A brief dive into the most notable and colorful phrases and idioms of New England coastal speech.

Over the years, the people of New England’s coast have developed their own lexicon, a way of speaking, interacting, and sometimes insulting each other that is as colorful as it is seeped in the maritime tradition.

 

 

Counterintuitive, confusing, and sometimes downright code-like, these are not phrases meant to be understood by the average listener. Instead they are for the people who speak them, the sailors, lobstermen, and countless other mariners who have long called New England their home. In fact many of these phrases are nautical terms in origin, a prism through which they might finally be understood. Peruse this lexicon, and maybe the next time a Mariner calls out “That gahmy kid dropped my lunch, now I’m hungrier than a boiled owl and right out straight looking for some nooning,” you might have a clue what he’s talking about.

 

Away — Anywhere that isn’t native. If you’re not from around here, then you’re from away.

Backwater — A Mariner’s equivalent of backsliding, or backing out of something. Taken from the term for reversing oars or an engine so that the boat changes direction. As in, “Joe agreed to buy me lunch, but then he backwatered!”

Baggin’ the Bowline — Literally meaning to tie a knot the wrong way, baggin’ the bowline means someone is messing up, botching the job.

Boiled Owl — There aren’t many horses on the coast, so a Mariner might replace one word in the common phrase about being starving, saying “I’m hungry enough to eat a boiled owl!”

Calm as Clock — Completely composed, unflappable. If you’re calm as clock, then you’re no more likely to stop doing your job than a clock is to stop ticking.

Capful of Wind — A pleasant wind, a gentle sailing breeze. Not so much wind that it becomes hard or dangerous to navigate, but a small amount of wind that can fit in your cap.

Downeast
 — In New England, this doesn’t mean Southeast, as you might think. Due to the phrase’s nautical origins, the opposite is actually true! Prevailing winds along the coast of New England and Canada blow from the southwest. So a ship traveling Northeast would be said to be traveling downwind, or against the wind – thus the "down" and to the "east." By the same logic, sailors from Maine will often joke about going "up to Boston", a deliberately confusing term given the fact that Boston is at least 50 miles to the south.

Fair Water
 — An easygoing stretch with no foreseen obstacles, originating in a term for a patch of ocean that posed no navigational problems.

Gawmy — Klutzy and accident prone.

Get Your Bait Back — To catch just barely enough fish to cover the cost of your bait for the day. To “get your bait back” is to break even.

Jib — Maybe the Mariner term that has most entered mainstream vocabulary. The jib is the large triangular sail that sits forward on a boat. So the jib is the most obvious and dominant aspect of a ship. When someone says “I don’t like the cut of his jib,” they mean they didn’t like this poor fellow from the first moment they saw them.

Kill-devil
 — Alcohol, specifically rum. Originally, this refers to alcohol so potent that it could even kill the devil.

Longer Than a Hard Winte
r — Just about as long as it gets. If something has been going on for longer than a hard winter, then that’s a long time.

Mud Season — A secret fifth season that exists only in New England, fitting in right between winter and spring. When the snow has turned to mud, and Spring is still around the corner.

Nooning — Taking a lunch break. Intuitive when referring to a lunch eaten at 12:00, but more confusing at any other time of day. It would not be incorrect to say, for example, “We got hungry, so Bill and I took our nooning at 11:30 today.”

No-see-um — A straightforward name for the tiny biting insects that make life on the water a living hell all summer long.

Parceling — In nautical language, parceling is the process of preventing fraying ends of a rope by winding it with tape, canvas, or cord. This is a procedure done with extreme care and precision. So in speech, to “parcel” something is to do it carefully, taking pains to not make a mistake.

Right out straight — Very busy. As in, “I’ve been right out straight trying to find someone with a boat to take me fishing this weekend.”

Scrid — A tiny amount. If you’re too full for a full slice of pie, but you don’t want to be impolite, you might say “Oh I’ll have just a scrid, thanks.”

Spleeny — Overly cautious, a wimp. As in, “Don’t be so spleeny! Jump in, the water’s warm.”

Tunk — A light blow or hit. As in, “You’ve got to give that engine a tunk in order to get it going” (Alternatively, “You’ve got to tunk that engine in order to get it going.” An efficient word, “to tunk” can also mean the action of giving something a tunk.)

War bag — A Mariner term for a duffel bag. As in, “Pack your war bag, son, we’re going on a trip Downeast!”

It’s a drizzly day as I drive across the Queensboro Bridge to Sutton Place in Manhattan. I’m visiting Robert Rufino, a born-and-raised New Yorker and man about town who has had the kind of career that makes perfect sense in retrospect, but could hardly be planned in advance. As I walk into his foyer, the picture starts to come together. There are objects, paintings, furniture, and all manner of hints of a life well-lived.

QMS: We’re up here in Sutton Place, and I’m kicking myself for not having hung out around here before. It has a real old New York charm. I know you’re a native New Yorker who has stuck it out here for decades now. Tell me about growing up here. 

Robert Rufino: Well I actually grew up downtown, in Chinatown, which was a much different place than it is today, more like a village than anything. My father drove a taxi, and my mother ran a card shop. I went to a missionary school, and really had a great childhood. A little bit after going to FIT where I majored in window display and merchandising, l had the good fortune to start my career at Henri Bendel on 57th Street, which was quite extraordinary.

QMS: Wow, as I understand it, that was THE store of that time in New York. What did you learn while you were there?

Robert Rufino: It was a very special place, almost like a private club. And at that time window dressing was an art form – we called it street theater. Working at Bendel opened my eyes to a whole new world. Not only did I design the windows at Bendel’s, but I was in charge of store design and merchandising. Early on I knew I was dyslexic, and I had a talent for putting things together. My eyes and hands were my tools – whether I was designing a fashion window or a beautiful still life.

QMS: It sounds like you’ve always had a keen eye for style. How did that translate into your career post-Bendel’s?

Robert Rufino: Bendel’s being what it was, I was so entrenched in fashion that it was very normal for me to go on to work in fashion magazines. What started in retail led to me becoming a fashion editor for many years, at various magazines like Elle Fashion to The New York Times, Harper's Bazaar, and others. Eventually, I was Vice President of Worldwide Creative Services at Tiffany & Co. for 13 years.

QMS: Then you made a shift back to magazines. What prompted that?

Robert Rufino: I felt I had accomplished what I wanted at Tiffany’s and it was an honor to design windows for this landmark American brand. I wanted to return to the magazine world, but not fashion. I had the good fortune to work for Stephen Drucker at House Beautiful for about three years. From there, I went to Architectural Digest, Elle Decor back to House Beautiful, and now I work for myself, contributing to Frederic (put out by Schumacher) and do other projects for various magazines like Elle Decor, Town & Country and Veranda. I also consult certain brands.

QMS: You've described yourself as a producer. Can you elaborate on that role in the context of editorial work?

Robert Rufino: Yes, I do prefer the term “producer” over “stylist”. As an editor with my experience, producing a shoot is like being an Art Director. You set the stage for the photoshoot. It's a collaboration between you and the photographer, especially for magazines with a distinct voice. You have to master the process of working, of evolving an idea into reality. Whether you're designing a window or a dress, you have an idea, but you don't know how it's going to look until you start draping fabric or putting it together.

QMS: Let’s shift to your personal style for a moment. What specific moments or experiences influenced your approach to dressing?

Robert Rufino: The late '70s and early '80s in New York were influential. It was a time of individual expression. People dressed so individually; there was an explosion of personal style with figures like Steven Burrows, Stephen Sprouse, Halston, Perry Ellis. People wore what they wanted, unlike today, where it feels like everyone is wearing more of a uniform.

QMS: How did that era shape your personal style?

Robert Rufino: It's all about how you put things together. It’s the way you wear your hat. Real style is something you have within you, not a trend. It's about finding what makes you comfortable and being yourself. For example, I’ve always loved wearing blue, even now. When I was at Tiffany’s I used to wear a lot of beautiful deep blue suits, but now I’ll wear jeans and a blue shirt, and maybe a sport coat instead of the full suit but it's still clean and classic.

QMS: What music were you listening to back then? What was the soundtrack to that era for you?

Robert Rufino: I was a big Supremes fan! Also, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin… so many artists. Roberta Flack, Eddie Kendricks, Diana Ross. I was a total Motown boy! But I always kept a little room for the Stones, the Beatles, and Janice Joplin.

QMS: You have all these great cultural reference points that the new generation hasn’t lived through. I’m curious, what are your thoughts on the younger generation and their approach to creativity and style?

Robert Rufino: In a way, all these young people have access to even more cultural reference points than I did growing up because of the internet. But I think you lose something when everything is so readily available. We had to search for everything ourselves, not just find it on the internet or Instagram. You know, shopping online is different, people aren't really looking at what they're buying – the fabric, the fit, the whole retail experience, which is what I grew up with. Life was simpler for us. But I know creativity finds a way to thrive in every generation, so the kids will be all right.