In this publication6 photos · 4 videos
Day four. Up at 5.50am. A short distance today: an extra hour’s sleep allowed. The usual routine: three-in-one coffee, granola, milk, flask and kettle, then record the Shipping Forecast.
On deck, I enjoyed a gentle breeze towards the marina exit. Tempting to leave without starting the engine. A couple of minutes’ planning, and I decided to try. We released the bow lines, gently pulled on the stern lines to start moving out, then turned downwind and unfurled a little genoa. In complete silence, we glided past neighbouring boats into the open sea.
Anton went below for an online German lesson. I unfurled the genoa and set our course. West of Langeland is unnerving: shallows and large submerged rocks everywhere. To cut a corner, I crossed one three-metre-deep patch. No incident.
At the fairway, we had to start the engine: the south-easterly was dead ahead, leaving the sails flapping. Near Marstal, swans covered the water. Magnificent. The closer we came, the stronger the smell of smoked fish. Later, Grigory from Meerbär told me the smoking there was among the best he’d encountered.
Unfortunately, the farther we went, the more the wind faded. Anton suggested relaxing in the calm. For nearly four hours, we drifted on a sea like oil. Crisps and Danish apple spritzer, a book for me, then soup and crackers. Yachts kept motoring past towards Bagenkop. That worried me; I decided to follow.
Hardly any berths remained. We found the last three narrow ones, 2.9m wide. Despite the width signs, the machine charged by length. Electricity included, unlimited showers. From the marina tower, we watched arriving yachts search. Some tried to squeeze beside us but couldn’t fit between the piles; some asked to raft alongside neighbours; others left empty-handed.
Not much to do. A village is a village. A beach nearby, though. We visited the Catholic church and ate instant mash with smoked sausages.
Twenty-two miles. Track here.
#passage
29.08.2024, 0306 UTC, Belts and Sound
H1029 from English Channel to Western Baltic Sea
SE veering↻ NW, Bft 4 for a time decreasing⇩ a little
later thundery↯ gust, sea 0.5 meter
On deck, I enjoyed a gentle breeze towards the marina exit. Tempting to leave without starting the engine. A couple of minutes’ planning, and I decided to try. We released the bow lines, gently pulled on the stern lines to start moving out, then turned downwind and unfurled a little genoa. In complete silence, we glided past neighbouring boats into the open sea.
Anton went below for an online German lesson. I unfurled the genoa and set our course. West of Langeland is unnerving: shallows and large submerged rocks everywhere. To cut a corner, I crossed one three-metre-deep patch. No incident.
At the fairway, we had to start the engine: the south-easterly was dead ahead, leaving the sails flapping. Near Marstal, swans covered the water. Magnificent. The closer we came, the stronger the smell of smoked fish. Later, Grigory from Meerbär told me the smoking there was among the best he’d encountered.
Unfortunately, the farther we went, the more the wind faded. Anton suggested relaxing in the calm. For nearly four hours, we drifted on a sea like oil. Crisps and Danish apple spritzer, a book for me, then soup and crackers. Yachts kept motoring past towards Bagenkop. That worried me; I decided to follow.
Hardly any berths remained. We found the last three narrow ones, 2.9m wide. Despite the width signs, the machine charged by length. Electricity included, unlimited showers. From the marina tower, we watched arriving yachts search. Some tried to squeeze beside us but couldn’t fit between the piles; some asked to raft alongside neighbours; others left empty-handed.
Not much to do. A village is a village. A beach nearby, though. We visited the Catholic church and ate instant mash with smoked sausages.
Twenty-two miles. Track here.
#passage
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