Another type of Ghost Ship is the Spirit Ship. Sailors from the West Indies in the 18th and 19th century, believed a ship that sank with no loss of life would invariably rise to the surface, endlessly searching for a crew to man her.
(x)
In order to prevent such phantom craft from terrorizing the living, Captains sometimes " failed" to rescue their entire crew in order that some could accompany the ship to her final resting place.
A Comparative Analysis of Hook's Ship and Cabin in Popular Media Portrayals
They say a man's home is his castle, and that is perhaps more true for Captain James Hook than most. Amid all the wildness and chaos of Neverland, the ship (and particularly the captain's cabin) is the one space where Hook exerts any real control over his environment, and upon close inspection, it reveals a great deal about who he is, what motivates him, his time period, and perhaps even whether or not any given "Hook" is intended to be "real" or a figure of the children's imagination. In this series of posts, I will be examining the Jolly Roger in five of the most well-known adaptations of Peter Pan: Disney's 1953 animated classic, Fox's Peter Pan & the Pirates (1990), Spielberg's Hook (1991), P.J. Hogan's Peter Pan (2003), and Disney's recent live-action remake, Peter Pan & Wendy (2023).
Part 1: Disney’s 1953 Animated Film
The Jolly Roger herself in the ‘53 film appears to be a Spanish galleon. This type of ship, though perhaps the “stereotypical” pirate ship that immediately comes to mind when we think of pirates in film, would have been highly impractical for any actual pirate. A good pirate ship needed to be sleek and fast, whereas galleons were great for carrying a lot of goods but unfortunately also very slow…and a large target for an enemy attack. Still, Hook has a tendency to prefer aesthetic beauty over function, so perhaps we can merely chalk this part up to the captain’s personal tastes.
On the other hand, Disney Hook has a ship that pretty blatantly screams “pirate” to anyone who might see it coming between the skull and crossbones you can see carved into the woodwork and the skull figurehead…which is definitely something that would seem more at home in a child’s imagined version of a pirate ship than any actual vessel.
For all the fancy, over-the-top outward style of the Jolly Roger in the ‘53 film, Hook’s cabin is surprisingly modest. His bed, which can be seen in the background during the “sick scene” post-Skull Rock, is the standard sort you might expect on a ship—a small bunk built into the side of the ship for practical reasons. There are, of course, chests of treasure (less practical/realistic) too, but aside from that, the cabin space seems nice but not excessive. We can see a sword lying against one of the treasure chests as well as a gun rack near the door over what looks like a large globe. (We see a closer, brighter version of this gun rack a few scenes later as the captain is switching out his usual hook for a golden one.)
There appear to be some nice silver plates in the background of the image with Smee, and there are a few other frivolities that Hook allows himself, such as the piano, a small table with fruit and wine set out, and several nice rugs on the cabin floor. But his desk appears to be rather small and simple, cluttered only with maps of Neverland, pens and an inkwell, some useful measuring tools, a few books, and what would appear to be a jeweled set of binoculars.
Overall, Disney’s Hook does a nice job of balancing the luxurious and fanciful with the more practical and mundane in his personal space. It might be a stretch to imagine this Jolly Roger in the real-life Golden Age of Piracy, but it’s not totally out of place. Thus, Disney’s Hook straddles that line between reality and fiction that leaves us wondering—as Wendy and her parents do at the end of the film as they watch a cloud formation that looks remarkably like a ship pass in front of the moon—whether it was all a dream or perhaps there is more to it.
The little fairy flutters up - oh so innocently - to perch upon the Captains knuckle as he works on one of his many charts.
She grants him her sweetest smile as his gaze meets her own…
If only he had a magnifying glass prosthetic in place of his dangerous hook. Perhaps he would have seen the mischievous glint sparkling in her golden flecked amber eyes.
*pinchy pinchy pinchity pinchy!!!* 🤏🏻🧚🏻✨
The surprise attack, sending him rocket, falling back into his chair as he tried to shake the fairy lose, only managing to fall onto the floor as he did.
"Quinnella!" he roared, rubbing the back of his head, "you incorrigible brat!"
"It is hard to stop in this world," he remarked, "always some terror to avoid, some darkness to hold at bay," he stood by her, admiring the void before them.
"When one is a child, one's world is small. The stars seem close. Immortal, like our parents and the adult world. Then we learn that even stars die. Nature gives, and takes. Once something immortal now becomes...eternal, in a cyclical fashion."
He lit his pipe, as much to steady his jitters as to give his hand something to do. Being careful to avoid blowing the smoke towards her, he remarked. "But to be honest...I hate cycles. I like things done, and done well, and then...just done. Coming back always feels like a cosmic slap to the face."
Bold of you to think I'm sleeping anytime soon , I'm fine .
He looked upon the gathered odds-and-ends that Quinnella had gathered. Part of him was amused by her fascination with such baubles - they could not shown with pride nor sold for greed, but she loved them for qualities that he could not see.
He gently took his index finger, running it along the back of her head down to her jawline in a careful motion, at once petting her and holding her chin up to him
"Tell me, what do you see in these things?" he asked, directly. "Is it for their potential, or something deeper I cannot scry?"