religious laws for
life at sea, Midrashic commentary on the Hebrew Bible, and
folklore to suggest that the Jews, reluctantly or otherwise,
were indeed a sea-going lot. But this doesn't necessarily
mean they like it.
The
commentating rabbis were ambivalent about sailors, though
they weren't enthusiastic about other professions either:
"Let a man not reach his son to become a donkey driver,
a camel driver, a potter, sailor, shepherd, or shopkeeper,
for their trade is the trade of robbers", the Babylonian
Talmud warms. Patai paraphrases the great Rashi, on the other
hand, saying "that sailors live in constant danger, and
therefore their hearts are inclined toward their Father in
Heaven; they travel to places of much danger and are always
trembling at the perils that beset them. "The distaste
for the sea continues. Were it not for divine dispensation,
says a Midrash on the Book of leviticus, "every man who
goes down to the sea would die at once".
Sea
journeys had become an unfortunate necessity and laws were
established for sea-going Jews. The Sabbath had to be kept
at sea, during which time no riding or sitting in any vehicle
is permitted, so the laws state that journeys had to start
no later than Wednesday and that a Jewish traveller had to
come to an agreement with the skipper that he would break
the voyage for the Sabbath. This was highly unlikely, but
it allowed the Jew to blame the Gentile for breaking his world.
Not that all skippers were Gentile.
From: London
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