Volume Eight - Pre-Victorian to the present day - more aspects - Pamir and Passat - the end of an era . . .

Desperate, they found that the box containing flares was lost; but fortunately a keg of fresh water was still in the boat. It was extremely cold. Some sailors, with the intention of lightening their apparel to be able to swim better, had removed their trousers and boots; now they were frozen and could not avoid their teeth chattering. Hours later another boat was sighted holding approximately twenty-five members of the crew; but they could not keep close to them and the two craft slowly drifted apart until they lost sight of each other. By mutual agreement, Karl Dümmer, who had been the assistant baker on board, was placed in command. In spite of being only 25 years old, he had been a seaman longest, and moreover was the eldest of the survivors.

When Dümmer was about to pass around a bottle of liquor among the sailors, a large wave snatched it from his hands; simultaneously, the boat turned over for the second time. Once again these unfortunate sailors righted the destroyed boat, their fear increasing as this last pounding by the sea had snatched their keg of fresh water, leaving them prey to thirst.

Evening was now falling and night threw her icy cold mantle over these unfortunate men. Close to midnight, they saw the lights of a ship passing by a few hundred meters away from them. They shouted with all their strength, but their voices did not carry as they were too low in the water, hardly above the surface. Also the darkness of the night made them invisible in the immensity of the ocean. One sailor, Günther Schinngel, in his sleep passed on that night to fly with the errant albatross; Dümmer said a short prayer and then lowered his body into the sea.