A beautiful summer night - and we're off!

Published 17th Jul 2007

Three crewmembers are playing soccer on the quay. Jesper from the aftrum (section of the ship) approaches me, smiling broadly. In a low voice he says; "this is it... are you ready?"

I am more than ready. Ready for the North Sea.

There is a strange atmosphere on the Sea Stallion, as we put out ten minutes past midnight. Safe and sound. After two weeks we are a team. We are bursting with excitement, expecting four perhaps five days and nights at sea.

We're quiet. Rowing on the same stroke on every second oar out of the harbour and the skerries. 20 Norwegians from Egersund are waving goodbay from the quay, even though it is long past bedtime.

It is impossible to see the stroke-oar - the first oar on starboard. The oar determining our strokes. Instead I listen to the sound of the oar hitting the water.

There is no wind. A summer dusk. And it is wonderful to be on the Sea Stallion. I get a lump in my throat. This moment is one of the most beautiful, I have experienced on the ship.

I love the sense of humor and the high spirits on board, but the greatest moments are when we 65 people share experiences so strong, we all are quiet. It is a strong experience to be with 64 other people and just experience in silence.

A couple of hours later we're out of the fjord. Stow away the oars and set sail. Now we just have to wait for the eastern wind promised by the meteorologists.

Port side have guard duty, and I fall asleep. Before I close my eyes with a happy feeling in my guts, I look at the lighthouse near Egersund. Farewell Norway... thank you for your enormous hospitality.

...

God dammit! After four hours of sleep, I am roused. There is just no wind. I get up. The lighthouse is in the exact same spot on the horizon as when I went to sleep.

Four hours later the lighthouse the lighthouse haven't moved a bit. Eight hours of useless waiting. Not the least bit of wind.

Skipper makes a very tough decision. We have to prepare for taking a tow all across the North Sea. The weather forecasts have changed dramatically since midnight. The promised eastern wind doesn't come. And rough depressions are coming.

Theres nothing worth reporting for the next 24 hours. We are on tow. The dream of sailing across the North Sea lost. I could cry. I have prepared for this climax for years. I am going to write a book on the Sea Stallions expedition from Roskilde to Dublin. I have waited almost two weeks with the rest of the crew, for this one chance to cross the sea on the eastern wind. As late as a few hours before departure we checked the forecast... and then it wasn't right.

I am disillusioned. Tired. And angry. But I don't know who I should be angry with.

...

I have slept, slept and slept. Normally I have difficulties with the shifts, sleeping four hours to be ready for four hours of duty. But tonight I could sleep 2 x four hours for the first time in the three years, I've been sailing the Sea Stallion.

I head the aft guard shift hoot when four dolphins raced the Sea Stallion. And I heard hooting when my fellow crewmembers saw the first oil rig.

But I didn't bother. Angry and sullen and tired, as I was.

...

"If it is hopeless, there is still hope," Preben from midships use to say. And there might be something to it, for this morning everything got better. Now we have eastern wind. Not much, but enough for sailing. So after about 24 hours we could throw away the towing rope and again sail using our own engine; the wind.

It is foggy. Visibility is 150 metres right now. Above us the sun is almost breaking through, but we continue gliding quietly through the skies, that have found rest on the ocean.

We hide in the fog, as we sneak towards the northern Scotland. If we can keep up this speed we should be there tomorrow morning. But more wind and more speed for the Sea Stallion should be coming later today.

Right now I am on 'Cable One' writing this story and sending it home. Looking to the left. A 100 metres from the escort ship is the Sea Stallion. Gently rolling on the heavy North Sea swells, as she slowly draws near to her target. Like a cat, eyeing a mouse: By the gods she is beautiful!


Created by Henrik Kastoft