July 1998
Ralph Roberts and Cedric Clarke (W9885 - Spree Lady)
with Bob and Clare Harland (W9933 - Sea Rocket)
Part 3 of a Log
written and illustrated by Ralph Roberts
We woke next morning,
refreshed
after a good night’s sleep, and got up to make an early start. There
was no
sign of Bob and Clare, so we were sure they had found a convenient stop
for the
night elsewhere. The yacht moored next to us appeared to be empty, so
we used
it to hang out our sailing gear to dry.
Gerhard Becher and his crew on their yacht Dolphin, moored adjacent to us.
Still with our offshore gear and various items of clothing spread out over his boat to dry!
Making the final preparations aboard Spree Lady for our departure to Esbjerg.
Cedric standing on the jetty with the spinnaker pole. Photo taken by the crew of the yacht Dolphin.
We were taken by
surprise a little
while later when the crew emerged form the hatchway. We immediately
apologised
for draping our clothes over every convenient rail on their yacht, but
they
didn't mind at all, and invited us aboard to share a coffee as they
were most
interested in our venture. Their hospitality couldn’t have been
greater, and it
was difficult to make excuses to leave, but we needed to finish packing
the
boat and get away on the last of the ebb. We finally exchanged
addresses and
made a hasty exit from the cabin.
Stopped in the shallow channel on the fast receding tide, with Cedric looking north to the island of Borkum.
My wet sailing gear has been hung up to dry in the sun, after getting a foot stuck in the mud and falling in the water!
The
harbourmaster gave Cedric a forecast of fine weather for the next few
days,
with a southwesterly breeze, F.3 to 4. It looked as though favourable
winds
would be with us for the last and longest leg of our trip. It seemed
almost too
good to be true - and it was!
The harbourmaster had also mentioned that there was a
channel around the back of Borkum deep enough for our shallow draft
boat to use
to get out to sea, thereby shortening our journey a little.
Unfortunately we
hadn't gone a mile or so before the channel became so shallow in the
dropping
tide, that it was impossible to go further (photo above). We turned round and
pulled the boat
back through the ever receding water in the channel, and were
eventually able
to use the outboard to motor sail past the marina we had left an hour
and a
half earlier.
Sailing
out to sea past the most popular beach on Borkum, where many holiday
makers were taking advantage
of the fine sunny weather. The fine sandy beach continued as a shallow spit for more than a mile out to sea.
of the fine sunny weather. The fine sandy beach continued as a shallow spit for more than a mile out to sea.
We then
had to fight our way out of the
By 1550
we had passed the Juister Riff N. cardinal mark, which confirmed our
position,
as well as the GPS reading of an average speed of 4 knots. With a
steady wind,
and the sea still relatively calm, we decided to try all three sails by
putting
up the asymmetric spinnaker as well. This gave us the best sail of the
whole
trip, and at one point we seemed to be planing along with the crest of
a small
wave for nearly a full minute - planing is always the most exhilarating
part of
any sail, but this one continued for far longer than I had ever
experienced
either previously, or since. Our speed improved to 5 knots, so that an
hour later,
we had covered the 5 n.m. to the TG7 cardinal
buoy, marking the start of the shipping lane.
Passing a fishing
vessel near the first shipping lane,
with the weather starting to
deteriorate, and the sea beginning to get up.
Whilst it might
be thought that needing to change course to avoid shipping might be a relatively
isolated occurrence, it has happened on each of my North Sea
Wayfarer trips so far (five to date). On our first trip
to Ostend in a Wayfarer, we were escorted by two cruisers, who decided
we should
hold our course when a ship was seen in the distance. We had no option
but to stay with them. It was the
most frightening experience of my life as the ship sailed towards us,
particularly as we were the
nearest to the ship’s approach! There was a period of many minutes when
it seemed certain the ship
would run us all down, though it did eventually pass comfortably behind
us. I
determined then, never to sail in front of any ship again, if there was
any doubt, and to always go
behind.
WEATHER FORECASTS
We carried a
small radio to receive the BBC shipping forecast, but generally relied
upon local sources - particularly the harbour master or information
office when staying in yacht harbours or marinas. In this instance, the
local forecast had been seriously inaccurate and we should not have
missed the BBC shipping forecast for such a major trip.
There was no doubt that the conditions out at sea in the German Bight that night were severe, though because of the complete darkness, it was impossible to judge just how strong the winds were. Whilst I never considered that we were in any great danger, I certainly wouldn’t have ventured out of the harbour, had I known that gale force winds were imminent.
It was only when we received a letter from the skipper of the yacht we had met in Borkum Marina that we fully appreciated just how bad the conditions had been during the night. He reported that the wind had been so strong, that coupled with the noise of torrential rain, it had been impossible for them to sleep on their boat, moored safely in the marina!
.There was no doubt that the conditions out at sea in the German Bight that night were severe, though because of the complete darkness, it was impossible to judge just how strong the winds were. Whilst I never considered that we were in any great danger, I certainly wouldn’t have ventured out of the harbour, had I known that gale force winds were imminent.
It was only when we received a letter from the skipper of the yacht we had met in Borkum Marina that we fully appreciated just how bad the conditions had been during the night. He reported that the wind had been so strong, that coupled with the noise of torrential rain, it had been impossible for them to sleep on their boat, moored safely in the marina!
It was at
this point that our earlier hopes of an easy sail to Esbjerg
At 1920, I got the
chart out in the evening drizzle to check on the
second shipping lane. With a further 18 n.m. to go, I calculated it
would take
another 3 to 4 hours, and would certainly be dark before we had
finished
crossing the lane. However, we had no option but to press on. The wind
gradually
increased until we needed to reef the main. I used the spinnaker pole
to push
out the genoa on the other side, and we creamed along at 6 to 7 knots
(from to the
GPS reading). We were most conscious of safety however, and made sure
we always
felt in full control of the boat.
Around 2130, we
approached the second
shipping lane. By now, the wind and sea had increased sufficiently for
it be prudent
to reduce sail again. I furled the genoa and sailed on reefed main
only, to give
us better manoeuverability in the event of meeting any ships ahead. As we had entered the
lane, there
had
been just sufficient light to scan the horizon to
be sure there were no ships ahead. We presumed that this lane was for
deeper draught vessels and therefore less busy. It was with some relief
that we
saw the lights of only one vessel in the distance behind us whilst
crossing
this shipping lane. The wind had remained steady during the crossing,
but after
taking another GPS reading to confirm that we were out of the shipping
lane, it increased considerably again, perhaps to F.7 or more. It's
difficult to tell
when it's too dark to see anything! For safety, I decided to take the
reefed main down and
sail under jib only during the night. Cedric was happy for me to
take the first rest, even though he had been on the helm for much of
the day.
...
An hour later, at 0030,
Cedric woke me for my turn at the helm. It was
not only raining heavily again, but from the howl of the wind through
the rigging, it was obvious that its strength had
increased to a full gale. It had become quite
cold, so we were both thankful we had on plenty of thermal layers to
keep us
warm. I immediately became rather concerned about a constant, quick
flashing
white light, appearing to be in the near distance to the east. In the
appalling
conditions and rather tired state, I didn't feel at all like getting
out the
GPS, almanac and chart to check what it might be. After keeping a close
watch
on the light's unchanging position for some 30 minutes, I decided to
change the
jib onto the other tack, and steer a more northerly course to give us
plenty of
sea room. It seemed wise to assume the light represented danger, and to
steer
away from it for safety. (I have since learned that it was almost
certainly a
submarine on the surface - not a primary teaching point on navigation
courses)!
Once we had changed our
course, it was reassuring to find the light disappearing
into the distance. By 0215, Cedric had woken, and taken over the helm
again.
The driving rain had stopped and I took this opportunity to get another
GPS
reading to plot on the chart. This confirmed our position as being on
course.
Satisfied that everything was O.K, I settled down on the floor with my
back
leaning against the foredeck for another nap. I was awoken abruptly an
hour
later by a wave breaking over the boat which completely drenched me. It
certainly wasn’t the most pleasant way to be woken for my turn on the
helm
again, with water pouring down my neck and front, but very effective. I
was now both wet and cold, and had no further inclination to sleep
whatsoever! Fortunately,
the World design performed
brilliantly in this situation, with a boat-full of
water draining through the transom flaps in just a few minutes. It
was a relief that we had been sailing on jib only, for capsizing at
night
didn’t really bear thinking about. We had both been wearing harnesses,
and
everything in the boat had been secured with a line. We should have
been able
to right it again without any great difficulty, even in the darkness
and very
rough seas. But even so, it would have made the remainder of the trip
extremely
unpleasant.
At 0520, with the morning light clearing away the last remnants of darkness, I took another GPS reading and noted it on the chart. The wind had abated, and the sea calmed down just a little, so we decided to put up the reefed main. Whilst standing to do so, a wave lifted the front of the boat, causing me to fall backwards awkwardly and smash the back of my head against the end of the tiller. Thankfully I was wearing my canoe crash hat, though I still felt much of the impact through it. If I hadn’t been wearing the crash hat, I would have suffered an extremely serious - perhaps even fatal - injury. This was not my opinion, but that of Cedric, who is also a G.P.
At 0520, with the morning light clearing away the last remnants of darkness, I took another GPS reading and noted it on the chart. The wind had abated, and the sea calmed down just a little, so we decided to put up the reefed main. Whilst standing to do so, a wave lifted the front of the boat, causing me to fall backwards awkwardly and smash the back of my head against the end of the tiller. Thankfully I was wearing my canoe crash hat, though I still felt much of the impact through it. If I hadn’t been wearing the crash hat, I would have suffered an extremely serious - perhaps even fatal - injury. This was not my opinion, but that of Cedric, who is also a G.P.
The very early dawn, with the sun emerging on the distant horizon and providing me
with some welcome warmth on the final day of our eventful crossing to Esbjerg.
An hour or so later the
sun made a most welcome appearance on the horizon, and for the first
time since getting drenched by the wave earlier in the night, I began
to feel some warmth seeping through my body. This made life much more
comfortable, for although I had put on extra clothing to prevent myself
becoming hypothermic after my soaking, this had not seemed to increase
my body temperature much. The wind gradually strengthened as the
morning wore on, so that by 0800, we were "motoring" along on a broad
reach with a reefed main and jib, in seas that were once
again becoming quite big. The GPS gave us
readings
of up to 8 knots, when we were planing down waves, and generally
indicated an average
speed of 6 knots, though at this point,
we both still felt we were sailing well within a comfortable safety
factor and in full control of the boat.
Half an hour later, we were getting near to the point of being overpowered for an open sea cruise, and we discussed whether it would be prudent to take down the main. Cedric may well have been distracted by our discussion, because almost immediately, Spree Lady broached. We were only just able to prevent a capsize, as water poured in over one side. Once we were back upright, I wasted no time taking down the reefed main. It was to be the last time, we would have the main up until we reached Esbjerg. I changed the jib over to the genoa, which I pushed out with the spinnaker pole, and checked our speed on the GPS, which still showed we were making 5 to 6 knots.
Half an hour later, we were getting near to the point of being overpowered for an open sea cruise, and we discussed whether it would be prudent to take down the main. Cedric may well have been distracted by our discussion, because almost immediately, Spree Lady broached. We were only just able to prevent a capsize, as water poured in over one side. Once we were back upright, I wasted no time taking down the reefed main. It was to be the last time, we would have the main up until we reached Esbjerg. I changed the jib over to the genoa, which I pushed out with the spinnaker pole, and checked our speed on the GPS, which still showed we were making 5 to 6 knots.
This was the start of the big seas we were to encounter on the final leg of our trip to Esbjerg.
Standing up to take the photo would have given a better perspective of the two sets of waves in the picture - sitting down to take it was a lot safer! The end of the tiller that made contact with my head is visible in the bottom right corner.
Cedric planing down the face of the wave behind - which was much larger than it looks from the photo! The track of the boat is marked by the dark, flat water, with the foam being scattered on either side. Still with the reefed mainsail up at this point.
By 0900 we could see
the long coastline of the island of Westerland. It was certainly most
reassuring to be in sight of land again, but we were less happy at
seeing the changing cloud formations above us, which gave an indication
that further bad weather was on its way. We decided to steer a course
that put us a little closer to land, so that if we couldn’t reach
Esbjerg by 1800, then a nearer port or safe haven would be sought. I
took another GPS reading and calculated that if we continued at our
present speed, we should be able to make Esbjerg before our proposed
deadline.
This series of photos, taken during the day, illustrate how the conditions deteriorated,
with big seas and the dark threatening clouds building in the sky.
As the waves weren’t actually breaking, we were able to ride over them with ease
and they gave us no real cause for concern.
The waves were the biggest I have ever
experienced. I estimated them - hopefully without any
exaggeration - to be around 30 to 40 ft from trough to peak.
exaggeration - to be around 30 to 40 ft from trough to peak.
When I checked the GPS
again at 1000, it came up with the information that the satellite
receiver had failed! I was relieved that I had been plotting the
previous GPS positions on the chart, but had now got so used to relying
on the device for our position, that I was almost aghast at the
prospect of having to go back to the dead reckoning system I had used
on previous trips.
At midday I tried the GPS again, which this time came up with a bearing, much to my relief. The wind had increased in strength, probably to F.8 or more - it was difficult to judge in such strong winds and big seas. It certainly seemed far wilder than a previous F.8 I had sailed in, though this may well have been due to being out in such exposed conditions, rather than the wind strength.
It seemed prudent to change the genoa down to a jib. Although the seas were the biggest I have ever experienced in a Wayfarer, the sailing was surprisingly comfortable, and we never felt in any sort of danger. Had the wind increased still further, I was confident that we could have furled the wet jib down to only a ‘pocket handkerchief’ size, and run to a port of safety, only 10 n.m. to the east of us
At midday I tried the GPS again, which this time came up with a bearing, much to my relief. The wind had increased in strength, probably to F.8 or more - it was difficult to judge in such strong winds and big seas. It certainly seemed far wilder than a previous F.8 I had sailed in, though this may well have been due to being out in such exposed conditions, rather than the wind strength.
It seemed prudent to change the genoa down to a jib. Although the seas were the biggest I have ever experienced in a Wayfarer, the sailing was surprisingly comfortable, and we never felt in any sort of danger. Had the wind increased still further, I was confident that we could have furled the wet jib down to only a ‘pocket handkerchief’ size, and run to a port of safety, only 10 n.m. to the east of us
Cedric settled down for
a sleep, having been on the helm for most of the morning. He awoke an
hour later - probably more through discomfort than anything else - and
looked around to see the tall white chimney at Esbjerg in the distance.
I hadn’t noticed it myself, being more concerned with helming through
the waves and reading the compass bearing, but we were stirred with a
great feeling of elation at the sight of our destination, albeit there
were still another 20 n.m. to go.
Esbjerg's distinctive industrial chimney landmark was visible from over 20 n.m. off the coast.
There was little
opportunity, or apparent need to take another bearing for the next few
hours as we surfed along towards Esbjerg. The speed of around 6 knots
under jib only was quite amazing. It was only as we approached a
landfall off the island of Fanø that I appreciated that getting
nearer the coast as a useful insurance against the weather
deteriorating would now be to our disadvantage.
The strong onshore winds had created an area of turbulent water far further out from the shallows off Fanø than I had expected from my large scale chart. I altered course to get as far to seaward as possible of the rough water ahead, but with only the jib up, it was too late to avoid it altogether. For the next 15 minutes or so, Spree Lady was tossed about in the short steep waves like an item of clothing in a washing machine. We were more than a little relieved to reach the safety of the deep water channel into Esbjerg. Approaching the end of the channel, between Fanø and the mainland, we turned north to make for the Ho Bugt Sailing Club, where one of my Danish Wayfarer friends, Jens Konge Rasmussen had recommended we land.
The strong onshore winds had created an area of turbulent water far further out from the shallows off Fanø than I had expected from my large scale chart. I altered course to get as far to seaward as possible of the rough water ahead, but with only the jib up, it was too late to avoid it altogether. For the next 15 minutes or so, Spree Lady was tossed about in the short steep waves like an item of clothing in a washing machine. We were more than a little relieved to reach the safety of the deep water channel into Esbjerg. Approaching the end of the channel, between Fanø and the mainland, we turned north to make for the Ho Bugt Sailing Club, where one of my Danish Wayfarer friends, Jens Konge Rasmussen had recommended we land.
Approaching the Ho Bugt Sailing Club to the north of Esbjerg, which has its own large fleet of Wayfarers.
The asymmetric pole is still out the front of the boat,
unable to be pulled back through all the gear stored under the foredeck.
We finally reached the Club slipway at
1740, just 20 minutes before our target time of 1800, and only 4 hours before yet another
severe gale blew through. Next morning it was still blowing far more ferociously than we had
experienced the previous day, and looking out at the waves crashing onto the sandbank just
offshore, we were certainly grateful to be safe on land, and not
out at sea.
There had been little chance to celebrate the success of our trip the previous evening, but during the next morning there had been more time to contemplate our achievement. We had covered the 140 n.m. from Borkum in 28 hours at an average speed of 5 knots, mostly under jib or genoa only. We had arrived somewhat tired, hungry, wet, bumsore, and with my fingers swollen from salt water getting into cuts and grazes. But we had made it, and the exhilaration of completing the trip more than made up for the various discomforts.
out at sea.
There had been little chance to celebrate the success of our trip the previous evening, but during the next morning there had been more time to contemplate our achievement. We had covered the 140 n.m. from Borkum in 28 hours at an average speed of 5 knots, mostly under jib or genoa only. We had arrived somewhat tired, hungry, wet, bumsore, and with my fingers swollen from salt water getting into cuts and grazes. But we had made it, and the exhilaration of completing the trip more than made up for the various discomforts.
Spree Lady lying at anchor, with all our gear
removed, before we used a spare trolley at the Club to bring her
ashore.
The threatening black skies warn of the severe gale about to blow through.
...The threatening black skies warn of the severe gale about to blow through.
1. Though we
sought the Borkum harbourmaster’s local knowledge and advice, I should
not have tried to get round the southern end of Borkum at low tide.
Even if it had proved feasible, the short amount of time it would have
saved was never worth the chance of failing.
2. I should have involved Cedric much more with the navigation and passage planning for this part of the trip, rather than taking sole responsibility. Had I not been wearing a canoe crash hat when I fell backwards, my injuries would have resulted at the very least, in a severe concussion. It is certain that I would have been totally incapable of assisting Cedric, who had no navigation experience, in a totally unknown and hostile environment.
3. I had purchased six Admiralty charts, both large and small scale to cover the areas I planned to sail, giving sufficient detail to cover possible safe havens should this become necessary. The only area I didn’t have in detail was the approach into Esbjerg, the detailed coastal chart of this region finishing just a few degrees below the port. In an effort to economise, I relied on my large scale chart for entry into Esbjerg, together with detailed sketches of the estuary sent to me by my Danish colleague. Trying to save a few pounds proved a false economy, and meant that my approach to Esbjerg was closer to the island of Fanø than would probably have been the case had I had a more detailed chart. This resulted in a much rougher and potentially dangerous finish to our passage.
4. I should have purchased a radio with built in tape recorder to ensure I didn’t miss the BBC shipping forecasts, rather than relying solely on being provided with weather forecasts from local sources. I would certainly not have set out from Borkum had I known we would encounter such extreme conditions.
...2. I should have involved Cedric much more with the navigation and passage planning for this part of the trip, rather than taking sole responsibility. Had I not been wearing a canoe crash hat when I fell backwards, my injuries would have resulted at the very least, in a severe concussion. It is certain that I would have been totally incapable of assisting Cedric, who had no navigation experience, in a totally unknown and hostile environment.
3. I had purchased six Admiralty charts, both large and small scale to cover the areas I planned to sail, giving sufficient detail to cover possible safe havens should this become necessary. The only area I didn’t have in detail was the approach into Esbjerg, the detailed coastal chart of this region finishing just a few degrees below the port. In an effort to economise, I relied on my large scale chart for entry into Esbjerg, together with detailed sketches of the estuary sent to me by my Danish colleague. Trying to save a few pounds proved a false economy, and meant that my approach to Esbjerg was closer to the island of Fanø than would probably have been the case had I had a more detailed chart. This resulted in a much rougher and potentially dangerous finish to our passage.
4. I should have purchased a radio with built in tape recorder to ensure I didn’t miss the BBC shipping forecasts, rather than relying solely on being provided with weather forecasts from local sources. I would certainly not have set out from Borkum had I known we would encounter such extreme conditions.
We didn’t ask the harbourmaster at
Borkum to inform the local Coastguard of our crossing to Esbjerg because of language
problems. It is possible however, that we were reported to the Coastguard by one of the ships we
had altered course to avoid, since the sight of an open dinghy so far out to sea must have been
extremely unusual, and probably even alarming, for the ship's officers. When we were discussing
the incident on a visit to my local Coastguard station, they felt that
this was likely to have
happened, and that the German Coastguard, knowing that gales were imminent, had put out an alert to all
shipping in the area to report any sighting of us, giving our reported position and bearing.
A submarine exercise area is marked on the charts of the German Bight between the two shipping lanes, and a submarine in the area may have picked up the Coastguard alert and used it as an exercise to find and track us. It seems the only explanation as to why we were shadowed so closely for some considerable time, until I altered course to indicate that I felt they were a danger to us. The submarine appeared to recognise this and also altered course, as their light diverged from us more quickly than could be accounted for by only my own slight change of course. The light then continued to follow us from a further distance through the remaining darkness of night, until it was lost in the early morning light. It is now apparent that I should have made more effort to notify the German Coastguard of our proposed crossing.
A submarine exercise area is marked on the charts of the German Bight between the two shipping lanes, and a submarine in the area may have picked up the Coastguard alert and used it as an exercise to find and track us. It seems the only explanation as to why we were shadowed so closely for some considerable time, until I altered course to indicate that I felt they were a danger to us. The submarine appeared to recognise this and also altered course, as their light diverged from us more quickly than could be accounted for by only my own slight change of course. The light then continued to follow us from a further distance through the remaining darkness of night, until it was lost in the early morning light. It is now apparent that I should have made more effort to notify the German Coastguard of our proposed crossing.
Ralph Roberts W9885 Spree Lady
...
Bob and Clare also successfully
reached Rantzausminde, though they had a narrow escape from disaster
when a cruiser giving them a tow through the Kiel canal, stopped to
refuel. A manoeuvering coaster just missed their boat, and smashed
into, and crushed, the three yachts moored immediately behind them. It
would have been a bitter irony for them, had they been a little further
back, to have survived crossing the North Sea, only to come to grief in
what one would regard as a much safer stretch of water. They managed to
sail around 30 n.m. most days, and were holed up for only one day in
Wangerooge with the bad weather we experienced.
Crews from the International gathering of over 70 Wayfarers being briefed for the day’s proposed sail.
It is the most perfect location for sailing that I have had the good fortune to visit.
Nowhere else could you simply walk only 50 to 100 m. from your tent or camper to your boat, and set off to sail.
The
Wayfarers are moored to stakes in the sandy bay, which is shallow
enough to permit walking out to the boats.
The sailing in the area couldn’t be more ideal, with many islands and places of interest to visit.
With a choice of many directions in which to sail, most trips can be organised by sailing on an easy reach.
The sailing in the area couldn’t be more ideal, with many islands and places of interest to visit.
With a choice of many directions in which to sail, most trips can be organised by sailing on an easy reach.
The Harlands were given a
rapturous reception on their arrival at the Rally by the 70 plus
Wayfarers and families from various parts of Europe and North America,
who were attending the event. A great evening was enjoyed, including
singing around a campfire to the Danish
Wayfarer Stompers group of musicians, before they set off the
next morning to tow their Wayfarer back to the ferry terminal.