On June 13, 1936, the German Navy launched a steel-hulled tall ship at the Blohm & Voss shipyard in Hamburg while Adolf Hitler and other Nazi officials looked on. The 295-foot long ship was one of five such vessels the Nazi regime commissioned to “circumvent the military restrictions imposed by the Treaty of Versailles, using maritime training as a front to quietly rebuild naval strength,” as Will Sofrin’s new book notes. The Germans named the ship the Horst Wessel, after the man who wrote the lyrics for the Nazi anthem and was treated as a martyr after his killing in 1930. After Hitler’s death and the regime’s surrender in 1945, Allied officials began dividing up the German fleet among the victors. The superintendent of the U.S. Coast Guard Academy suggested obtaining Horst Wessel as a sail training ship for the academy’s cadets. Eighty years later, the Eagle will be leading the parade of tall ships from around the world sailing up the Hudson River — as it did for the 1976 bicentennial — to mark America’s 250th anniversary. Sofrin told me he’ll be on board for the occasion. The ship not only trains Coast Guard cadets, but serves as an ambassador for the United States around the world. Sofrin tells the story in his new book, USCG Cutter Eagle: The Legacy of the Coast Guard’s Flagship, published by Lyons Press. As noted in my conversation with Will, the book weaves in the stories of officers and rank and file members of the Coast Guard who have served on the Eagle. When the U.S. acquired the ship, it needed major repairs and a new engine. It also was short of the crew required to take it from Bremerhaven to the U.S., so its commander had to sail with many German crew members. Upon arrival, they were transferred to a prisoner of war camp and returned to Europe. On the final leg of the journey, from Bermuda to New York, a storm brought 60-knot winds and huge seas. As Sofrin recounted, the ship’s commander Gordon McGowan described the sound of the storm: “There was the sharp tearing sound—the ripping of the fabric of the gates of hell. . . . This tapestry of sound bore the pattern of maniacal majesty.” The fore upper and lower topsails were the first to go. They exploded in a flash, leaving ribbons streaming. The ship hit 16 knots at this point…the fastest the ship had ever gone. This speed was estimated based on their observations of the prop shaft’s revolutions when the clutch was released—something they had studied on the voyage. At this point, the foresail and main upper topsail blew out. The mainsail and main lower topsail held. Sofrin describes the risky maneuvers that were needed that day to keep the ship from disaster on its maiden voyage as the Eagle. Sofrin’s book includes a history of the Coast Guard, which traces its roots back to the U.S. fleet of revenue cutters used to collect tariffs during the time of President George Washington. With this antecedent, the Coast Guard is even older than the U.S. Navy. Why does the Coast Guard have a tall ship more than 150 years after the end of the Age of Sail? Sofrin explains: Sail training holds a vital place in the US Coast Guard and other military maritime forces around the world. Rooted in centuries of tradition, it is more than just a means of teaching seamanship; it also serves as a crucible for developing discipline, risk assessment management, teamwork, and leadership. Operating a sailing vessel demands precise coordination, clear communication, and a deep understanding of natural forces and human limitations. These challenges forge proficiencies in cadets and officers that translate directly into their roles aboard modern vessels. For the Coast Guard, sail training aboard Eagle is a rite of passage, instilling respect for the sea and seamanship principles that remain relevant. Life on the Eagle has changed significantly since June, 1976, when the first women cadets were admitted to the Academy. In 1980, 14 women were in the graduating class, along with 140 men. In 1984, several women played key roles in preserving lives when the Eagle was almost knocked down. A storm front struck it during a race of tall ships heading from Bermuda to Halifax, Nova Scotia; remarkably no one was killed aboard Eagle in that episode. The ship righted itself and suffered no damage. Several hours later, a squall capsized the 115-foot British ship Marques. The tall ship sank within a minute. Only nine of the 28 people on board survived. The Eagle has become a symbol of the United States. It sailed to Australia for that nation’s 1988 Bicentenary and to St. Petersburg, in Russia, in 1996. Presidents and world leaders have come aboard. But perhaps the most notable visitor mentioned in the book was a singer and songwriter. The captain of the Eagle, Ivan Luke, “had long been a devoted ‘Parrothead,’ a nickname famously associated with die-hard fans of Jimmy Buffett, his music, and his easygoing, tropical lifestyle,” wrote Sofrin. “From the moment Captain Luke took command of Eagle, he set his sights on a personal goal: to get Jimmy Buffett aboard the ship…After years of reaching out, Luke finally succeeded in bringing Buffett aboard. It was a surreal and meaningful moment for the captain, as he blended his love of the sea with the soundtrack that had accompanied much of his sailing life.” Buffett sailed on Eagle on a short loop from Salem, Massachusetts around Cape Cod. Aboard with his son, Buffett worked the lines, took part in drills and dined with the crew as well as in the officer’s mess. Buffett’s grandfather, James Delaney Buffett, had been a steamship captain out of Newfoundland and was a big influence on Jimmy. So when Buffett joined the Eagle’s captain (on harmonica) and a seaman (on guitar) for a jam session, they sang, among other songs, “Son of a Son of a Sailor.” This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.nowitshistory.com/subscribe
