In this publication10 photos
The way to Bornholm. Part 7. Gedser — Heiligenhafen
Planning
28 April 2024. Up at five. Windy promised eleven to seventeen knots westerly. I needed south-west, close-hauled. Fehmarn seemed possible. Savvy Navvy suggested wind farms and a shoal for some reason; I chose a direct route without that risk.
The passage
Sunny, quiet morning. Full sail, boat pressing into the wind, warmth on my face. Close-hauled, taking everything the breeze offered.
A little nervous crossing the TSS, but uneventful. Peaceful sea. Then a familiar ‘pffft’, as though someone exhaled beside me. I turned and couldn’t believe it.
Six porpoises, quick finned shadows, surfaced, leapt and slid along the hull. I went forward: some jumped straight before the stem. Joy flared inside. They stayed over an hour, as though sending me off with fresh energy for the final stretch.
Level with the island, the wind headed me completely. Sails down, engine on. Minutes later, the autopilot died: no signal, no response. Back to the tiller, with hours still ahead. I was mentally pricing a replacement when, ten minutes later, it came back to life. Never found out why.
Near the bridge from the mainland to Fehmarn, I watched an enormous crane slowly being lowered into the water from a barge. A feeling of returning: familiar shores again.
Heiligenhafen
The largest marina I’d ever seen: a thousand berths. I moored between piles at a green vacancy sign. A QR code at the pier end: €20 a night. Paid showers, familiar by now.
Lovely to be back in Germany. Familiar architecture, ways of life, language. An unexpectedly cosy historic resort town, with beach, cafés and restaurants. A leisurely waterfront walk, the centre, a burger at a local bar. Everything invited rest. An unexpected, excellent stop. Heartily recommended.
Covered forty miles in nine hours.
#passage
Planning
28 April 2024. Up at five. Windy promised eleven to seventeen knots westerly. I needed south-west, close-hauled. Fehmarn seemed possible. Savvy Navvy suggested wind farms and a shoal for some reason; I chose a direct route without that risk.
Shipping Forecast
, 28.04.2025, 10.36 UTC
No warnings
Western Baltic: light and variable winds, shifting west to northwest 3 to 4, for a time locally misty, sea 0,5 meter.
The passage
Sunny, quiet morning. Full sail, boat pressing into the wind, warmth on my face. Close-hauled, taking everything the breeze offered.
A little nervous crossing the TSS, but uneventful. Peaceful sea. Then a familiar ‘pffft’, as though someone exhaled beside me. I turned and couldn’t believe it.
Six porpoises, quick finned shadows, surfaced, leapt and slid along the hull. I went forward: some jumped straight before the stem. Joy flared inside. They stayed over an hour, as though sending me off with fresh energy for the final stretch.
Level with the island, the wind headed me completely. Sails down, engine on. Minutes later, the autopilot died: no signal, no response. Back to the tiller, with hours still ahead. I was mentally pricing a replacement when, ten minutes later, it came back to life. Never found out why.
Near the bridge from the mainland to Fehmarn, I watched an enormous crane slowly being lowered into the water from a barge. A feeling of returning: familiar shores again.
Heiligenhafen
The largest marina I’d ever seen: a thousand berths. I moored between piles at a green vacancy sign. A QR code at the pier end: €20 a night. Paid showers, familiar by now.
Lovely to be back in Germany. Familiar architecture, ways of life, language. An unexpectedly cosy historic resort town, with beach, cafés and restaurants. A leisurely waterfront walk, the centre, a burger at a local bar. Everything invited rest. An unexpected, excellent stop. Heartily recommended.
Covered forty miles in nine hours.
#passage
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