The passage
From Kiel to Sønderborg
Day one. Up at 4.50am. Water on, three-in-one coffee and instant porridge ready, two boiled eggs on the table. While the kettle boiled, I wrote down the Shipping Forecast.
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Kiel – Sønderborg
Day one. Up at 4.50am. Water on, three-in-one coffee and instant porridge ready, two boiled eggs on the table. While the kettle boiled, I wrote down the Shipping Forecast.
Plenty of wind forecast, though following. Since my 2022 RYA Day Skipper course I’ve had my own sail-configuration rule:
– force 1–3, one to ten knots: spinnaker
– force 4, ten to fifteen knots: full sail
– force 5, fifteen to twenty knots: first reef
– force 6, twenty to twenty-seven knots: second reef
– force 7–8, twenty-seven to forty knots: third reef or storm sails
– force 9, over forty knots: stay home
And after Alexander Guskov’s lecture I know the headsail should be less reefed than the main.
So this time I chose two reefs in the main and one in the genoa.
Places needing attention: traffic off Eckernförde, Kappeln and Sønderborg. Shoals begin near Sønderborg too: watch the cardinal marks.
Little wind in Kiel Bay. Anton went below to study German. In open water, the breeze freshened and we made 5.5–6.5 knots. The reefs seemed right.
The second thing England taught me was a rhythm of feeding the crew. Breakfast at six, departure seven, and at nine I went below for tea and oat bars. At 11.30, I heated tinned Thai soup and filled a tea flask, which we drank from with salted pretzel sticks until arrival. Keep hot tea available so the crew stay warm.
Towards the end, we headed closer to the wind. The anemometer touched 28 knots several times. The autopilot couldn’t cope; I helmed all the way to the marina. Berthed at two.
Forty miles in seven hours. Track here.
#passage
Day one. Up at 4.50am. Water on, three-in-one coffee and instant porridge ready, two boiled eggs on the table. While the kettle boiled, I wrote down the Shipping Forecast.
26.08.2024, 0331 UTC, Western Baltic
H1023 from West Germany moves to Russia
H1024 from Biscay moves to East Germany
SW backing↺ S, Bft 4→5, decreasing⇩ about 3,
locally showers squalls, sea 1 meter
Plenty of wind forecast, though following. Since my 2022 RYA Day Skipper course I’ve had my own sail-configuration rule:
– force 1–3, one to ten knots: spinnaker
– force 4, ten to fifteen knots: full sail
– force 5, fifteen to twenty knots: first reef
– force 6, twenty to twenty-seven knots: second reef
– force 7–8, twenty-seven to forty knots: third reef or storm sails
– force 9, over forty knots: stay home
And after Alexander Guskov’s lecture I know the headsail should be less reefed than the main.
So this time I chose two reefs in the main and one in the genoa.
Places needing attention: traffic off Eckernförde, Kappeln and Sønderborg. Shoals begin near Sønderborg too: watch the cardinal marks.
Little wind in Kiel Bay. Anton went below to study German. In open water, the breeze freshened and we made 5.5–6.5 knots. The reefs seemed right.
The second thing England taught me was a rhythm of feeding the crew. Breakfast at six, departure seven, and at nine I went below for tea and oat bars. At 11.30, I heated tinned Thai soup and filled a tea flask, which we drank from with salted pretzel sticks until arrival. Keep hot tea available so the crew stay warm.
Towards the end, we headed closer to the wind. The anemometer touched 28 knots several times. The autopilot couldn’t cope; I helmed all the way to the marina. Berthed at two.
Forty miles in seven hours. Track here.
#passage
Passage weather
Stopover
Sønderborg on foot
A couple of hours before arrival, I found the marina’s number in Navionics and called: Hello. I'm Andrei Iatsuk, sailing yacht Rassvet. My length overall is 8.8 meters, breadth is 2.7 meters, draught is 1.6 meters, and mast height is 12 meters. ETA is 2 o'clock. Can I book a berth place for tonight? They heard me out and said they didn’t take reservations. The pontoons were almost full. Anton stood forward, looking for green berth signs. We were lucky to find one.
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Sønderborg
A couple of hours before arrival, I found the marina’s number in Navionics and called:
They heard me out and said they didn’t take reservations.
The pontoons were almost full. Anton stood forward, looking for green berth signs. We were lucky to find one. Wind over the bow: easier berthing and a more comfortable cockpit afterwards.
At the payment machine, you could pay by boat length or berth width. I chose length, under thirteen metres. €50. Exploring the menus, I realised a 2.9–3.2m berth would cost at least half as much. Back aboard to attach the paid sticker to the rail, I saw [>3.2<] beside the green square. Every berth has its width marked. Later, I learnt the town quay was cheaper too.
Google Maps directed us to Biltema. We waited at the bus stop. You can pay in euros on the bus; change comes in kroner, lovely coins with holes in the middle.
Biltema was smaller than Kalmar’s, but had everything needed, at far lower prices than Germany. No fenders in the model I wanted, but new sheets: polyester, 24m long, 12mm diameter, with a sewn-in Dyneema eye, for €40! The cheapest equivalent at SVB was €150, typically around €200. The same pattern across the shop.
We ate there too. Honestly, I expected little from a hardware-store café. A burger, potatoes and Coke for 120 DKK. An enormous burger arrived in a beautifully soft bun, covered in meat sauce and fried onions. A boat-shaped dish of potato wedges with any sauces I wanted, and a cup for unlimited drinks. New furniture, huge panoramic windows several storeys high. Very pleased with both shopping and lunch.
A small, cosy town, easily explored on foot. A castle, bike hire. Shops close at five. Unlimited showers and a kitchen at the marina. An excellent stop.
See the day through Anton’s eyes in his post.
#passage
A couple of hours before arrival, I found the marina’s number in Navionics and called:
Hello. I'm Andrei Iatsuk, sailing yacht Rassvet. My length overall is 8.8 meters, breadth is 2.7 meters, draught is 1.6 meters, and mast height is 12 meters. ETA is 2 o'clock. Can I book a berth place for tonight?
They heard me out and said they didn’t take reservations.
The pontoons were almost full. Anton stood forward, looking for green berth signs. We were lucky to find one. Wind over the bow: easier berthing and a more comfortable cockpit afterwards.
At the payment machine, you could pay by boat length or berth width. I chose length, under thirteen metres. €50. Exploring the menus, I realised a 2.9–3.2m berth would cost at least half as much. Back aboard to attach the paid sticker to the rail, I saw [>3.2<] beside the green square. Every berth has its width marked. Later, I learnt the town quay was cheaper too.
Google Maps directed us to Biltema. We waited at the bus stop. You can pay in euros on the bus; change comes in kroner, lovely coins with holes in the middle.
Biltema was smaller than Kalmar’s, but had everything needed, at far lower prices than Germany. No fenders in the model I wanted, but new sheets: polyester, 24m long, 12mm diameter, with a sewn-in Dyneema eye, for €40! The cheapest equivalent at SVB was €150, typically around €200. The same pattern across the shop.
We ate there too. Honestly, I expected little from a hardware-store café. A burger, potatoes and Coke for 120 DKK. An enormous burger arrived in a beautifully soft bun, covered in meat sauce and fried onions. A boat-shaped dish of potato wedges with any sauces I wanted, and a cup for unlimited drinks. New furniture, huge panoramic windows several storeys high. Very pleased with both shopping and lunch.
A small, cosy town, easily explored on foot. A castle, bike hire. Shops close at five. Unlimited showers and a kitchen at the marina. An excellent stop.
See the day through Anton’s eyes in his post.
#passage
The passage
Sønderborg - Faaborg
Day two. Alarm at 5.50am. Boiled eggs, instant porridge, three-in-one coffee. More water in the kettle this time, to fill the flask straight away. Weather entered in the log. 27.08.2024, 0246 UTC, Belts and Sound SW shifting SE later, Bft 3→4, sea 0.5 meter We left at 6.30 under full sail, close-hauled almost directly towards the rising sun. About 4.8 knots. At ten, we rounded Als and changed course. The wind came aft, costing us a whole knot.
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Sønderborg – Fåborg
Day two. Alarm at 5.50am. Boiled eggs, instant porridge, three-in-one coffee. More water in the kettle this time, to fill the flask straight away. Weather entered in the log.
We left at 6.30 under full sail, close-hauled almost directly towards the rising sun. About 4.8 knots. At ten, we rounded Als and changed course.
The wind came aft, costing us a whole knot. We decided to pole out the genoa. It was new to Anton, who struggled to untangle the pole on the foredeck. I checked around, engaged the autopilot and went forward. Cramped with two of us. Concentrating on a jammed shackle, I missed a wave that bounced us slightly. My foot slipped on a rope by the bulwark. I searched for support as the jolt pushed me sideways. My thigh pressed against a guardwire. A fraction of a second later, it snapped, and my legs went overboard. Everything inside tightened. I couldn’t breathe or make a sound. My eyes searched desperately for a handhold as I slid out centimetre by centimetre. Realising I could reach the forestay, I lunged with my right hand. My feet were fully in the sea. I pulled myself up a little, trying to work out how to climb back. By then, Anton seemed to wake from a dream: he grabbed my shoulder and hauled me onto the deck.
Shaking at the knees, I returned to the cockpit. No strength or desire left for the pole. Anton decided to finish it himself. Once fitted, the sail’s shape changed at once, giving us half a knot.
Tinned soup and crackers for lunch.
Approaching Fåborg, I searched carefully for a berth. I didn’t want to pay twice the price because of Danish quirks, as in Sønderborg. I chose the narrowest berth I could find; the hull even scraped the wooden piles. At the machine, we discovered… no width-based pricing here, only length. €32 for our size, with electricity and showers extra.
In town, we ate fresh seafood, visited an interesting natural-history museum, walked an old railway, saw a miniature town, bought provisions at Netto and admired traditional sailing boats along the waterfront. Fish balls with rye bread and remoulade for dinner. Anton’s view of the day is on his channel.
Twenty-nine miles. Track here.
#passage
Day two. Alarm at 5.50am. Boiled eggs, instant porridge, three-in-one coffee. More water in the kettle this time, to fill the flask straight away. Weather entered in the log.
27.08.2024, 0246 UTC, Belts and Sound
SW shifting SE later, Bft 3→4,
sea 0.5 meter
We left at 6.30 under full sail, close-hauled almost directly towards the rising sun. About 4.8 knots. At ten, we rounded Als and changed course.
The wind came aft, costing us a whole knot. We decided to pole out the genoa. It was new to Anton, who struggled to untangle the pole on the foredeck. I checked around, engaged the autopilot and went forward. Cramped with two of us. Concentrating on a jammed shackle, I missed a wave that bounced us slightly. My foot slipped on a rope by the bulwark. I searched for support as the jolt pushed me sideways. My thigh pressed against a guardwire. A fraction of a second later, it snapped, and my legs went overboard. Everything inside tightened. I couldn’t breathe or make a sound. My eyes searched desperately for a handhold as I slid out centimetre by centimetre. Realising I could reach the forestay, I lunged with my right hand. My feet were fully in the sea. I pulled myself up a little, trying to work out how to climb back. By then, Anton seemed to wake from a dream: he grabbed my shoulder and hauled me onto the deck.
Shaking at the knees, I returned to the cockpit. No strength or desire left for the pole. Anton decided to finish it himself. Once fitted, the sail’s shape changed at once, giving us half a knot.
Tinned soup and crackers for lunch.
Approaching Fåborg, I searched carefully for a berth. I didn’t want to pay twice the price because of Danish quirks, as in Sønderborg. I chose the narrowest berth I could find; the hull even scraped the wooden piles. At the machine, we discovered… no width-based pricing here, only length. €32 for our size, with electricity and showers extra.
In town, we ate fresh seafood, visited an interesting natural-history museum, walked an old railway, saw a miniature town, bought provisions at Netto and admired traditional sailing boats along the waterfront. Fish balls with rye bread and remoulade for dinner. Anton’s view of the day is on his channel.
Twenty-nine miles. Track here.
#passage
Passage weather
The passage
To the island of Ørø
Day three. Last night, we studied the charts after Windy forecast a south-easterly. We couldn’t sail to Rudkøbing as originally planned. We agreed to change the route to Ærøskøbing, then Bagenkop, as Marstal was too close. Up at 5.50am. Breakfast had changed: the same three-in-one coffee, but now two bowls for granola and milk. Making a flask of tea with breakfast became a tradition. Shipping Forecast entered in the log.
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Fåborg – Ærøskøbing
Day three. Last night, we studied the charts after Windy forecast a south-easterly. We couldn’t sail to Rudkøbing as originally planned. We agreed to change the route to Ærøskøbing, then Bagenkop, as Marstal was too close.
Up at 5.50am. Breakfast had changed: the same three-in-one coffee, but now two bowls for granola and milk. Making a flask of tea with breakfast became a tradition. Shipping Forecast entered in the log.
Departure at 7.30. One reef in both sails, with the option to unfurl more genoa. Into the wind all day. Fun playing with the mainsheet traveller, judging how far we could turn, competing with other boats on speed and pointing, and squeezing out every little bit of performance.
About halfway, we hove to for lunch: smoked salmon, rye bread and remoulade, made into sandwiches. We drifted towards shore at 1–1.5 knots, so continued after half an hour. Later, I realised we could have deployed the sea anchor.
Into the marina at 2.30pm. Wind up to twenty knots, twisting the yacht round inside the berth. Difficult berthing. Anton tried to put on the stern line; it fell in the water. He looked at it awkwardly, calmly turned and went forward to secure the bow, leaving it sinking. I didn’t know how to react: the engine was still in slow ahead and could catch the rope. I asked him to retrieve it before going forward.
Ærøskøbing was fantastically beautiful, historic and compact. Unlimited showers and Wi-Fi in the marina. Beside the showers, a twenty-hole minigolf course; a ball cost just a couple of euros at the nearby bar.
Smoked herring and potato salad at a nearby restaurant for dinner. I spent the rest of the evening reading.
Twenty-seven miles. Track here.
#passage
Day three. Last night, we studied the charts after Windy forecast a south-easterly. We couldn’t sail to Rudkøbing as originally planned. We agreed to change the route to Ærøskøbing, then Bagenkop, as Marstal was too close.
Up at 5.50am. Breakfast had changed: the same three-in-one coffee, but now two bowls for granola and milk. Making a flask of tea with breakfast became a tradition. Shipping Forecast entered in the log.
28.08.2024, 0321 UTC, Belts and Sound
SE, Bft 3→4, for a time increasing a little,
sea 1 meter
Departure at 7.30. One reef in both sails, with the option to unfurl more genoa. Into the wind all day. Fun playing with the mainsheet traveller, judging how far we could turn, competing with other boats on speed and pointing, and squeezing out every little bit of performance.
About halfway, we hove to for lunch: smoked salmon, rye bread and remoulade, made into sandwiches. We drifted towards shore at 1–1.5 knots, so continued after half an hour. Later, I realised we could have deployed the sea anchor.
Into the marina at 2.30pm. Wind up to twenty knots, twisting the yacht round inside the berth. Difficult berthing. Anton tried to put on the stern line; it fell in the water. He looked at it awkwardly, calmly turned and went forward to secure the bow, leaving it sinking. I didn’t know how to react: the engine was still in slow ahead and could catch the rope. I asked him to retrieve it before going forward.
Ærøskøbing was fantastically beautiful, historic and compact. Unlimited showers and Wi-Fi in the marina. Beside the showers, a twenty-hole minigolf course; a ball cost just a couple of euros at the nearby bar.
Smoked herring and potato salad at a nearby restaurant for dinner. I spent the rest of the evening reading.
Twenty-seven miles. Track here.
#passage
Passage weather
The passage
Ørøskøbing - Bagenkop
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. 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.
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Ærøskøbing – Bagenkop
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
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.
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
Passage weather
The passage
Back to Germany: Grömitz
Day five. Windy showed little wind, disappearing by evening. Worse, almost none for the next two days. Night breezes were our only hope. I set an alarm for 3.50am to make the most of one, then slept through until five. Breakfast underway instead.
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Bagenkop – Grömitz
Day five. Windy showed little wind, disappearing by evening. Worse, almost none for the next two days. Night breezes were our only hope. I set an alarm for 3.50am to make the most of one, then slept through until five. Breakfast underway instead.
Shipping Forecast promised a steady force 4. I looked from it to Windy. One of them was lying. Or the Shipping Forecast meant overnight.
Six o’clock. Departure, with about four other crews. Langeland astern, onto our course. Eight knots on the anemometer, 3.8 on the log. We decided on the pole. Anton enthusiastically volunteered to do it all himself. With the genoa poled out, another half-knot.
Granola and milk for breakfast while I explained repacking the spinnaker in the saloon. Forehatch open, genoa furled, guys and spinnaker halyard passed down the hatch to attach to the sail corners. Once ready, a quick hoist. Another half-knot. By then, every yacht around had a spinnaker up.
Even crossing the Baltic between Denmark and Germany, we never lost sight of land on both sides at once. Under spinnaker, we made excellent progress, catching the boats ahead. One particularly interested me: I was sure it was the all-women crew that had left Bagenkop twenty minutes before us. We caught them in German waters near Fehmarn. To my surprise, an older man helmed. Not a woman in sight. A pair of porpoises escorted us ahead of the bow instead.
Noon. Anton suggested carrying on. Fine by me. We passed beneath the bridge under spinnaker. With a favourable current, nearly six knots, overtaking everyone around. Such a pleasure: the number on the wind instrument matched the boat speed on the log.
At six, we anchored off Grömitz and tested the holding in reverse. Instant mash, smoked sausage and crackers for dinner. We agreed to leave at ten that night: a night breeze might get us to Lübeck before the calm. Alarm set; bed.
Forty-seven miles. Track here.
#passage
Day five. Windy showed little wind, disappearing by evening. Worse, almost none for the next two days. Night breezes were our only hope. I set an alarm for 3.50am to make the most of one, then slept through until five. Breakfast underway instead.
Shipping Forecast promised a steady force 4. I looked from it to Windy. One of them was lying. Or the Shipping Forecast meant overnight.
30.08.2024, 02 GZ, Western Baltic
NW, Bft 4, backing↺ W, decreasing⇩ to light later
on East locally showers⛆ squals
Six o’clock. Departure, with about four other crews. Langeland astern, onto our course. Eight knots on the anemometer, 3.8 on the log. We decided on the pole. Anton enthusiastically volunteered to do it all himself. With the genoa poled out, another half-knot.
Granola and milk for breakfast while I explained repacking the spinnaker in the saloon. Forehatch open, genoa furled, guys and spinnaker halyard passed down the hatch to attach to the sail corners. Once ready, a quick hoist. Another half-knot. By then, every yacht around had a spinnaker up.
Even crossing the Baltic between Denmark and Germany, we never lost sight of land on both sides at once. Under spinnaker, we made excellent progress, catching the boats ahead. One particularly interested me: I was sure it was the all-women crew that had left Bagenkop twenty minutes before us. We caught them in German waters near Fehmarn. To my surprise, an older man helmed. Not a woman in sight. A pair of porpoises escorted us ahead of the bow instead.
Noon. Anton suggested carrying on. Fine by me. We passed beneath the bridge under spinnaker. With a favourable current, nearly six knots, overtaking everyone around. Such a pleasure: the number on the wind instrument matched the boat speed on the log.
At six, we anchored off Grömitz and tested the holding in reverse. Instant mash, smoked sausage and crackers for dinner. We agreed to leave at ten that night: a night breeze might get us to Lübeck before the calm. Alarm set; bed.
Forty-seven miles. Track here.
#passage
Passage weather
The passage
Night miles to Lübeck
Evening of day five. Awake at ten. Sailing clothes on, anchor alarm checked again. Windy forecast four to nine knots from the north-east. We recovered and stowed the anchor. Fireworks rose from the town waterfront. We watched happily, as though they were celebrating our voyage. Engine on. Main and genoa set. Onto our course. Cold, starry night. A light mist lay over the water.
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Grömitz – Lübeck
Evening of day five. Awake at ten. Sailing clothes on, anchor alarm checked again. Windy forecast four to nine knots from the north-east.
We recovered and stowed the anchor. Fireworks rose from the town waterfront. We watched happily, as though they were celebrating our voyage. Engine on. Main and genoa set. Onto our course.
Cold, starry night. A light mist lay over the water. Navigation was easy: a tall building in Travemünde, topped by a signal light, became our guiding beacon. Anton dozed, occasionally checking I was still at the tiller. Heat pads stuck to my socks kept the cold at bay. One of the best defences against cold; I’d recommend them to any sailor.
The wind followed us all the way to Travemünde, then met us head-on in the Trave. Sails furled, engine on. Halfway to the marina, a lone comet briefly lit the sky fiery orange. Then the wind died completely, turning the river into a mirror of the sky. Berthed at four. Bed.
Nineteen miles. Track here.
Day six. Awake at eleven. Washed, cleaned the yacht, packed. Lunch at one at the local restaurant: coffee and schnitzel with chips and pepper sauce for me. Goodbyes, then separate ways: me to Kiel, Anton to Hamburg.
I loved this expedition: 183 miles and so many impressions of Denmark. We seemed to try everything: every point of sail, squeezing out speed, manual steering and autopilot, cooking in a seaway, poling out genoa and spinnaker, heaving to, anchoring, drifting in calm and beating into thirty knots. I’m grateful to Anton for his company, willingness to tackle any job and enthusiasm for any adventure. Alone, I’d have had half the experience.
I managed to put the material together into a video I’d like to share:
• YouTube
• VK Video
• Dzen
The full route is in the logbook
#passage
Evening of day five. Awake at ten. Sailing clothes on, anchor alarm checked again. Windy forecast four to nine knots from the north-east.
We recovered and stowed the anchor. Fireworks rose from the town waterfront. We watched happily, as though they were celebrating our voyage. Engine on. Main and genoa set. Onto our course.
Cold, starry night. A light mist lay over the water. Navigation was easy: a tall building in Travemünde, topped by a signal light, became our guiding beacon. Anton dozed, occasionally checking I was still at the tiller. Heat pads stuck to my socks kept the cold at bay. One of the best defences against cold; I’d recommend them to any sailor.
The wind followed us all the way to Travemünde, then met us head-on in the Trave. Sails furled, engine on. Halfway to the marina, a lone comet briefly lit the sky fiery orange. Then the wind died completely, turning the river into a mirror of the sky. Berthed at four. Bed.
Nineteen miles. Track here.
Day six. Awake at eleven. Washed, cleaned the yacht, packed. Lunch at one at the local restaurant: coffee and schnitzel with chips and pepper sauce for me. Goodbyes, then separate ways: me to Kiel, Anton to Hamburg.
I loved this expedition: 183 miles and so many impressions of Denmark. We seemed to try everything: every point of sail, squeezing out speed, manual steering and autopilot, cooking in a seaway, poling out genoa and spinnaker, heaving to, anchoring, drifting in calm and beating into thirty knots. I’m grateful to Anton for his company, willingness to tackle any job and enthusiasm for any adventure. Alone, I’d have had half the experience.
I managed to put the material together into a video I’d like to share:
• YouTube
• VK Video
• Dzen
The full route is in the logbook
#passage
Passage weather