In Bermuda, all it takes is one embarrassing encounter and you’re forever dubbed “Bong-Goat”.

But at least you’re not the guy called “Merry Mice”, “Belgium-Buck” or “Eagertoes”.

Dale Butler’s The Book of Bermuda Nicknames, celebrates this colourful part of our heritage.

“People said they couldn’t find me because I was a Mohawk Indian from St David’s,” recalled Frederick McCallan. “That’s why they called me ‘Indian’.”

Albert Dyer got the name “80-Fishcakes” after eating that many fishcakes after a golf tournament.

Ruth Cassidy was dubbed “Little Bit” because she weighed only 3 1/2lbs at birth.

“I started writing the book in 2009,” said Mr Butler. “I noticed that more and more people were including nicknames in obituaries. Some people are so well known by their nicknames that people wouldn’t know who was dead if the nickname wasn’t included.”

He signed the book with his own nicknames: “Fishcakes”, “Mayonnaise” and “Bong-Goat”.

“At three years old I was sent across the road to get some potatoes,” said Mr Butler, the author of 50 books. “When I went to the counter there was a goat bonging his head against the door. I started to cry and Sinclair O’Brien took me home. When my mother asked me what happened, I said, ‘Bong, bong, goat!’”

Mr McCallan praised him for preserving an important part of Bermuda’s heritage.

“A lot of the traditions of Bermuda and the culture has been destroyed,” he said. “When I was a child nobody knew what each other’s real names were; everyone had a nickname. There was ‘Pop’ Simmons and ‘John’ Mills — John wasn’t his real name. ‘Crazy Horse’ should be in the book. Nobody messed with ‘Crazy Horse’ down in St David’s. He didn’t care who you were, he’d fight you. I was once writing a book about Bermuda football teams. Every single player had a nickname. Maybe it was a tactic so that the opponent would not know to whom they were kicking the ball.”

He finally got help from Leroy “Lofty” Burns.

“He knew them all,” said Mr Butler.

The late Arthur “Weatherbird” Mills got his name because he’d sleep outside no matter what the weather.

“Once when asked about his home by a magistrate, he said he was like a bird flying from place to place looking for an ideal place to stay,” said Mr Butler. “The magistrate said: ‘So you are a weatherbird’. He said ‘Yes, and you know my whole family’.

“I used to sit with Weatherbird outside of my house and pet his 20-odd dogs. He rescued dogs that people had left at the dump. He was quite a character.”

His research turned up only a few women with nicknames, mainly they were given to men.

“Sometimes it was a term of endearment. Sometimes it is something that is repetitive. A guy who was always seen with one beer in his hand might be called One Beer.

“There was a guy called ‘Pineapple’ because his head was shaped like a pineapple; there was a guy called ‘Scientist’ because he was always trying to mix up some new type of alcoholic drink.”

Mr Butler started his search in 2009. He placed ads in The Royal Gazette and contacted schools and churches, asking for nicknames. And then he let work on the book slip.

In July, he made the decision to finally see the project through.

“I was cleaning out some things and came across my notes,” he said.

“I thought, ‘Should I throw this out or keep going with it?’ The book is selling extremely well. I had to replenish stocks in stores yesterday.”

•The Book of Bermuda Nicknames is available in bookstores for $20.