We continued in a northerly direction until February 5th, when we again met the Wolf, and owing to the bomb incident, sixteen additional Germans were sent on board with their side arms and clothing—but no additional food was sent with them. We now had eighty-two souls on board the Igotz Mendi all told. Lieutenant Wolf, division lieutenant of the Wolf, was also sent on board to assist Rose. Lieutenant Wolf took over the control of the food and the cook's department, and made an honest effort to better things, which did improve somewhat, at least to the extent that on bean meals we frequently got all we wanted; but he was also the inventor of a weird concoction known as "Billposter's paste" and for this last crime I will never forgive him. Otherwise he was a decent and fair-minded officer. After his arrival, favouritism was abolished and we all got a square deal.
On February 6th the Wolf left us and was never seen again by any of us. We then started to go around the northern end of Iceland, but met ice and were forced back. We ran south for a couple of days and waited around to see if the Wolf made it or not, and as she did not return, we concluded she had either got through or passed to the southward of Iceland, chancing the blockade. The cold here was very intense and caused a lot of suffering amongst us. Helped by some of the German sailors, I fixed a place in an empty bunker, where my wife, Nita and myself practically lived, only going in the cabin for meals and to sleep. Lieutenant Rose had canvas put up here for us and lights put in so that I could lie there and read, and the wife could sit and sew. Nita of course enjoyed the comparative warmth. The only drawback was that the air was full of fine coal dust and gas from the fire room, and we used to get frightfully dirty.
On February 12th we again tried to get to the northward of Iceland, but again met ice and had to return. Rose was forced to go to the southward of Iceland, as he could not waste any more time, since the supply of drinking water was getting very low.
Now that we were about to actually enter the blockade zone, our hopes commenced to rise. I heard nothing from my fellow prisoners for the past six months but: "Just wait until they try to run the British blockade." I heard this so often that I got to believe it and used to figure the only chance the Germans had to get through was if it was foggy weather, and then if he was lucky he might slip through.
We ran the blockade between the Faroes and Iceland in fine clear weather, and did not even see any smoke. So I commenced to think that it was quite possible, it being winter, that the British weren't paying much attention to this particular spot and were keeping cases on the Norwegian Coast, especially in that district around the Naze at the southern extremity of Norway. On the night of February 18th we received a wireless from Berlin that the Wolf had arrived safely and on February 19th we picked up the Norwegian Coast, some sixty miles north of Bergen. From here we proceeded down the coast, bucking a heavy head wind and sea, at about five knots per hour, passing inside the light on the island outside Stavanger, and thence down the coast and around the Naze. During this time it was fine and clear weather, and a cruiser could have seen us at twenty miles distance easily; but the only vessels we saw were a Stavanger pilot boat and a Danish passenger vessel bound northward. We were a disgusted bunch and no mistake. For myself, I was sore; I was afraid to speak to anybody. Here I had been kidding myself and letting others kid me that when I got this far, somebody would surely pick me up. And then to come down this coast in beautiful clear weather and not even see anything resembling a patrol boat was very disappointing to say the least.
From here on all I could see ahead of me was the Gates of Germany and the certainty of spending from one to five years a hungry prisoner in a Teuton detention camp. I would have sold out cheap at this time, believe me. By this time I had given up all hopes of getting free and had reconciled myself to going to Germany.... If it had not been for the family I would have jumped overboard and had a swim for neutral land at some place when we passed fairly close.
The following day while crossing from Norway to the northern end of Denmark, Jutland, it set in foggy and Lieutenant Rose was strutting around with a smile on his mug, saying: "Just the weather I want; made to order; I am all right now." I didn't argue the point with him, as I thought he was right. About 3.30 in the afternoon we picked up a fog whistle ahead, of the character we call a "blatter" on the Pacific Coast. I was standing on deck just under the bridge, talking to Rose. I nodded my head toward the signal and asked him what it was, and he said: "Oh, that is the lightship." I thought at the time it was a peculiar character for a lightship, but dismissed the thought, thinking, "different ships, different fashions."
Rose had told the British Colonel that this signal was a German torpedo boat with which he had arranged a meeting, and that the Colonel had gone inside to tell the rest of the prisoner passengers, which would give them all a scare. He also suggested that I should go inside and tell them it was a U-boat, and that I recognised the sound of her signal. I laughed, and told him I had made so many remarks regarding the blockade that I was afraid to speak to them. Shortly after this I went into my cabin and was standing looking out of the port-hole and talking to my wife, when I noticed that we had altered our course, by the bearing of the fog signal, and knew that Rose wanted to pass the lightship close aboard. Suddenly I felt the vessel smell the bottom. I looked at the wife and said: "Holy Poker! I thought I felt her smell the bottom." No sooner had I said this than the Igotz Mendi ran slap bang on the beach, about 350 yards off shore and less than half mile away from the lighthouse.
Rose's mistaking the lighthouse signal for the lightship's signal was a lucky piece of business for us because I knew for an absolute certainty when I felt the Igotz Mendi had taken the beach that it would require the assistance of a powerful tug to get her off again. I guess we all realised just how much this stranding meant to us, and the very nearness of freedom kept everybody quiet and busy with his own thoughts and plans. I know that for one I had decided to get over the side and swim for it, provided the vessel should give any indications of getting off the beach.
Right after the stranding, the weather being foggy, we were allowed on deck. One of the neutral sailors, a Dane named Jensen, identified the spot where we were ashore and gave me the good news that the little town of Skagen was only about two miles distant, and that one of the best life-saving crews in Europe was stationed there. Sure enough, in about an hour a life-boat drew up alongside. We were all chased inside again. Rose invited the Captain of the life-boat on board, and took him into the chart room just above the saloon for a drink and talk. Our lady prisoners immediately commenced playing a game of "button, button, who's got the button?" laughing and talking at the top of their voices, so that this man on top of the saloon would know that there were women on board. Also little Nita did a crying act that could be heard, I am sure. Shortly Rose came down with a blank scowl on his face and said: "You people can cut out the noise now, as the stranger has gone ashore."