GREAT SEAMANSHIP
LYNN ROACH REACHES THE CHESAPEAKE AFTER BEING ROLLED AND DISMASTED WHILE CROSSING THE ATLANTIC – ONLY TO FIND THE US COAST GUARD NONPLUSSED
Seefalke is a long-ended 1930s classic, built to the old 50 Square Metre rule for the Luftwaffe by Abeking & Rasmussen, one of the finest yards of the golden age of yachting. In 1945 she and a number of her sisters were famously ‘liberated’ from their home berths in Kiel by the British armed forces and sailed back to the UK for training.
Their subsequent history is varied and colourful, but none can beat Seefalke for sheer derring-do. Bought in a parlous state by Lynn Roach, a young Welshman from Barry, she was restored and prepared for a single-handed transatlantic voyage in 1995, still without an engine.
Lynn’s book Living in the Lap of the Gods is such a cover-to-cover page-turner that it was hard to choose a section to share. But here we join Lynn and Seefalke approaching the Chesapeake Bay in November. He has just suffered a shocker of a storm which rolled him twice, dismasted him and left him pumping for his life. Any of us would go big on the drama, but not Lynn. This time-served toolmaker seems to take whatever the ocean tosses his way in his easy stride.
0600: I was blessed with light winds, a flat sea, and the sun was out. This was a good day to get all my wet clothes dried. Before having half a packet of porridge and a coffee, I spread all my clothes out across the deck
Once breakfast was out of the way, I had to get the boom working. The gooseneck had been ripped off, so all I could do was lash the boom to the mast stump as best I could.
The mainsheet now gave me a functioning boom. I was all finished and could focus on getting some sails up and starting my long trip towards land.
I attached the trysail to the boom and hoisted it up. Next, I rigged the storm jib to the forestay and got that hoisted too. I sheeted both sails in, and slowly Seefalke started to move forwards. I fixed the self-steering and, with George back up and running, it felt like old times again.
1200, 30°18’N 072°03’W: After an orange for lunch, I turned on my GPS. I had been pushed 60 miles to the north-west by the wind and current since I last checked two days ago, which was good news for my limited food supply.
According to the GPS, my speed over the ground was roughly 1½ knots, which wasn’t brilliant, but I was moving. With the help of a bit of current, I hoped I could cover between 36 and 50 miles a day. If I could coax a bit more speed out of my set-up, it would make a huge difference. I had done enough on the rig for one day, though, and so I decided
