100 years ago: An adventurous summer – sailing the North Sea and the Baltic Sea on the ‘Ingeborg 3’

The report in which the “Schiffer Sala” (with the proud suffixes M.Y.C.v.D.-C.M.Y.-St.Y.C.-Kr.-Abt. d. D.S. Vb.) An account of the adventures of the “Ingeborg 3” in the summer of 1926 appeared in our sister magazine, YACHT, that very same year. We are reprinting it here in its original form, with the spelling as it was at the time. A look through the archives reveals that some things were different 100 years ago – but many others were not. The first part takes us down the River Weser towards the North Sea as far as Bremerhaven.

​Text: Schiffer Sala – M.Y.C.v.D.-C.M.Y.-St.Y.C.-Kr. Branch of the D.S. Vb.

No more hibernation!

The sleek sea cruiser ‘Ingeborg 3’, a vessel 14 metres long, three metres wide and with a draught of one metre, had finally been launched by the Vertens & Co. shipyard in Bremen-Hemelingen on the Wednesday before Easter this year, following a long period of inactivity and a refit, so that it was at least afloat when we arrived on board on Maundy Thursday, having travelled from Berlin, to begin the transfer. However, there was still a great deal of work to be done in stowing the equipment.

Apart from a few minor issues and a mix-up, everything was eventually in place, and as the hull was watertight, setting sail seemed a distinct possibility. With bated breath, we now awaited the 60-PS B engine to start up.M.W. engine to start up, which it did after a few initial fruitless attempts and the sacrifice of an uncounted number of beads of sweat. A short test run and careful fine-tuning gave us the final assurance that the launch on Friday (of all days!) was a certainty.

It’s getting hot below deck

Thursday afternoon was spent stocking up on provisions for the long voyage and the six-man crew (including the wife of the elder of the two brothers who owned the boat, who had been hired as cook, stewardess and dishwasher).

Having been away from water sports in general – and from our beloved boat in particular – for so long, our first evening on board was a rather long one, The events ahead also provided endless material for sailor’s tall tales, which began with the ‘Bathing Angel’ and ended with the ‘Sea Devil’, not forgetting the shipyards, which were the subject of one song of praise and ten curses. Meanwhile, a merry fire crackled in the stove, bringing the temperature below deck up to 20°, ourselves up to 40°, and the Grocks up to 80° above the outside temperature.

Explosive growth

The first day and evening were followed by the first night, which might well have been the start of our voyage. The captain and crew’s restless sleep led the former to get up at 3 o’clock in the morning, as something seemed amiss. They investigated a faint splashing sound and were horrified to discover that the petrol pipe had burst.

The realisation that the tank contained 700 litres of this highly flammable substance – much of which was probably already floating in the bilge, whilst a fierce fire was burning in the stove – called for swift and cool-headed action. Everyone was roused; the bulleys and hatches were kept tightly closed to prevent fresh air from entering, whereupon the fire in the stove was first carefully extinguished.

A memorable first night

Once everyone was ashore, I realised that around 250 litres of petrol had spilled into the bilge, filling it from the owner’s cabin right through to behind the engine room. The engine bilge pump could not be started due to the risk of sparks, so we had to bail out the water by hand in the pitch-black night.

Everyone who wasn’t involved with the pumps was ashore, enjoying their more or less delightful existence and indulging in a cigarette, which, having survived the ordeal, could now be smoked there without danger and with pleasure. After making a makeshift repair to the burst pipe, it was off to the bunk to catch up on lost sleep.

But now: Cast off!

The following morning was spent taking on fresh fuel, and once the pipework had also been thoroughly overhauled, the mooring lines were cast off around midday. We passed through the lock at a slow speed and then, with the wind, current and ebb tide in our favour, headed down the Weser at full speed, travelling at a speed of about 15 miles over ground.

​After a splendid voyage and a beautiful early spring’s day, we moored alongside a barge in Bremerhaven as darkness fell, so as not to be inconvenienced by the need to adjust the mooring lines due to the tides. We put a shipyard fitter, whom we had taken on board as a precaution, ashore here; the following morning we took on drinking water and left the harbour as the tide was rising, so that we could reach the mouth of the Elbe across the mudflats at high tide.

Part two is coming soon!