While their 8-meter Fantasia floats in distress off Guernsey due to rudder damage, the crew of the Corto, who left Cherbourg earlier, face a critical situation on April 25, 2023. In this crucial moment, their destiny is linked to that of the majestic Götheborg, a 47-meter Swedish square-rigged three-master, replica of an 18th century historic ship and considered one of the largest wooden sailing ships in the world, which has heard their call on the VHF. David Moeneclaey, one of the Corto's co-owners, tells us what happened next.
Götheborg's outstretched hand
The Götheborg comes dangerously close to our sailboat and tries to throw us a towline, a first thin rope which we will then use to pull a thicker rope for the trailer. The maneuver proves more perilous than expected. She's to leeward of us, but our boat is drifting too fast, in danger of colliding with this imposing wooden hull that rises and falls with the waves. The majestic three-master continues to manoeuvre around us, making several attempts to throw us the touline. After several unsuccessful attempts, we finally managed to land it. For our part, we have prepared mooring lines at the bow of our boat, ready to be attached to this strong, hemp-scented rope.
A perilous tow
Our fates are now linked for long hours. The docking is finally complete, sealing our common destiny for many hours to come. We share the same radio frequency to communicate with each other. The crew of the Götheborg are extremely professional and kind to us. The ship begins to move forward, gently dragging us along. She adjusts her speed according to the size of our modest craft and the weather conditions.
We're accompanied by seasoned sailors who inspire confidence. Every hour, the Götheborg's officer of the watch calls us to make sure everything is running smoothly. Towing turns out to be more complex than it seems. As our boat is no longer equipped with its rudder, it does not follow a straight trajectory, but oscillates in zigzags, causing a shock with each change of direction, which risks damaging our modest mooring lines attached to the powerful towing rope.
Moorings don't hold
After an hour, we were dismayed to discover that our two mooring lines at the bow of the boat had sheared off completely, rubbing against the bow fittings. These mooring lines won't hold much longer. A solution has to be found quickly. We double the mooring lines, but this time we have to protect them from shearing. On the one hand, we protect the mooring lines by wrapping them in several layers of fabric cut from a cover, all secured with self-adhesive tape and serflex. Secondly, I avoid contact between the rope and the bow fitting by inserting the fitting into a fender that's been cut open with a knife. And it works!
Knowing how to react and intervene
This time, the mooring lines are well protected from friction. To reduce the boat's swaying movements, we also add a drag at the stern of the boat, using all the ropes we have on board. As we glide through the waters of the English Channel, the hours tick by and the light softens, plunging us into a singular adventure. The waves dance around our hull, while the last rays of the setting sun are reflected on the sparkling surface of the sea. We could almost believe we're on an adventure worthy of Corto Maltese's tales, sailing off the China Sea.
Being towed by a majestic ship from another era is a unique and memorable experience. However, let's get back to reality: the tow is going to last a very long time, almost 21 hours. We'll be spending the night together, keeping a constant lookout, exchanging regular radio calls and enjoying a few brief moments of rest.
Paimpol rather than Guernsey
The question arises as to why Paimpol was chosen over Guernsey, which was closer. Paimpol was proposed directly by the Gotheborg. The area around Guernsey and the Channel Islands is much more difficult to access, with a fairly dangerous coastline and very strong currents. What's more, we would have had to sail against the wind, which would have complicated matters, especially with our relatively slow progress. The Paimpol area, on the other hand, offers a certain amount of peace and quiet, and fits in better with the Gotheborg's route plan, as she was due to head for Jersey the following day. Given its large size, it is impossible for the Gotheborg to enter Paimpol harbor. Our aim is to get as close to the coast as possible, then ask another boat to tow us into port.
Land in sight!
The next day, as we approached the French coast, the Cross Corsen safety service took over. To facilitate our entry into the harbor, a new radio call was sent out to all vessels, requesting assistance from another vessel. Unfortunately, no positive response was received.
As soon as we had regained our network connection, I also contacted my marine insurance broker to inform him of our misadventure. The first exchange with the broker was surprising. He tells me straight away that my insurance deductible has risen from 250 euros to 2,500 euros. The reason given was that our mooring port was now in France. I'm stunned by this sudden information, which seems to come out of nowhere. But for the moment, we're still at sea, and we've got a lot more to worry about than this deductible issue.
Arrival of the SNSM Paimpol launch
At around midday, the Götheborg approaches the coast as close as possible, until the Société Nationale de Sauvetage en Mer (SNSM) arrives. Once the towline change is complete, we express our deep gratitude to the crew of the Götheborg with large gestures, and they respond in kind. It's an emotional moment, as our paths now take us in different directions. The SNSM boat is relatively fast. We pass through the harbour lock and arrive safely in Paimpol.
As a sign of our gratitude, we offer a few Belgian beers to the crew of the SNSM launch.
Warmly welcomed by seafarers
We're warmly welcomed by the harbor agents who tow us to the foot of Chantier Dauphin. We soon meet Pierre-Yves Dauphin, the owner of Paimpol's largest shipyard. The boat is taken out of the water and examined by the yard's team of experienced professionals. They were perplexed by the situation, having never seen solid stainless steel fittings tear in this way for no apparent reason. According to the experts, it is certain that the rudder has come into contact with something, probably a rope or a drifting fishing net. An estimate is drawn up within a day, and repairs will be carried out by their qualified team within a week, with the agreement of our insurer.
An epilogue with a happy ending
The question of insurance comes up frequently, as the boat is covered by comprehensive insurance. Our marine insurer's conclusion is unequivocal: in their view, the accident was caused by wear and tear due to the boat's age. This puts an end to discussions about the deductible that would have been applicable. They only pay for the towing carried out by the SNSM over the last few nautical miles. As for the Götheborg, it never asked us for anything for this long tow of almost 50 nautical miles and 21h of navigation.
The importance of the distress call in English
We then contacted the crew of the Götheborg to thank them, and a few days later we were invited on board during their stopover in Rotterdam. It was a wonderful opportunity to thank them warmly and to discover their remarkable ship. During this meeting, they shared with us an important detail: our initial VHF radio call had been made in English and then relayed in French by Cross Jobourg. If we hadn't made the call in English, the Götheborg's officer of the watch wouldn't have understood and been unable to react. This trip will remain engraved in our memories forever, not only because of this exceptional encounter, but also thanks to the solidarity of the sailors we were lucky enough to meet, and to all the professionals who helped us throughout this adventure.
A look back at the history of Götheborg
The Götheborg is a 47-meter-long Swedish square-rigged three-master, built between 1992 and 2005 as a replica of an 18th-century indiaman. It is the largest wooden ship still in operation. The original vessel was built in 1738 at Stockholm's Terra Nova docks for the Swedish East India Company. It sank in Gothenburg harbor on September 12, 1745 on its way back from China, after hitting a cliff near Älvsborg. The ship was carrying tea, a large quantity of porcelain and six tons of silver metal. Part of the cargo was salvaged from the wreck in 1745. The wreck was rediscovered in 1984.
Today, it is based in the port of Göteborg, where it is often seen. He also takes part in maritime gatherings. He ships fair-trade products for TOWT (TransOceanic Wind Transport), a company set up in 2009.
