I’d seen a guy walking around on deck, approached him and told him I liked his beautiful boat. It turns out that the captain was looking for a couple of crewmen. He’d just had two crewmen jump ship and he thought Steve and I were the answer to his prayers. Steve was not in the slightest interested in curtailing a trip to Greece, but for me it was a dream come true!
So the next morning I threw my backpack onboard, said goodbye to Steve and my folks and sailed off. There’s no way I could have dreamed what manner of adventure was in store for me, but I was glad my mom had no idea until afterwards.
If you want to hear the whole 30-minute illustrated story as told through the journals of myself and Paul Kleinhaus, a one-legged German sailor
who was one of the passengers on board, watch this video. Otherwise, the quick story goes like this:
There were 5 of us onboard the Anne Linde, a modern reconstruction of an 1864 schooner design, the German captain, three paying passengers and the total crew of myself. I had done some sailing so I knew what I was doing, but had to learn the commands and ship parts in German.
What none of us could have guessed is that a surprise storm came up so fast as we entered the Gulf of Taranto that evening that we didn’t have time to take down sails before the wind was pounding the ship so badly that it careened from one gunnel to the other, trapping us in the cockpit. All the dark night the storm battered the ship, breaking it up piece by piece as we cowered on deck. At one point, the gaff boom overhead––14 feet long and thick as my leg–– snapped in two! The loose part, suspended above our heads by a single rope like a giant toothpick, slammed against the mast, threatening to drop at any moment and skewer one of us like an hors d’oeuvres olive.
