E.F. Knight’s Falcon on the Baltic has long been out of print. I don’t know why, for it is a splendid book. In 1886 Knight converted a 30 ft lifeboat into a ketch and the following year he sailed it to Copenhagen. Storms through the May and June obliged him to go via Holland and to seek shelter behind the Frisian islands before dashing over the shoal waters to the Eider and reaching the Baltic at Kiel. Knight was not the first to sail in those parts, but the panache with which he proceeded and his powerful observation and writing impressed a generation, and Erskine Childers drew freely on Knight’s account in writing his famous Riddle of the Sands. The Falcon’s tender was a light, 11 ft dinghy with a lugsail, and Knight used it for local exploration.

One day Falcon was lying at the entrance to Schlei fiord and Knight was glancing at the chart when he was taken by the notion to go in the dinghy to Schleswig at the other end of the fiord. In his own words, from which I have omitted large lumps of general matter:

“As the journey was a long one — nearly sixty miles there and back — it would be necessary to start at day-break, so I made my preparations overnight by boiling hard half a dozen eggs.

“At 3 am, June 22nd, I put the needful stores into the dinghy, the eggs, bread, cheese, a bottle of rum and water, pipes, matches, and plenty of tobacco, a sketchbook and compass, and I did not forget to take a blanket in case I was benighted and had to sleep out.

“The wind no longer howled from the north-west; it had shifted to the south-east and was very light, so that I had to take to the oars. I pulled across the lagoon towards the first narrow, passing several of the Maesholm fishermen in their spritsail boats, with whom I exchanged greetings. The sun was just rising above the horizon as I left the broad water and entered the channel that leads to the town of Cappel. The water was beautifully clear and full of gorgeously coloured jellyfish. On either side were sloping lawns and woods of fir and beech, while picturesque wooden farmhouses with tall thatched roofs peeped out here and there from the rich foliage. It turned out to be a magnificent sunny summer day, so the country looked at its best.

“I pulled away under the hot sun and soon found that a current of some strength was running against me; for, though there is no perceptible tide in the Baltic, a strong wind will bring a current with it and cause the water to rise several feet in the narrow gulfs and sounds.

“I rowed by Cappel, a picturesque old town where the Slei narrows considerably and is traversed by a bridge of boats; by Arnis, where the Prussian troops forced the passage of the fiord in 1864 and routed the Danish army; and then came to the Lange Bredning (‘Bredning’ is the same as East Anglian ‘Broad’), a fine sheet of water, where, the wind freshening, I was able to lay down the oars, set the sail, and admire the scenery at leisure for a time. The village of Slieby looked so pretty and inviting that I landed there and repaired to the inn for some beer. Here I found a lot of merry men, who, as far as I could make out, had just returned from a yeoman’s wedding.

“The jovial farmers insisted on my joining in their carouse, and we attempted conversation, but could not manage it. We could not talk together, but we could drink beer together, and we did so — there again in the love of beer our kinship showed itself; then I dragged myself away from my jovial friends and rowed on again under the hot sun, for I was yet only half-way to Schleswig.

“After travelling for some hours through a succession of delightful scenes I came to the Store Bredning, a lake three miles broad; thence a short strait brought me into the Lille Bredning, a beautiful sheet of water, and there before me at last stood the ancient city of Schleswig. Its situation is exceedingly picturesque; it may be said to consist of one street, upwards of three miles in length, which is carried round a deep bay at the extreme end of the fiord, having for a background the spires of churches and the not beautiful ducal castle of Gottorp.

“I had refreshed myself with sundry snacks of bread and cheese on the way, but my long journey had given me an appetite; so, as it was now two o’clock, before landing in the town, I sailed to a little island, anchored under its shade, and did justice to my hard-boiled eggs. I was surprised to find that this island, notwithstanding its proximity to the city and its distance from the sea, was crowded with seagulls, who appeared to be almost as tame as those birds which dwell on desert islands and are never molested by man.

“I had but little time to explore Schleswig, which is a delightful old town full of historical interest. I visited the old cathedral with its many monuments of kings and dukes, and should liked to have driven to the ruined Danevirke, but I thought of my long pull home and refrained.

“The south-east wind freshened in the afternoon, and, as the current was now with me, I accomplished the thirty miles that divided me from my yacht in much less time than the journey out had occupied. However, there was still some hard pulling to be done, and I did not stop anywhere till I reached Arnis, where a cafe on the beach tempted me to land for beer. Near here I noticed a cutter yacht of about ten tons, which was evidently of English build. Two men were engaged in rigging her; they told me that she was entered for the Kiel regatta, that her owner intended to sail to Kiel the next day, that she was called the Widgeon, and had been purchased at Hamburg from an Englishman thirteen years before. This was somewhat of a coincidence, for I was familiar with the history of this boat, and the book in which her voyage is chronicled was on board the Falcon. If Mr Robinson, the author of The Cruise of the Widgeon, reads these pages he will learn that his old vessel is in good hands, almost as sound as ever, and does not show her years.

“I did not reach the outer lagoon until long after dark. I picked my way with difficulty among the herring stakes, and lost myself several times in the labyrinths of hurdles, which led me into culs de sac amidst the weed-grown shallows — a queer and weird navigation; but at last, shortly after midnight, I found the yacht, and turned in to sleep soundly after my lengthy expedition.”