In mid-July 1914, Europe’s elite yachtsmen gathered in the small seaside town of Horten for what was to be the last grand celebration of yachting splendour and sportsmanship in the Old world. Though they could not possibly have foreseen it, within weeks friendly rivals on the water were to become the bitterest of enemies on the battlefields of France.

Thus I began my article in CLASSIC BOAT No. 90, December 1995. How did this bizarre situation come about? On 28th June 1914, the heir to the Austrian throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Duchess Sophie, were assassinated on a visit to Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia, which had been annexed by Austria in 1908. The assassins were young Bosnian revolutionaries who dreamt of shaking off Austria and joining independent Serbia to create a wider Yugoslav state, backed by Russia. This dastardly deed sparked off a diplomatic war of nerves. The German Kaiser was shaken to the core, and egged on Austria to deal with Serbia once and for all, even if it was not certain that the Serbian government was implicated. On 5th July he stated that Austria could depend on the full support of Germany, even if it came to a war between Austria-Hungary and Russia. After hurried consultations with his military advisers, the German Emperor left for his annual cruise in the western fjords of Norway, and must have thought the situation was under control; a local punitive expedition was probably what he had in mind.

By the 17th, precautionary measurers of alert had been set in motion in his absence, while in Austria a harsh ultimatum to Serbia had been drafted, but its actual delivery was delayed until the French President had left St. Petersburg, where he was visiting the Tsar. It was finally delivered on 23rd July, with only 48 hours allowed for complete acceptance of the Austrian diktat. The Kaiser left Norway on 25th of July, and arrived back in Kiel too late to stop the escalation. The situation was now out of control; the military took over and ordered full-scale mobilization.

For me, part of the fascination of Europe Week 1914 is that the Norwegians luckily seemed to be completely oblivious to the terrible political pressures which were building up, to unleash war within a fortnight. From the early summer, they had been totally preoccupied with celebrating the 100th jubilee of their constitution. A grand exhibition was still the attraction at Frogner Park (where the Vigelands sculptures now stand) and there was a maritime pavilion more or less opposite the Royal Norwegian Yacht Club (KNS) across the water. The final part of the yachting event would take place nearby, but first the international sailing elite were invited to Horten for four days of races.

Many of you have now seen the silent film, set to music, which I introduced at the gathering of ECYU delegates in February 1997. The main spectacle is undoubtedly the sheer power and grace of the three German Schooners, METEOR IV, HAMBURG II and GERMANIA, followed by the other three metre classes in descending order. We catch a momentary glimpse of the onlookers in the opening scene, and then Sam Eyde on the umpire boat, before the film closes with the long sequence of the garden party at his house on Bygdøy, near Dronningen. Although this film was probably shown in moving picture theatres shortly afterwards, its existence was almost forgotten until in1994 we in KTK managed to get the film restored by the Norwegian Film Institute and converted to videotape. It is not certain that the authors of the two eyewitness accounts which follow ever saw the evidence on film. They looked back across the vale of time, but had the privilege of experiences of the event themselves, one as a reporter, the other as a competitor.

The first testimony is by Aftenposten’s Kristian Anker Olsen. He says that Germany’s impressive participation was the talking point. The German regatta sailors felt that the Emperor was watching them, and that victories at Cowes or Kiel would bring them great prestige. The Lloyd’s register of 1913 shows that the Germans had bought up a great number of international metre boats, mostly from England. He then comments on the races themselves. The first day, without much wind, resulted in a continuos mass of white sail. He compares the boats to ladies in crinolines with wide hoops sweeping the ballroom floor. The wind then got up and the 3 German schooners could show their paces to the delight of the onlookers. The Norwegians could cheer on their own competitor BEDUIN, owned by Sam Eyde, in the prestigious 15-metre class. This boat was a Fife design and originally German owned, whereas ISABEL ALEXANDRA was an Anker boat now sailed by a German! PAMELA and MAUDREY had crossed the North Sea from England, SYMRA was the star in the large 12-metre class, competing against the Swedish ERNA SIGNE and SIBYLLAN, and IERNE from Finland. ASTRID (Sweden) and QUINTA (Norway) were the best boats in the 8-metre class, while MOSQUITO was the best six.

Olaf Ditlev-Simonsen’s account of the event is a small section in his book of memoirs, which are about his life as a young merchant seaman, who succeeded in his ambition to become a ship-owner. The book was written during the dark days of the Second World War. He looks back on a happier time, and places Europe Week on its proper context – a glorious celebration of Norwegian culture during the last hundred years, although he remarks that certain sections of the Labour Movement were more interested in waving their red flags and boycotting King and country.

At Horten, he says that everybody was friends with each other. England’s MAUDREY lay side by side with Germany’s ISABEL ALEXANDRA. The Kaiser, enjoying the respite of his cruise, got the results of each day cabled to his ship, the HOHENZOLLERN. And finally, he emphasizes the role of Sam Eyde who did everything to make the event such a success. It was in fact called "Eyde Woche" by the Germans.

Olaf Ditlev-Simonsen competed with two of his sons on his new 9-metre, VAV, and won his small class convincingly. When panic spread after the outbreak of war in early August, he took the opportunity to purchase ISABEL ALEXANDRA, and found this boat ideal for cruising with his family. I present a cavalcade of family photos showing the Ditlev-Simonsens boats.

The third item of our revisit is a biographical sketch of the host, Sam Eyde. We cannot fully understand why he did so well in this role unless we know a bit about his background. He grew up in Arendal and also had the sea in his veins. He qualified as an engineer in Germany, and became well-known for completing a number of demanding projects, before he concentrated all his energies on developing a new revolutionary product, with his friend Prof. Birkeland – fertiliser, produced form Saltpeter. He founded the largest industrial company in Norway, Norsk Hydro, in 1905.

After the First World War, Eyde was in the Norwegian delegation to Versailles, and later became Minister, the equivalent of Ambassador to Poland. The final years of his working life were not a success, but he found time to write a huge book of memoirs to ensure that he would not be forgotten. A statue was erected to commemorate his role in Norsk Hydro. He died in 1940.

It is a chilling thought that today, nearly 85 years after the fairytale event of Europe Week, which Norway deserved to enjoy without the terrible aftermath which lay in wait for most of the other European nations, the same corner of unrest is still causing us anxiety, and Sarajevo until recently had again been a centre of brutal violence. But surely the present Serbian pressure on Kosovo will not unleash a new world war? (Written in September)

We in KTK have a dream: to invite all the surviving boats from Europe Week 1914, and all the descendants of those families which originally took part, to a new Europe Week in July 2000. Once again we can hope for competitors from Germany. Per Ditlev-Simonsen, the present Mayor of Oslo, who is the grandson of Olaf Ditlev-Simonsen, is keen to hold such an event. We must now set up a proper organization, and get the necessary sponsorship.