In this publication10 photos
Back to Lübeck. Part 1. Kiel — Heiligenhafen
Preparing for the passage
This winter, my boat would spend her final months on the Trave, halfway to Lübeck. So I planned the return in early October.
In Vadim Luppo’s sailing chat, I noticed a man newly arrived in Germany. No sea experience, dreaming of buying a yacht. It sounded wildly adventurous; I invited him aboard as a passenger to compare romance with reality.
Planning
Monday, 6 October. Fifty-knot storms over the weekend, easing by Monday noon. Simple plan: leave eleven, offshore twelve, Heiligenhafen by evening. I wanted daylight arrival. A year ago, around the same dates, I’d been too cold to helm or stay in the cockpit, even in several layers.
A broad reach up to twenty knots, easing later. Full genoa, no main: downwind, the main would only blanket the headsail.
Departure
I arrived at ten. David got stuck in traffic, arriving at two. A telling-off for form’s sake, then departure. After freezing on the spring Bornholm trip, I’d bought €65 heated thermals on AliExpress, powered by a power bank. Test time. Wind eighteen knots, air 12°C, water 11°C. Comfortable even on minimum heat.
Six knots, lively progress. David took the tiller, apparently feeling the wind’s power for the first time. Twenty-five degrees of heel in gusts: tense at first, then smiling. I explained sails and keel; he listened without blinking.
The Baltic after the North Sea
At five, the Todendorf. exercise area. Normally a detour, but open by then. Lucky. After the North Sea the Baltic felt a quiet lake. Calm, predictable, almost kindly.
Moon and seasickness
At seven, the sun gave way to an enormous, nearly full moon. Silver water, glittering waves, a road of light round the boat. The breeze grew warm, as though evening were apologising for the cold day.
David stared silently ahead. ‘I feel sick.’ Minutes later, his resolve to become a sailor weakened. On we went: me enjoying soft wind and night peace, him feeding the fish and reassessing maritime freedom.
Heiligenhafen
At eleven, Heiligenhafen. Long, narrow entry, unlit buoys. Leading lights only; I aligned them in total darkness. Relief at berthing. €20 by QR code, shower, straight to bed.
A rest day followed. Small, cosy town. I wandered the waterfront looking at yachts; David unexpectedly made borscht. The first aboard my boat, perhaps my first post-passage meal that felt homemade rather than tinned meat.
#passage
Preparing for the passage
This winter, my boat would spend her final months on the Trave, halfway to Lübeck. So I planned the return in early October.
In Vadim Luppo’s sailing chat, I noticed a man newly arrived in Germany. No sea experience, dreaming of buying a yacht. It sounded wildly adventurous; I invited him aboard as a passenger to compare romance with reality.
Planning
Monday, 6 October. Fifty-knot storms over the weekend, easing by Monday noon. Simple plan: leave eleven, offshore twelve, Heiligenhafen by evening. I wanted daylight arrival. A year ago, around the same dates, I’d been too cold to helm or stay in the cockpit, even in several layers.
A broad reach up to twenty knots, easing later. Full genoa, no main: downwind, the main would only blanket the headsail.
Departure
I arrived at ten. David got stuck in traffic, arriving at two. A telling-off for form’s sake, then departure. After freezing on the spring Bornholm trip, I’d bought €65 heated thermals on AliExpress, powered by a power bank. Test time. Wind eighteen knots, air 12°C, water 11°C. Comfortable even on minimum heat.
Six knots, lively progress. David took the tiller, apparently feeling the wind’s power for the first time. Twenty-five degrees of heel in gusts: tense at first, then smiling. I explained sails and keel; he listened without blinking.
The Baltic after the North Sea
At five, the Todendorf. exercise area. Normally a detour, but open by then. Lucky. After the North Sea the Baltic felt a quiet lake. Calm, predictable, almost kindly.
Moon and seasickness
At seven, the sun gave way to an enormous, nearly full moon. Silver water, glittering waves, a road of light round the boat. The breeze grew warm, as though evening were apologising for the cold day.
David stared silently ahead. ‘I feel sick.’ Minutes later, his resolve to become a sailor weakened. On we went: me enjoying soft wind and night peace, him feeding the fish and reassessing maritime freedom.
Heiligenhafen
At eleven, Heiligenhafen. Long, narrow entry, unlit buoys. Leading lights only; I aligned them in total darkness. Relief at berthing. €20 by QR code, shower, straight to bed.
A rest day followed. Small, cosy town. I wandered the waterfront looking at yachts; David unexpectedly made borscht. The first aboard my boat, perhaps my first post-passage meal that felt homemade rather than tinned meat.
#passage
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