Two men walk into a bar – no, this isn’t the lead-in to a joke. It’s the story of how the Walking Tree Men’s Choir came to be, when Charlie Quesenberry and Mike Malone walked into a downtown Vero bar.
Quesenberry was enjoying a flight of beer during the Kilted Mermaid Beer School last summer when, between discussions about the different beers being sampled, he overheard a conversation at the other end of the table that perked up more than the foam on his beer.
It was something about sea shanties.
Given the setting, it wasn’t much of a surprise for the discussion to have turned to the rather arcane subject of maritime work songs. They were, after all, sitting in a neighborhood bar where kilts and mermaids are commonplace, and an eclectic mix of music is served up on a daily basis.
“I almost dropped my glass when I heard a fellow at the other end of the table say, ‘I just love sea shanties,’ ” recalls Quesenberry. “I said, excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation but did you just say what I think you said?”
The man at the other end of the table was Malone, then working on opening the Walking Tree Brewery near the airport. And yes, he does love sea shanties. “We got to talking, and Mike said he would like to get a group of guys together once his brewery was open.”
In addition to drinking and singing, Malone also likes playing rugby. It was the camaraderie of post-game rugby socials that first attracted Malone to these group sing-alongs. “After a game, the guys would get together and sing. It was a really good time. I’ve talked about putting together a sea shanty choir for years. When we had the brewery up and running, I was finally able to follow through,” says Malone.
Malone had talked to Kilted Mermaid co-owner Rick Norry about creating a sea shanty choir in the past. “When Mike was ready to do it, I thought it sounded like something I wanted to get involved with. It’s great traditional drinking music,” adds Norry.
True to his word, they held their first sea shanty sing-along at the Walking Tree Brewery about three months ago, and the group of men who show up to belt out a tune has more than doubled in size since that first gathering.
There’s a core group of six to eight repeat singers with new men showing up each month. No prior experience is necessary. They only ask that participants listen to some of the shanties ahead of time to familiarize themselves with the words.
“Don’t worry, we pass out song sheets, so they don’t have to know what the lyrics are until they sit down with them and sing along,” explains Norry.
“It’s fun. It’s a good outlet for folks,” says Quesenberry. “Every other beer is free, and after about an hour the voices get a little louder. It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there. But there’s no wrong or right way; we’re here to enjoy the experience.”
Norry and Quesenberry bring with them a musical background. Norry performs Irish drinking songs and Irish punk with a band called Rowan’s Rebels; Quesenberry is part of the Kindred Kilts, a trio that plays Celtic and maritime music.
Malone’s partner in Walking Tree, Alan Dritenbas, has been impressed by how much the men have improved in such a short time. “As the guys get to know the songs, they’re more comfortable. That’s when you start to have a lot of fun when you’re looking at each other and not the piece of paper.”
Perhaps more surprising is the fact that sea shanties haven’t been a bigger part of the local music scene in the past. After all, Indian River County is home to Sebastian, one of the few remaining fishing villages in Florida today.
Shanties are work songs that were used to coordinate sailor’s rhythms as they hauled in lines and did other tasks when men and wind were the only sources of power on ships.
From the 1500’s through the late 1800’s, the shanties were a very big motivator. The songs helped alleviate boredom and create a sense of unity on long journeys.
A shantyman would sing out a line, and the chorus of sailors would call back a response. The rhythm of the song helped to synchronize the sailor’s movements as they performed repetitive tasks.
While there is some debate over the origin of sea shanties, the use of chants to coordinate work efforts has been chronicled over the ages. One of the earliest mentions in literature was made in G. E. Clark’s “Seven Years of a Sailor’s Life,” published in 1867.
Shanties varied based on the type of work that needed to be done on ships and was also used for rowing, fire stoking, corn shucking and much more.
“Those guys were out on ships for many, many months,” says Dritenbas. “Our biggest worry is which songs to sing and whether or not to bring our own pewter mug.”
“Rolling Down to Old Maui,” “Blow the Man Down” and “Haul Away Joe” are a few well-known shanties. The songs were passed down by word of mouth as young sailors joined the crew. This rich cultural tradition was nearly lost with progress. Fortunately, the noted collector of folk songs, Cecil Sharp, began to put the shanties on paper in the early 1900s.
The men are enjoying themselves so much they are hoping to develop a subgroup that will take their show on the road and perform at pirate and seafood festivals in the area.
There has been a great diversity in the age of the men showing up. “Music is a great equalizer for people whether you are good at it or not,” says Quesenberry. “It’s like Vero Beach in a lot of ways. It’s not necessarily new, but it’s unique.”
The men gather the first Monday of the month at 6 p.m., and the singing begins at 7 p.m. All are welcome to sing along or just enjoy the performance. Don’t be surprised if you can’t help joining in; the songs are contagious.
For more information, visit the Walking Tree Men’s Choir on Facebook.
