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Every outing used to be an event. Now, fewer new impressions: solo berthing and beating upwind have become routine practice. This could have been another ordinary outing, but for an unexpected turn. Friends I hadn’t seen in ages came to visit, and I decided to take them out.
22 October 2024. We began with a tour of Lübeck, Germany’s oldest city, known for marzipan and brick Gothic architecture. Its historic centre is UNESCO-listed, and famous for Café Niederegger, founded in 1806 and one of Germany’s best.
After a briefing, we set off. Following wind, sail straight up, delighted guests. They were surprised how readily the yacht answered the tiller. Golden trees on both banks, hungry swans upended among fallen leaves. At Travemünde, we turned back. I handed the helm to the guests and got absorbed in conversation, then something felt odd. Masha said the yacht seemed to touch bottom. I looked towards shore. Aground.
Reverse first. Not a millimetre of movement. Remembering last year’s experience, I put the tiller hard over and gave her forward throttle. She began rotating. Aimed at mid-river, I prepared to set sail for extra pull, but just then she came free. Surprisingly, the guests hadn’t even noticed the drama.
Lucky, I think: soft mud and a fin keel. I’m sure that manoeuvre wouldn’t work on a long-keeler. Adrenaline was so high I didn’t even check the sounder. My main mistake was leaving its shallow-water alarm unset. That would probably have prevented it.
#notes
22 October 2024. We began with a tour of Lübeck, Germany’s oldest city, known for marzipan and brick Gothic architecture. Its historic centre is UNESCO-listed, and famous for Café Niederegger, founded in 1806 and one of Germany’s best.
After a briefing, we set off. Following wind, sail straight up, delighted guests. They were surprised how readily the yacht answered the tiller. Golden trees on both banks, hungry swans upended among fallen leaves. At Travemünde, we turned back. I handed the helm to the guests and got absorbed in conversation, then something felt odd. Masha said the yacht seemed to touch bottom. I looked towards shore. Aground.
Reverse first. Not a millimetre of movement. Remembering last year’s experience, I put the tiller hard over and gave her forward throttle. She began rotating. Aimed at mid-river, I prepared to set sail for extra pull, but just then she came free. Surprisingly, the guests hadn’t even noticed the drama.
Lucky, I think: soft mud and a fin keel. I’m sure that manoeuvre wouldn’t work on a long-keeler. Adrenaline was so high I didn’t even check the sounder. My main mistake was leaving its shallow-water alarm unset. That would probably have prevented it.
#notes
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