"The rudder strap broke... READY FOR TAKING IN THE SAIL... TAKE IN THE SAIL!"
The second before I heard an unusual sound in the ship. Not the cosy sound of water along the side of the ship. Not the safe sound of oak groaning in the swell. But a short snap and a slight tug in the ship... a bit like when a shroud pin broke yesterday. Just farther from the midship this time.
I am no experienced sailor, but I have sailed square sailed ships for enough years to know that that sound spells trouble.
I was therefore already moving from my comfy seat on the oars, when skippers' order turned the ship upside down.
The wind was good at that time... 10-12 metres a second (a strong breeze) I guess. And we sailed 8-10 knots. The swell was pretty short and steep - the waves probably had a height of one metre and a half.
We quickly took in the sail. We put the yard and the sail on three gallows midships. Our boatswain was called to repair the damage. Without an efficient rudder it is very difficult to navigate the Sea Stallion, so the ship soon lay across the swell. And midships was a mess, with ropes flopping here and there, and a rolling deck throwing us off balance. Men there was no panic brewing at all. Not even when a very steep wave had the ship slope so much to starboard, so that the yard fell from the gallows. In a few seconds we had the yard back on the gallows and securing it the the mast with a rope.
After perhaps 10-15 minutes a new rudder strap was in place. And we could set sail again. When the sail was up, we could see that one of the ropes had wrapped itself around the outermost part of the yard. Sail down again. This time abeam the ship.
Edgar from the middle of the ship was secured with a safety-line and climbed onto the yard, with the task of forcing the rope back to its proper place. And now my pulse began to rise a bit. It was some swing Edgar took. Several metres into the air one moment and then almost into the waves the next. Admitted; I was nervous if he could hold on to the yard and work at the same time.
But I really didn't watch Edgar that much. Others did that. I was in the opposite side of Edgar; on port side by the yard. And I was more concerned with the waves coming towards us. One time after another the port side of the yard dived deep into a wave and scooping hundres of litres of seawater up in a fold in the sail. The fold got deeper and deeper. The people nearby tried with all their might to empty the fold with a bucket, but could no way empty the fold as quickly as it took in water.
I feared, of course, that a wave would force so much water into the sail, so that the Sea Stallion would start heeling to port side, making us an easy prey for a high swell, that could come over the ship's side and make us heel even more.
Finally the skipper gave the order:
"Ready to set sail... SET SAIL!"
The people in the responsible rum (section of the ship) pulled up the sail about half a metre, when a steep wave came over the yard and the outermost corner of the sail. The pressure from the water had the yard hit wash strake - the uppermost row of strakes on the side of the ship - that the wash strake split and the studdings bended. But with that the first bit of drama ended on the Sea Stallions' expedition to Dublin. The sail was raised. And the Sea Stallion could continue the beautiful journey.
The atmosphere was hectic. There was a lot of yelling. Probably more than necessary as well. It was completely clear, that people were ready and knew that this was the time for working fast. But great drama it really wasn't. At most a bit of excitement, which at least brought my pulse into a higher level than ever before on this cruise.
But the skipper is completely right: It was good that the rudder strap broke today and not in the middle of the North Sea with a wind of 15 m/sec. (a near gale) and waves double the size of today. And the experience was good for us. We have to be quick as lightning when something unexpected happens... and be able to react as fast and preferably much faster than today.
Hopefully, the small episode of this day have made us all more attentive. So much is happening on the Sea Stallion and there are so many people and so much talk everywhere all the time, so inattentiveness comes easily.
And fundamentally, the most danger for an expedition like this does not come from the wind or the ocean but from our own inattention.