From Falmouth to Oostende: Shanty Festivals That Left a Mark on Us

Spend enough time knocking about the shanty scene and certain festivals start to leave more than just sore throats, tired feet, and a lingering smell of beer on your jacket. Some stay with you because of the crowds, some because of the places, and some because of the sort of glorious nonsense that only seems to happen once a few dozen shantymen are let loose in the same town.

This is not an exhaustive list of every event we’ve loved playing at. If we tried that, we’d still be here by next season. These are simply some of the festivals that have left a mark on us over the years, for all sorts of reasons. For us, the best weekends are not just about scale or a pretty harbour. They’re about energy, heart, and adventure: the kind of crowds that throw themselves into a chorus, the kind of hosts and towns that make you feel welcome, and the kind of moments where a packed pub transforms into a late-night shanty shout that no one wants to leave. From Falmouth to Oostende, these are a few of the places that have stayed with us long after the drive home.

Falmouth

If there’s one festival that feels impossible to ignore, it’s Falmouth. Widely billed as the largest free nautical music and song festival in Europe, it brings together massive crowds, singers from across the UK and beyond, and a town that doesn’t just host the festival but seems to throw its whole weight behind it. You don’t just play a venue in Falmouth, you feel as though the very granite of the quay is singing back at you.

That’s what makes it special. The scale is enormous, but it never feels hollow. There’s real buy-in there. The pubs are heaving, the streets are thrumming, and everywhere you turn, there’s another chorus rolling out across the harbour. We’ve met people there who’d already seen us in Gloucester and made a point of tracking us down again, and we’ve even had shanty fans hunt us out from as far afield as the US. Falmouth isn’t just a big festival. It’s one of those places where the sea music world feels gloriously, brilliantly vibrant.

We love getting a selfie with the audience, but only Richard seems to have arms long enough to get everyone in!

Harwich International Shanty Festival

Harwich always seems to greet us at full volume. We’ve had some stellar receptions there over the years, packing out pubs, piers, and even a Napoleonic fort with a crowd that’s always up for a sing, a shout, and a bit of glorious chaos. It’s loud, lively, and full of the kind of grit that makes a shanty festival feel authentic.

That’s what keeps Harwich lodged firmly in the memory. There’s no sense of people politely observing from a distance. They’re in it with you. And for Dave, our Essex lad, there’s something of a homecoming in it too, which gives the whole weekend a bit more heart. It also seems to be one of those places where we inevitably end up with The Silver Darlings, drink in hand, singing our way into the early hours. Harwich always feels like one of those festivals where we’re not just welcomed, but properly embraced.

Just out of frame are The Silver Darlings getting in a tray of Jager Bomb!

Oostende voor Anker

Oostende voor Anker will always stand out because it marked a real milestone: in 2025, it was our first performance outside the UK. That alone would have been enough to make it memorable, but the festival itself made sure it was much more than that. It’s a proper maritime festival, with more than 130 ships in port and a music programme packed with groups from across the scene, and the whole thing feels every bit as expansive as it sounds.

What really left a mark on us, though, was the welcome. Heading abroad for the first time as a band could easily have felt daunting, but Oostende voor Anker is so well organised, and its hosts made us feel so thoroughly looked after, that we settled in almost at once. There was a warmth to it that stayed with us long after we’d crossed back over the Channel. When you’re that far from home, that kind of hospitality means a great deal, and it’s a big part of why we’re so pleased to be heading back in 2026.

The stage at Oostende was made for leaping off, something Alfie and Matt took full advantage of!

Port Isaac

Port Isaac is one of those places that feels half-mythical before you’ve even sung a note. It’s the home of the Fisherman’s Friends, who, with two films under their belt, have done more to convince my gran to listen to sea shanties than anyone else.

With all that star-studded Doc Martin appeal, it draws plenty of people who might not know their capstan from their halyard but do know they’re in for a cracking day by the sea. And to be fair, the place delivers: a beautiful Cornish harbour, packed pubs, and the chance to sing in spots like The Golden Lion, with the whole place steeped in shanty history.

Then night falls, and the beer tent stops pretending to be civilised. What begins as a picture-postcard Cornish festival has a habit of ending in glorious chaos, with big choruses, bigger personalities, and an atmosphere where even turning the lights off to get rid of people doesn’t always do the trick. Port Isaac left us with some mad memories, including one involving Alfie that is probably best told in full in Tales from the Tour.

This image was taken moments before Alfie was propositioned…

The Real Ale and Sea Shanty Festival & The Bristol Sea Shanty Shout

What we really love is that Bristol gives us two very different flavours of festival. The Real Ale and Sea Shanty Festival crams everything into the Freemasons’ Hall, with songs bouncing between rooms and a grand excuse to work steadily through an excellent spread of beer. The Bristol Sea Shanty Shout, by contrast, feels more like a classic shanty weekender, spilling out across the city and making full use of iconic venues like Underfall Yard and the SS Great Britain. Put the two together, and Bristol offers something rare: not just one cracking festival, but two distinct ways to enjoy the city’s maritime scene.

And Bristol itself is a big part of why those weekends stay with us. It feels like a city after our own hearts: cool and modern, but still proudly stitched into its seafaring past. Over the years, it has also become a place tied up with friendship, thanks to good people like the Port of Bristol Shanty Crew and The Jolly Grogsters. That gives every trip there a bit more heart. Bristol never feels like just another stop on the map, but somewhere we’re always glad to return to.

St Ives Shanty Shout

St Ives always feels like the shantyman’s shanty festival. Landing in late November, it has that slightly sentimental energy of crews gathering for one last proper blow-out before the year winds down. There’s something about it that feels a bit more old-school, too. It really is about crews piling into a pub and raising the roof in a proper old-fashioned shanty shout.

That’s a big part of why it sticks in the mind. By the time St Ives rolls around, everyone’s had a long season, but that only seems to make the singing louder and the atmosphere warmer. The only drawback is that, for reasons known only to the weather gods, we’ve yet to make it there without being thoroughly rained on. Still, if a bit of rain were enough to stop shantymen singing, half the tradition would never have happened.

At Bier Huis Grand Café, StIves, the good times only stop when last orders are called!

Special Mention: Teign Maritime & Shanty Festival

Teign will always mean something special to us, not just because it was our first festival, but because it felt like a proper one. Spread across Teignmouth and Shaldon, it had real character: great venues, a lovely setting, and the sense that the whole thing belonged to the two towns. Our first time singing in public, as The Rusty Tubs, was there on a boat crossing between Teignmouth and Shaldon, which feels wonderfully fitting looking back on it now.

Some of our fondest memories of festival life came from Teign. One year, the after-party for the groups was held in an old theatre, and there must have been nearly a hundred singers all raising their voices together. It was one of those moments that remind you what this scene is really about.

Sadly, the festival didn’t happen in 2025, and its future still seems uncertain. That’s part of the story with festivals like these: some grow, some fade away. But even when they go, what they gave people stays. Teign gave us our first taste of festival life as The Rusty Tubs, and those memories will stay with us for as long as we’re singing. And if it ever rises again, you can be quite sure we’ll be there to sing our heads off.