The passage
Kiel - Sønderborg
Ask sailors what takes most time: repairs. Remove that answer, and planning comes next. Grigory and I can plan. Two years planning a drive to Danish Biltema for affordable boat bits. By May, another failed car trip. Logical owners’ solution: sail to the shop. Thursday, 14 May 2026, four in the morning, Kiel towards Denmark. Textbook forecast: westerly eight to fourteen knots.
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A food-loving flotilla in Denmark. Part 1. Kiel → Sønderborg
Ask sailors what takes most time: repairs. Remove that answer, and planning comes next.
Grigory and I can plan. Two years planning a drive to Danish Biltema for affordable boat bits. By May, another failed car trip. Logical owners’ solution: sail to the shop.
Thursday, 14 May 2026, four in the morning, Kiel towards Denmark. Textbook forecast: westerly eight to fourteen knots.
Longer doesn’t always leave first
A quiet assumption: Rassvet is almost two metres longer than Meerbär so I might pull ahead. VHF sixty-nine; Grigory even suggested I could light the barbecue before he arrived.
Reality disagreed. Rather than ahead, slightly behind. No race, but I trimmed as carefully as I knew, at my best speed. Over twenty-four hours, perhaps an hour’s difference.
A useful lesson. Length matters, alongside displacement, hull shape, bottom condition, sails, wind angle and strength. Perhaps more performance to learn from my boat; perhaps three-tonne Rassvet needs more breeze.
Radio pleasures
Radio chatter sounded more S.T.A.L.K.E.R. expedition than hardware-store shopping.
The fjord and a decision already obsolete
Inside Flensburg Fjord, farther west meant tacking. Wind died, large cloud ahead. Forty minutes at normal speed to the marina could become two and a half hours under sail.
I called Meerbär to say I’d furl and motor. Sensible until I furled the genoa, started, and met eighteen knots dead ahead.
Replan: a little north, some genoa again, nearly six knots. Best stretch instead of dreary motoring. Forty-two miles, nine hours, Sønderborg.
Biltema, Bøfsandwich and boat economics
Adjacent berths, walked to Biltema. First essential: Bøfsandwich, a Danish beef burger drowned in thick gravy. Neat eating impossible; I stopped pretending and accepted local rules.
Nearly €200 each shopping. A €150 bow platform particularly hurt; mine cost €300. Planning sometimes saves money, sometimes shows how much you overpaid.
Denmark means barbecue
Back with the satisfaction of a completed expedition. Grigory explained Denmark’s marina barbecue areas, marinated meat, fresh bread, vegetables and charcoal.
No more shopping: he’d brought charcoal and two beef steaks. Simple end: boats together, forty-two miles, purchases in cockpits, and dinner making the Biltema plan even more convincing.
#passage
Ask sailors what takes most time: repairs. Remove that answer, and planning comes next.
Grigory and I can plan. Two years planning a drive to Danish Biltema for affordable boat bits. By May, another failed car trip. Logical owners’ solution: sail to the shop.
Thursday, 14 May 2026, four in the morning, Kiel towards Denmark. Textbook forecast: westerly eight to fourteen knots.
Longer doesn’t always leave first
A quiet assumption: Rassvet is almost two metres longer than Meerbär so I might pull ahead. VHF sixty-nine; Grigory even suggested I could light the barbecue before he arrived.
Reality disagreed. Rather than ahead, slightly behind. No race, but I trimmed as carefully as I knew, at my best speed. Over twenty-four hours, perhaps an hour’s difference.
A useful lesson. Length matters, alongside displacement, hull shape, bottom condition, sails, wind angle and strength. Perhaps more performance to learn from my boat; perhaps three-tonne Rassvet needs more breeze.
Radio pleasures
Radio chatter sounded more S.T.A.L.K.E.R. expedition than hardware-store shopping.
‘Rassvet, Rassvet, this is Meerbär, over.’
‘Meerbär, Rassvet, over.’
‘Rassvet, an area to avoid begins in two miles, over.’
‘Meerbär, understood, altering to three-five-zero, out.’
The fjord and a decision already obsolete
Inside Flensburg Fjord, farther west meant tacking. Wind died, large cloud ahead. Forty minutes at normal speed to the marina could become two and a half hours under sail.
I called Meerbär to say I’d furl and motor. Sensible until I furled the genoa, started, and met eighteen knots dead ahead.
Replan: a little north, some genoa again, nearly six knots. Best stretch instead of dreary motoring. Forty-two miles, nine hours, Sønderborg.
Biltema, Bøfsandwich and boat economics
Adjacent berths, walked to Biltema. First essential: Bøfsandwich, a Danish beef burger drowned in thick gravy. Neat eating impossible; I stopped pretending and accepted local rules.
Nearly €200 each shopping. A €150 bow platform particularly hurt; mine cost €300. Planning sometimes saves money, sometimes shows how much you overpaid.
Denmark means barbecue
Back with the satisfaction of a completed expedition. Grigory explained Denmark’s marina barbecue areas, marinated meat, fresh bread, vegetables and charcoal.
No more shopping: he’d brought charcoal and two beef steaks. Simple end: boats together, forty-two miles, purchases in cockpits, and dinner making the Biltema plan even more convincing.
#passage
Passage weather
The passage
Before Marstal
15 May 2026, 8.30am, east from Sønderborg to Marstal. Southerly to twenty-five knots. Genoa alone. If stronger, bear away, unload, furl a little, return to course with less sail. Less light-air speed, more calm in gusts: the day’s compromise. Grigory chose the same, but I pulled ahead. Rassvet easily reached six knots on course. Meerbär made 4.5 under genoa alone. Radio: he’d add a first-reef main. Ten or fifteen minutes later, AIS showed Meerbär at 6.4 under both.
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A food-loving flotilla in Denmark. Part 2. Sønderborg → Marstal
15 May 2026, 8.30am, east from Sønderborg to Marstal. Southerly to twenty-five knots. Genoa alone.
If stronger, bear away, unload, furl a little, return to course with less sail. Less light-air speed, more calm in gusts: the day’s compromise.
Grigory chose the same, but I pulled ahead. Rassvet easily reached six knots on course. Meerbär made 4.5 under genoa alone. Radio: he’d add a first-reef main. Ten or fifteen minutes later, AIS showed Meerbär at 6.4 under both.
Yesterday’s comparison continued. The longer boat couldn’t lead yesterday, then sailed too well today until the other added a main.
Starboard tack, a free hand
A 1.5m beam sea quickly told my stomach it was participating fully. Face to wind, food temporarily uninteresting.
Close-hauled on starboard: port-tack yachts should give way. Ten approached along Ærø; hard to know whether they saw us or intended to. Free hand beside the autopilot. Right of way helps only when both understand it alike.
When the stern starts steering
At the island’s tip, north-east towards Marstal. Better wind, waves now astern swinging the bow. Autopilot managing less confidently. I took the tiller to work the waves and prevent yawing.
An autopilot helps within its limits. With the stern wandering, sometimes taking over is quicker than waiting for electronics to understand.
Golden rapeseed fields and huge turbines ashore in bright sun. Views snatched between waves, course and tiller.
A flotilla without formation
We’d agreed only departure time and destination. Each made decisions independently.
I regularly watched Meerbär on AIS: speed, wind angles, course changes, gust and wave responses. Tracks sometimes matched; different decisions sometimes produced almost identical outcomes.
More useful than speed comparisons. Another boat gives a live reference: lost speed, sail reduced early, or differences existing only in the owner’s mind.
Marstal and a pause
Thirty miles, five and a half hours. Two days in Marstal awaiting adverse southerlies to 34 knots. ‘Sail to the shop’ became Danish travel with a household excuse.
Straight to ice cream: three flavours in a cone, soft ice cream above, cinnamon on top. After the beam sea, almost medical rehabilitation.
Town, waterfront, rainbow, less-friendly waves, bagful of local food. Church and cemetery. Dinner: buckwheat, sausages, fresh tomatoes and biscuits supposedly supplied to the royal family.
After thirty miles, a legitimate form of royal participation in the voyage.
#passage
15 May 2026, 8.30am, east from Sønderborg to Marstal. Southerly to twenty-five knots. Genoa alone.
If stronger, bear away, unload, furl a little, return to course with less sail. Less light-air speed, more calm in gusts: the day’s compromise.
Grigory chose the same, but I pulled ahead. Rassvet easily reached six knots on course. Meerbär made 4.5 under genoa alone. Radio: he’d add a first-reef main. Ten or fifteen minutes later, AIS showed Meerbär at 6.4 under both.
Yesterday’s comparison continued. The longer boat couldn’t lead yesterday, then sailed too well today until the other added a main.
Starboard tack, a free hand
A 1.5m beam sea quickly told my stomach it was participating fully. Face to wind, food temporarily uninteresting.
Close-hauled on starboard: port-tack yachts should give way. Ten approached along Ærø; hard to know whether they saw us or intended to. Free hand beside the autopilot. Right of way helps only when both understand it alike.
When the stern starts steering
At the island’s tip, north-east towards Marstal. Better wind, waves now astern swinging the bow. Autopilot managing less confidently. I took the tiller to work the waves and prevent yawing.
An autopilot helps within its limits. With the stern wandering, sometimes taking over is quicker than waiting for electronics to understand.
Golden rapeseed fields and huge turbines ashore in bright sun. Views snatched between waves, course and tiller.
A flotilla without formation
We’d agreed only departure time and destination. Each made decisions independently.
I regularly watched Meerbär on AIS: speed, wind angles, course changes, gust and wave responses. Tracks sometimes matched; different decisions sometimes produced almost identical outcomes.
More useful than speed comparisons. Another boat gives a live reference: lost speed, sail reduced early, or differences existing only in the owner’s mind.
Marstal and a pause
Thirty miles, five and a half hours. Two days in Marstal awaiting adverse southerlies to 34 knots. ‘Sail to the shop’ became Danish travel with a household excuse.
Straight to ice cream: three flavours in a cone, soft ice cream above, cinnamon on top. After the beam sea, almost medical rehabilitation.
Town, waterfront, rainbow, less-friendly waves, bagful of local food. Church and cemetery. Dinner: buckwheat, sausages, fresh tomatoes and biscuits supposedly supplied to the royal family.
After thirty miles, a legitimate form of royal participation in the voyage.
#passage
Passage weather
The passage
Museum, sea and the road back
Breakfast next day: flatbreads, butter, brie and Kalles roe paste. So intensely salty that sweet tea balanced it surprisingly well. Maritime museum afterwards. On Grigory’s advice, a novel covering 150 years of Marstal life. Centuries of maritime history: models, paintings, objects, films, people for whom the sea was work. He whetted my appetite with stories. Local sailors supposedly set off to capture Eckernförde.
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A food-loving flotilla in Denmark. Part 3. Marstal → Kiel
Breakfast next day: flatbreads, butter, brie and Kalles roe paste. So intensely salty that sweet tea balanced it surprisingly well.
Maritime museum afterwards. On Grigory’s advice, a novel covering 150 years of Marstal life. Centuries of maritime history: models, paintings, objects, films, people for whom the sea was work.
He whetted my appetite with stories. Local sailors supposedly set off to capture Eckernförde. Not quite as planned: defeated, captured, locked in the church for lack of prison space. Weeks later, told to sail themselves to Kiel, which definitely had a prison.
Prinsebroen afterwards, six lightly smoked seafoods. More town, evening pork steaks in two marinades. Waiting for wind became part of the route.
No rush
Sunday, 17 May 2026, return to Kiel. Southerly turning east only near noon; an early start pointless. Ten o’clock, avoiding an hour won then lost on a poor angle.
Ninety minutes refuelling. Offshore, sails up, wind now allowing Kiel directly. Waiting rewarded: no immediate extra tacks or bad angle.
Same destination, different courses
Differences showed immediately. I called Meerbär and suggested my course, 122. Later, Grigory explained waves prevented holding it; he needed about 140. Rassvet cut through more easily with her weight and length, while Meerbär needed a kinder angle.
We separated gradually. Same destination, different workable courses. Small on a chart, significant afloat: each boat chooses what it can hold without unnecessary struggle.
Two miles apart, Meerbär vanished from AIS, still visible to me. Antenna, settings or reception? Unknown. AIS is convenient while working; visual lookout remains essential.
A quiet finish
Steady, almost monotonous. Tea, book, periodic course, wind, sail and companion checks. The right ending after the previous days: a long, peaceful run home.
In seven hours, Rassvet covered thirty-five miles, berthing in Kiel’s golden sunset. Once stowed, Meerbär arrived and took me across the fjord. More discussion of decisions, different boat behaviour, and why one wind doesn’t make identical passages.
It began with Biltema. Became three days, two boats, changing winds, Danish food, a museum, supplies, and a rare view of my own sailing from another AIS track as well as my cockpit.
#passage
Breakfast next day: flatbreads, butter, brie and Kalles roe paste. So intensely salty that sweet tea balanced it surprisingly well.
Maritime museum afterwards. On Grigory’s advice, a novel covering 150 years of Marstal life. Centuries of maritime history: models, paintings, objects, films, people for whom the sea was work.
He whetted my appetite with stories. Local sailors supposedly set off to capture Eckernförde. Not quite as planned: defeated, captured, locked in the church for lack of prison space. Weeks later, told to sail themselves to Kiel, which definitely had a prison.
Prinsebroen afterwards, six lightly smoked seafoods. More town, evening pork steaks in two marinades. Waiting for wind became part of the route.
No rush
Sunday, 17 May 2026, return to Kiel. Southerly turning east only near noon; an early start pointless. Ten o’clock, avoiding an hour won then lost on a poor angle.
Ninety minutes refuelling. Offshore, sails up, wind now allowing Kiel directly. Waiting rewarded: no immediate extra tacks or bad angle.
Same destination, different courses
Differences showed immediately. I called Meerbär and suggested my course, 122. Later, Grigory explained waves prevented holding it; he needed about 140. Rassvet cut through more easily with her weight and length, while Meerbär needed a kinder angle.
We separated gradually. Same destination, different workable courses. Small on a chart, significant afloat: each boat chooses what it can hold without unnecessary struggle.
Two miles apart, Meerbär vanished from AIS, still visible to me. Antenna, settings or reception? Unknown. AIS is convenient while working; visual lookout remains essential.
A quiet finish
Steady, almost monotonous. Tea, book, periodic course, wind, sail and companion checks. The right ending after the previous days: a long, peaceful run home.
In seven hours, Rassvet covered thirty-five miles, berthing in Kiel’s golden sunset. Once stowed, Meerbär arrived and took me across the fjord. More discussion of decisions, different boat behaviour, and why one wind doesn’t make identical passages.
It began with Biltema. Became three days, two boats, changing winds, Danish food, a museum, supplies, and a rare view of my own sailing from another AIS track as well as my cockpit.
#passage
Passage weather