Welding_ConnectsLP

8
colleague and me in our bunks. Steeply we went up the
wave crest. Feet first. High up, at the crest of the wave,
the Juvel paused for a split second. As if she was delaying
the unstoppable on the tipping edge. It took courage –
and then, as a mass of several thousand tons of steel,
plunged into the wave canyon. To fall after ten meters
of free fa- Ahhhh! -ll hit the concrete-hard surface of the
water, Wroommm! – while I stayed in my bunk, frozen
stiff with fear. I clung with both hands to the boards on
the side of my thin mattress, while I pursued only one
thought for hours.
I hope the welds withstand!
Wroommm! –
I hope the welds withstand!
Wroommm! –
Which weld defects lay dormant in the hull joints of the
Juvel, how they got in there and how they were covered
up by the quality department just to meet the deadline for
the hull extension, and whether the welds even held back
to the safe harbor of Montevideo, is revealed in the sailor’s
story, We love the Storms, contained in this book. By
the way, I also sang the pirate song of the same name
of the Bündische youth movement 1 , which I learned as a
little scout at the campfire, on that stormy night. I sang
for hours. While outside, in the pitch dark and surrounded
by icebergs, the sea raged, the waves reared up – to sink
the Juvel with its 52 men strong crew. To avenge the billion-fold
death of the defenseless inhabitants of the Arctic
Ocean, to avenge the krill we had caught and pulverized.
Wroommm! –
To be honest, I wasn’t singing because I enjoyed the
ship-like up-and-down movements. No, no. On the contrary!
I sang to drown out the dark voice of my fear. And
to banish the film of revenge and weld failure haunting
my mind:
“We love the storms, the roaring billows
of the ice-cold winds rough face.