Christian Tiedt
· 12.10.2015
"A year ago now, an organisation came into being that can be counted among the best achievements of our time and is certainly heading for a rich future. It is the German Shipwreck Rescue Association, which was founded in Kiel on 29 May last year.
This is how the first major German magazine - a paper with the chaste name "Gartenlaube" - praised the still young sea rescue organisation in May 1866, barely a year after it was founded. With honest enthusiasm, it lists what has already been achieved: Thirteen district associations with rescue stations and boats had been set up on the North and Baltic Seas, from Borkum to Pillau - anything but a matter of course, after all, the area at that time still comprised a handful of more or less sovereign states, from the Grand Duchy of Oldenburg to the Kingdom of Prussia.
But the author will be right in his assessment: Because the "rich future" of sea rescuers had only just begun back then. It continues to this day. Even though the technology has changed, the task of the men and women of the DGzRS is still the same after 150 years: helping people in distress.
Seafarers viewed the early combustion engines with a great deal of scepticism: they were weak-chested and yet loud, prone to malfunctions and, in the truest sense of the word, highly dangerous - in other words, they were anything but miraculous machines. After all, what use are a few horsepower if the whole boat suddenly blows up in your face? It's better to rely on the tried and tested: muscle power and wind.
However, as it is almost impossible to get through the surf in an onshore storm under sail, or to cross free from a lee shore, the rescuers almost always put their backs into the oars in the first decades of the DGzRS's history. When the alarm is raised, powerful cold-blooded horses heave the team with the 30-foot-long "standard German lifeboat" over dunes and beaches and into the waves.
The men are already on board, wearing heavy oilskins and cork life jackets. The only other protection against the "most terrible upheaval of the elements", freezing spray, hail and snow, is the southwester on their heads, pulled down low, as the boats are uncovered, i.e. open. As soon as the heavy wooden boat floats up, the foreman grabs the tiller and with a combined pull, they head for their destination.
Only when the engine technology had matured to the point where its strengths outweighed its weaknesses did the DGzRS embark on the conversion. The most ardent advocate of this step is Gregor Pfeifer from Bremen, who worked for the organisation as "Chief Inspector" for a quarter of a century. It is therefore a fitting tribute that the DGzRS's first motor lifeboat, the "Oberinspector Pfeifer", is named after him in 1911.
The commissioning of the robust new build marked the beginning of a new era for the sea rescuers: just two months later, the first mission was carried out on the Kiel Fjord off Laboe, and by the end of the year, twelve people had been rescued from distress at sea. "The boat and the engine proved themselves excellently in the heavy seas," attested the foreman in a mission report. This was convincing - and the company began to refit the fleet.
After the first motorised lifeboats such as the "Oberinspector Pfeifer", the technical development towards more powerful units gained increasing speed after the First World War. The rescue station on Borkum in the middle of the Ems estuary with its reefs and sands is an example of this. After the last use of a rowing lifeboat in 1926, the MRB "Hindenburg" is stationed on the island; it already has a steel hull and twin-screw propulsion. The larger "August Nebelthau" followed in 1932, which in turn was replaced by a second new "Hindenburg" in 1937.
With a length of 16 metres, 200 hp engine power and a fully enclosed wheelhouse far aft for the first time, the MRB was considered the most advanced and powerful boat in the fleet when it entered service. And yet, during a rescue mission in 1941, the "Hindenburg" and its entire crew of six were lost for reasons that are still unknown today. Whether a floating mine was actually responsible was never clarified.
Nevertheless, the boats are to be made even safer. This included an elevated superstructure with a wheelhouse for better visibility and additional protection from overcoming waves. The "Borkum", which had been assigned to the station since it was built during the war, was also designed according to these principles and was due to make its biggest deployment on the evening of 28 November 1951:
On this day, a heavy north-westerly storm is sweeping across the German Bight. It is already dark when the distress radio centre on the island picks up a distress call: The English "Teeswood" has run aground north-west of the "Mövensteert-Nord" buoy. Just a few minutes later, the "Borkum", with three men on board, rounds the pier heads at full speed, right into the middle of lashing hail gusts to brace itself against the storm and tidal current.
Soon the shipwrecked vessel is reached, emergency rockets light up the sky eerily. Then the "Teeswood" reports: "Ship is breaking through!" The North Sea showed no mercy to the 60-metre-long steamer, so it had to move very quickly. Its stern is fully exposed to the force of the breakers, disappearing again and again in bells of surging spray. The crew huddles together on the bridge and forecastle.
It takes the "Borkum" several attempts to get alongside; there is nowhere to shelter from the wind and waves and she is repeatedly thrown hard against the side of the freighter. But the perseverance of the sea rescuers is rewarded: man after man dares to jump from the "Teeswood" onto the deck, which is floundering below - all except two, who are washed overboard and never found. But thirteen sailors are saved from certain death.

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