10 Feb 2026
James Cameron hoists the colours at St Albans Cathedral for some sailors’ folk songs underneath the whales…
Fair play to those at the St Albans Abbey, having decided to stick some giant whales in their nave they have now scheduled a bunch of whale-adjacent activities to complement them.
Having unfortunately missed the talk on whales in medieval bestiaries I was able to get in on the sea shanty festival.
I was too old for the family shanties in the afternoon, but in the evening there was a special concert from the Kimber’s Men, as scurvy a gang of seadogs as ever danced the hornpipe or spliced a mainbrace.
First we had to gain admission to the Abbey. They weren’t quite running a tight ship at this stage. There was quite a wait in the cold, and when we were allowed in there were not enough chairs for the sizable crowd that had turned up and there was some frantic last minute re-arrangement, like the deck-chairs on the Titanic. In keeping with the nautical theme there were fish finger sandwiches for sale, but alas no rum.
The crowd, beyond its impressive size, was more mixed in age than other events I’ve seen at the Abbey, no doubt helped by the craze for sea shanties on social media a few years back. It’s fantastic that the Abbey can host such events, bringing a new crowd into the wonderful space and presumably defraying some of the prodigious running costs for the place.
One wonders, though, what medieval Abbots such as John de la Moote or William of Trumpington would think if they were magically resurrected and found such fishy business occurring in their Nave.
They might actually find it strangely familiar. I had thought of shanties before coming as quite akin to folk, but with their monophonic call and choral responses it reminded me in this setting of monkish plainsong.
Kimber’s Men were expert purveyors of the style. Neil Kimber had assembled a crack crew of three other men, each bringing a different pitch or style to proceedings.
Ship’s Cook John Bromley had a wonderful deep bass coming from a wonderfully wide belly (as he says, never trust a skinny chef). Sidekick Gareth Scott brought the most character to his songs whilst also rocking a distinctly un-nautical cardigan and alpine hat combination. New Boy Joe provided the highest range and was also the only member with a proper full sailor beard.
The songs were spread around very fairly between members, which gave a good range to proceedings. Most of all it was really nice to be able to give such focus to the male voice as an instrument, something you don’t get much of outside of BTS gigs.
The acoustics in the Abbey supported the harmonies superbly, as you would expect.
Kimber’s Men had sailed down from Yorkshire (possibly they came in a van), and their accents brought a deep poetry to the music. The lyrics were clear and you were drawn into their tales of luckless sailors and greedy whalers.
Whaling tunes made up quite a number of their repertoire, and it did slightly undermine the ecological message of the whale installation and even the singers felt a bit guilty with the giant sorrowful eyes of the beasts looking down on them.
There was a very welcome interval given the amount of grog consumed, but it did go on for a while to allow them to sell their CDs. They came back strong, with a tune with some expertly executed harmony changes that veered into African American spiritual territory.
Elsewhere songs had a folky or gospel tinge to them, and the subjects were equally varied. You felt like you were sailing out with them to destinations as diverse as the Ohio or the Antarctic.
Despite the wide-ranging songs and styles, I did find myself reaching my shanty limit. There was a fairly standard structure, and despite some enthusiastic acting out of some of the stories there was not much variety visually. It was a long show, and the Church chairs were rather unforgiving. Some songs had guitar accompaniment but there was a complete lack of percussion that could have put a bit more gust in the sails. Tapping on their guitars or a cajon could have replicated the pounding on the deck authentically.
What did come through powerfully was the emotional core of the songs. You really felt the undertow of sadness to the tales, the Sailor’s powerful longing for home and the cold and miserable conditions they had to put up with. Also, if you ever did find your mind wandering you could admire the delightful architecture of the Cathedral.
The band were very keen for us to join in on the choruses, which showed a touching and entirely misplaced faith in our ability to remember quite complex lyrics and tunes.
The youngsters in the audience were the most enthusiastic chorusers, probably due to their TikTok exposure. Who said social media wasn’t good for anything.
I did feel that if Kimber and his men were really that keen for us to get involved they could have thrown in a few more crowd-pleasers.
The only really well-known shanty that got an airing was ‘The Wellerman’, and they performed it with all the enthusiasm of a band obliged to bring out their one hit which they all feel they’ve outgrown.
This did mean that even the deepest shanty scholar would find something new and interesting, including some tunes that were penned by Kimber and Mrs Kimber. ‘Don’t Take the Heroes’ was a genuinely emotional tribute to the lifeboat crew who lost their lives in the Penlee disaster.
The affection between the band was also clear and heart-warming, with constant jibes and good-natured banter making you feel like you were part of the crew.
By the end, when they processed through the crowd whilst still singing ‘Leave Her, Johnny’, we were all Kimber’s People. A fantastic evening of naval-gazing, a great tie-in to the very impressive installation and zero risk of shipwreck.
Photos by Jimmy Aitken
