Far be it from me to contribute to the miscellaneous clutter of the musical sciences without sufficient cause. To that reason I shall attempt to justify the existence of this additional lyrical nook (or shrine to St. Cecilia, if you will). I offer my most sincere apologies should you find my explanation wanting, my information lacking, or my reasoning unsound (in other words that I haven't a sea leg to stand on); please, replace the hat upon your head and find some more appropriate past-time. If, on the other hand, you relish deliciously the contents herein, I extend my warmest welcome to you: my mark has hit its noble goal.

Firstly, dear reader, it is necessary that we are sharing a common definition for what is meant by an arm-chair mariner. My meaning is both abstract; referring to those starry eyed land-lubbers who yearn for the watery plains but for various issues find it impractical, be it funds, time, or an inclination towards sea-sickness; and concrete, indicating those who must settle for a simpler hydrous locomotion than ocean going vehicles; moving via paddle boat, dinghy, swimming pool raft, or a visit to the local beach. Far simpler is it to exclude those not sheltered by the umbrella of such a broad term; to whit, terra firma surface dwellers with no care for the sea, and --this ought to be obvious-- actual mariners.

Now, just as a wolf cub mimics her mother through play, we arm-chair mariners seek to emulate our conterparts as closely as possible. Rail road workers, farm hands, prison chain gangs, and circus tent constructors all have songs that lend to the natural rhythm of their toil. So too does the sailor, and this song is known as the Sea Chantey. Is it any wonder then, that the would-be sailor sings it also? Certainly not. There is nothing that can complete the mise-en-scene of our mind's eye quite as well as thematic music, whether we're surfing at the local swimming hole, or ruminating over a paper boat floating down a rain gutter.

Many instruments may come to mind as appropriate vessels for the melodies of a chantey. Among the obvious ones are the tin whistle, harmonica, banjo, and the concertina. Any instrument on hand played by a capable musician will do an amiable job and be enjoyed by all. However, the very use of the latter instrument casts one's mind toward the sea: the concertina. While many chanties were composed before its invention in 1829, it was an instrument in vogue during the height of the sailing profession. It conjures the image perfectly. Many etchings and charicatures of sea-going-folk will provide evidence of this.

There are, however, some obstacles in the use of a concertina for arm-chair folk. Aside from not being readily available, they are also quite expensive. Over $200 for a barely sufficient model, good models made with concertina reeds run well over $1000. I ask you this, would anyone who'd gone to the trouble to acquire a concertina, and learn to play it well, want to take it along on a sojourn down a creek in a canoe, or on a pond in a paddle boat? The answer is clearly and resoundingly "No". As Samuel Taylor Coleridge put it so well in The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner "...and a thousand, thousand slimy things lived on and so did I." No one should suffer a fine instrument such as that to be invaded by the slimy muck of a cess pool, where, if microbiologists are capable judges, there are many more times than a 1000 1000 slimy things. It is simply too precious and expensive to risk in a cavalier fashion.

What, then, should the budding chantey musician play? I present to you- the toy accordion. It resembles the concertina in several key respects, is readily available in shops, and is very affordable indeed. Quite on top of all that, it can play a mean chantey.

While the instruments themselves are common enough. Literature concerning them is deficient. The information gathered here is provided as an initial step toward a remedy.