One of the most intriguing aspects of maritime history is the considerable variety of names which were given to vessels by their owners. Vessels were, as explained earlier, identified by their names, followed by the surname of the master and the port ‘belonging’. The last part, before the registration of shipping became universal, could seem an arbitrary concept, especially as it might well be wrongly recorded by the official at a port where a vessel had called. Variations in spelling had much to do with the way in which the names of ports might be recorded. Bridlington, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, often appears as ‘Burlington’, even in the records of neighbouring ports. Brightlingsea, in Essex, was easily confused with ‘Brighthelmstone’, or Brighton, in Sussex. The spelling of surnames was not finally stabilised until universal education arrived in 1870. Regional accents probably added to the confusion.

Even so, given a large enough sample from which to extrapolate, it is possible to discern the ways in which names were chosen. Given that they were probably carved into either the stem or the stern of even quite small vessels, they were probably less likely to be mis-spelt than the names of either masters or ports.

Many vessels were simply given personal names, possibly of the managing owner or a member of his family. These were often ‘homely’ names, diminutives or pet names of children. Some of course, were more dignified, indicative of the owner's status, at least in his own eyes. Nancy, a frequent choice over many decades, somehow seems more affectionate than Harrison Chilton, named after the early nineteenth-century owner. Brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, wives and parents were all commemorated. Sometimes the difficult business of choosing between siblings was solved by group names, like that of Three Sisters. Double names, adding William to Jane, as in the early eighteenth century, were common.

Places were also used, adding to confusion in documents. Whitby appears several times as a vessel's name in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. So too do topographical names, such as Esk, from the river whose estuary was so important to the town. Indications of a classical education might spur new owners to call their vessels by names such as Dryad, Nymph or Boreas.