The Munich Dilemma
by Sinbad

Chapter 14

Ricky found it was curiously peaceful sailing the Sea Horse with Chris on deck with him. Neither of them spoke but the companionship was palpable nevertheless. The movement of the deck was regular, and neither boy was having any trouble with seasickness. The big wherry pushed on through the water and all around the sea sparkled in the moonlight. Over the starboard bow the horizon was beginning to lighten a little with the approaching dawn. He found he could see around him rather better. Each of them had had only four hours' sleep but neither of them was feeling short of sleep or overtired. When the watch reached four hours, they decided to allow Pieter a little longer in bed and they didn't knock on his door like Gloria had instructed. Instead they stayed at their posts.

Half an hour afterwards a very angry Pieter stumped up the companionway.

“Never, ever, do that again!”

He took the tiller from Ricky. “If I tell you to wake me at eight, that's what I expect you to do. If I thought I needed extra sleep I'd have planned it. It's not up to you boys to decide what's good for me. I'm not an old man, you know!”

Ricky and Chris glanced at each other. Pieter continued, a little more calmly. “I had intended to change course when I came on watch, not we're half an hour late and we're off course. This sort of thing is important on board ship, and don't you forget it!”

And he sent Ricky below to get some breakfast and then sleep. Chris was left on deck, feeling very sheepish. He tried to find an opportunity to apologise but Pieter wasn't making any openings for him, so they passed an hour or so in complete silence before Pieter spoke again.

“You see the coast? Off the port bow?”

Chris could just about make out a grey shape in the grey early morning light. It was amazing that the old man could see so well. Maybe he was right to protest that he wasn't old!

“The riding lights are no longer doing anything useful. You can take them down and blow them out, and put them away in their locker below decks. Can you do that?”

“Mrs van Kemp showed me how. I'm sure I can do it.”

“Jump to it, then!” - and Pieter gave Chris a broad smile, which relieved the tension between them. He bounded forwards and took down the lights, one at a time, winding the wicks down, blowing them out, stowing them in their locker. And he went back to his post in a happier frame of mind.

The rest of the watch passed amicably. The light improved bit by bit and the coast became clearer over the port bow. They didn't talk much, but Pieter asked Chris how they came to be needing a passage home, and Chris explained about seeing Blumfeld in the airport. He wasn't sure how much Pieter believed of his story, but the older man was quiet for a bit after that, perhaps thinking over what he'd heard.

A little before eight in the morning, Chris began to catch wafts of a tantalising smell – frying bacon. Gloria was at the galley stove, cooking breakfast. Ricky appeared at the companionway and greeted the on-duty crew by yawning at them and stretching.

“Sleep well?” asked Chris.

“Like a log. Dead to the world. But I could do with another eight hours, I reckon!”

Pieter interrupted. “You will have to wait a little while for that, young man. Eat your breakfast and then come up here and take over at the helm so that Chris and I can eat. Then in just a few hours now we'll be going about, turning inland to dock at Ipswich. Then you'll be able to sleep, if that's what you want to do.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Ricky gave a smirk to confirm that he was being playful and disappeared back into the cabin. Gloria passed mugs of coffee up to the two on deck.

Breakfast was wonderful. Fried bacon, with just the right amount of crispiness. Fried bread, saturated with oil and nicely browned. Mushrooms, fried and slippery. Tomato halves, fried until their skins were loose. And eggs, two each, fried just right so the yolk was still runny but the white was fully set. Could any breakfast be better, and served at sea in a sailing ship after a night on watch. Ricky enjoyed the first batch with Gloria, and then Gloria served up two further plates full and they changed places with the others. This time Ricky took the tiller and Gloria did lookout duty. Here more than ever they had to keep their eyes peeled, a lot of commercial shipping would be making its way in or out of Ipswich with the high tide.

After breakfast it was all hands on deck to go about, although with only one sail and the mainsheet block on a runner across the transom, the stern of the boat, there shouldn't be a lot to do. Pieter took the tiller, and judged his manoeuvre by sighting the land. He knew the landmarks to look for, and recognised the inlet leading to Ipswich before either of the boys could see that there was one.

“Ready about!” he called, alerting everyone that he was about to make the manoeuvre. Gloria released the mainsheet from its cleat but left it wound around the hand winch.

“Lee - o!” The traditional cry giving the instruction to go about, to turn the boat into the wind and past, so that the wind blew from the other side, basically instructs the helmsman to push the tiller over to the lee side, away from the wind. That twists the rudder in the water to turn the boat, and the helmsman watches the boat turn, the sails flap when the wind is directly ahead, and then he watches the sails fill again as the boat continues its turn. The sail fills on the other side, and the mainsheet block, the pulley which gives purchase to enable one man to pull the sail to the angle at which he wants it, slides along its rail until it is on the new leeward side of the transom, the board which makes the stern of the boat.

On the Sea Horse, Gloria released the tail of the mainsheet from the winch on the starboard side of the boat as the sail began to flap. And she carried it across the deck to the port side winch, and took a couple of turns around that winch, and tightened it as soon as the block had slid to the port side of the transom rail.

They had sailed close hauled all the way up from Bremerhaven, with the sail drawn in almost in line with the centre line of the ship, the closest to the wind she was capable of sailing. Now Pieter turned her a little further off the wind so that they made their approach to Ipswich on a narrow reach.

He began talking, perhaps to himself, but likely so the boys could hear him.

“A sailing vessel cannot sail in any direction she likes, unlike a motor vessel or rowing boat. She cannot sail directly into the wind. People who don't know about sailing often think sailing boats can only sail away from the wind, with the wind behind them so the wind simply blows them along. Certainly a sailing boat can sail that way, it's called running before the wind. But at ninety degrees to that direction, the wind is coming over the side of the boat, and that's called sailing on a beam reach. And boats generally sail faster that way, because of the aerodynamic characteristic of the sail. Half way between running before the wind and a beam reach is a broad reach, and half way between a beam reach and sailing into the wind (which is impossible, if you remember) is called a narrow reach. Closer to the wind than a narrow reach, as close to the wind as the ship can sail, is called close hauled, because the sheets are hauled in as tight as they will go, more-or-less, to make the sail take on an aerofoil shape like an aeroplane wing. That way the ship can move forward although the wind is blowing almost directly backward.

“The aerodynamic principle of sailing is what makes fore-and-aft rigged sailing vessels more efficient and more flexible than square-rigged ships, like the Malcolm Miller. The Malcolm Miller, as I remember, has two yard arms on her foremast, so she carries two square sails in addition to her gaff rigged foresail and mailsail, and her bermuda rigged mizzen sail. Have I got that right? Yes I think so. Now, when can she carry her square sails? When she's running before the wind, certainly, and they're very useful then since the other sails do not perform at their best before the wind. But once she's past a beam reach, the square sails have to be furled because they won't draw, and wouldn't be at all efficient if they would.

“No, give me a gaff-rigged wherry any day. I love the Sea Horse and wouldn't part with her for the world.”

He fell silent, and the boys looked at each other, not sure whether to say anything. Eventually Chris spoke. “She's a lovely ship, sir, er, Pieter, and it's been great sailing her. Thank you very much for taking us!”

“Yes, thank you. You've done us a great favour. Is there an address we can write to you at? We'd like to write, and I've an idea our parents will want to thank you.”

Gloria wrote an address on a pad. “We do have a home but post that goes there doesn't get read except on the rare times when we check up on the old place. I've written the address of the post office at Bremerhaven. We call in there more often than anywhere else, and they have a system of postboxes and we have one allocated to us. That 's the best way to contact us, though mail is likely to take a week or two to reach us, depending on when we call for it.”

Ricky carefully put the sheet from the pad in his wallet. “Thank you!”

There was now land both sides as they approached Ipswich harbour. The wind dropped considerably and they coasted gently into the harbour entrance and Pieter suggested they try coming to rest against the dockside entirely under sail. They boys were enthusiastic and he gave them instructions. The wind was coming off the dock, so they sailed up to the dockside on the starboard tack, and then spilled the wind, by releasing the main sheet a little until the sail began to flap and pull less efficiently. With the sail flapping they made slower progress the last stage of their approach and at the last moment, when otherwise they would crash into the dock, they turned directly into the wind and the boat came to a stop and began to make headway backwards. It had to be timed perfectly. As Pieter brought the boat into the wind to stop the boat hitting the dockside, Chris leaped onto the dock with the bow painter. And he tied the painter down to a bollard on the dock, preventing the boat from being blown backwards away from the dock. And then the other crew members lowered the gaff and furled the big mainsail against it, leaving the sail wrapped around the gaff held horizontal a little above their heads. Once the sail was furled, the boat could be brought up to the dock to lay alongside, by throwing the stern warp to Chris on the dock, and having him haul it up until the ship was lying parallel, releasing a little of the bow painter if necessary, before making fast.

There followed a flurry of activity. Chris jumped back on board to help as they tidied the ship. All ropes not already neatly coiled were coiled, stowed or hung on belaying pins. The heavy canvas cover was brought out from a forward locker and wrapped around the gaff, covering and protecting the sail. Down below, bedding was aired and stowed, and dishes were washed and put away.

Pieter suddenly stopped in the middle of sluicing the deck with a mop and bucket of water. “Chris, Ricky, why is it important when mooring to a dockside, to know if you are in tidal water?”

After a moment it was Ricky who replied “The slack you leave in the mooring ropes. You have to allow for the boat rising and falling with the tide. Otherwise if you moor tight to the dock at high tide, the ship could be left hanging high above the water by her moorings at low tide.”

“Yes indeed, I've seen it more than once, I remember once in Norfolk, and we didn't let the skipper of that little ship forget it for months!”

Despite having announced how tired they were earlier, both boys felt the need to be continuing their journey, and said their goodbyes and repeated their thanks.

“How will you get home from here?”

“We'll have to phone and I think someone will come and get us.” Ricky felt in his pockets, and felt the shape of a few coins, he hoped sufficient for the phone call he planned to make. Pieter saw the movement.

“You have enough money?”

“Yes, and thank you again. We'll be fine now. We'll write to you!”

They walked off along the dock and twice turned to wave. Pieter and Gloria stood on the deck of their little ship and waved until they were out of sight.