Huge waves were breaking over the deck, sometimes it seemed to disappear completely.

In the afternoon watch Frachnect, the young German, was at the helm. At 1535 the worst thing, short of total destruction, that can take place on a sailing ship running before a storm-force wind happened. The boy couldn’t hold his own against the sea as it pounded and smashed against the ship’s stern and rudder. She turned broadside to the waves and all the sails were taken aback, filling with wind on their forward side. The ship thrashed as if it was in its death throes, the sea thundered straight across the deck, the sails flapping and banging against the masts. On deck the roaring green sea tore open the fo’c’sle doors, smashed the oil lamps hanging from the deck beams. Plates, mugs, sea chests were torn out of their places and tossed in all directions. The poop deck wasn’t spared either. A wave pouring over it broke the skylight and plunged into the corridor, rumbling back and forth between the cabins and the corridor. The galley on the main deck was flooded with water which snatched cooking utensils, cans of beans and meat, throwing everything this way and that, dragging them out on to the deck and then swilling them out through the scuppers into the raging sea.

Three whistles: All men on deck!

The captain had rushed to the helm and was measuring up the situation from there. Another helmsman, Bob, a skilled Yankee, rushed to help him. The torture of suspense could be seen in the captain’s face as his gaze swept over the foremast and mainmast – could the stays bear the tremendous strain? The parting of a single stay could result in catastrophe, the end result of which would be a notification on Lloyd’s Register - Posted missing.

Eino Koivistoinen