Hey, ha, pour in! Hey, ha lift up the goblets! It will do perfectly for marine tales. After all, for sea stories to exist, there must be rum and wind in the sails. The first one will never be missing on a decent ship, but it can be different with the second one. Here are some nautical ways to invoke a specific blast.
Nowadays it is easier, because almost all ships sailing on the high seas have propulsion independent of the force of the wind. Things were different for the past few years. Sometimes the ship drifted for weeks in complete silence. The worst thing was when it was a return cruise - the seamen were mercilessly long at sea, and their hearts went to the dry land, straight to the port tavern or into the arms of a longing beloved.
During too long a silence, the captain and crew began to take - to put it bluntly - damn. With each day of delay, the profit from the voyage and the provisions of food decreased, and morale was going head and shoulders. To avert the crisis, the captain began to perform seafaring "magic". We can, of course, learn from the recollections of the sailors themselves how exactly this happened. An example of such stories about life on a ship is the book "Sea Devil. The Adventures of My Life ”by Felix von Luckner, originally published in Leipzig (1921), and some time ago translated into Polish. The author of the memoirs, who has gone through all the steps of a sailing career, from the shovel scrubbing the outhouse to the captain of the sailing ship, cites a whole lot of anecdotes that can cause a lot of amusement in land rats.
Hocus-pocus on the high seas
Felix von Luckner himself.
Do you know the story about Jonah? With what did the wrath of the Lord bring upon the ship, and made the sea rage through him? The sailors cut him overboard and the problem was over (and the hapless prophet landed at the bottom of a whale's belly). Fortunately, the nineteenth century was a bit more humane in this regard and "Jonah" did not land in the water.
When there was silence at sea for several days, the search for a biblical equivalent of Jonah on board the ship began. The perpetrator of misfortunes was indeed distorted. Most often it was the helmsman - because, as you know, the helmsman chases the wind away . The captain pointed out to the man standing at the helm everything that only saliva would bring on his tongue, and he was convinced that as long as this gentleman held the wheel, the wind would not come. Once the captain's anger was discharged, you had to think:what next?
Finally, the captain takes off his cap, steps on it in anger and sometimes whistles in desperation. It is strictly forbidden on board a sailing ship as it means summoning a storm. Then he calls the ship's boy and tells him to scratch the mast, because it also favors the onset of the wind. And when the silence continues, he tosses the cabin driver onto the deck, then sticks a broom into his hand, ordering him to settle on the top of the mast and sweep the sky. In the end, he takes his old pants or an old shoe himself and throws it overboard. Then the captain sits down in his cabin for a moment, hoping it will finally start blowing.
It cannot be denied that these very interesting and highly "scientific" methods of summoning the wind sometimes proved to be of no use, and in the end ... 
The article is based on Luckner's memoirs published in 2009 by Finna.
Well, as the captain left his cabin and there was still a damned silence out there, the thunder fell again on the gentleman at the helm. The angry captain chased away the crooked smiling "Jonah" and put someone else in his place. In Felix von Luckner's story, the "delegate" was replaced by a sailor named Jan. The captain addressed the newly appointed helmsman with these words: Come on Jan, you are a decent peasant, make sure that the wind comes, you have a good deal with Saint Peter. As you can easily guess, the captain grew impatient and paced the deck until he felt a gentle breeze. In the end, Jan got half a pound of tobacco for "bringing in the wind" (which is roughly a quarter of a kilogram).
It is impossible to say what influence the seafaring spells summoning the wind had on the weather. One thing is known - the sailors believed in their effectiveness, which raised their morale. Luckner writes about it in his memoirs without a hint of irony, which means that he either believed in these rites or respected the faith of his colleagues. By the way, I wonder what this enchantment looked like on the decks of other ships? For example Polish?
Sources:
Felix von Luckner, Sea Devil. The adventures of my life , Finna, Gdańsk 2009 (see the book on the publisher's website).