log of wotan`s return from the baltic to itchenor 2015

LOG OF WOTAN’S RETURN FROM THE
BALTIC TO ITCHENOR
2015
By Ant Fawcett
LOG OF WOTAN’S RETURN FROM THE BALTIC TO
ITCHENOR
2015
Index
First leg Mariehamn to Stockholm (3rd June – 26th June)
Second leg Gdansk to Szczecin (16th July to 25th July)
Third leg Szczecin to Hamburg (26th July – 8th August)
Fourth leg Hamburg to Flushing (8th – 22nd August)
Fifth leg Flushing to Itchenor (22nd August – 4th September)
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List of chartlets
Overview of the cruise
Mariehamn to Saltsjöbaden
Gdansk to Szczecin
Szczecin to Hamburg (Wedel)
The “ditch” north of Peenemunde
Hamburg (Wedel) to Flushing
Flushing to Itchenor
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List of illustrations
Frontispiece Wotan anchored in Stor Långören Tim Fooks
Michel beside the Brännklint tower pointing out the marks of the French musket balls
Panorama from the Notvik Tower
Bas and Carl at the Notvik Tower, beside a Russian cannon
The Customs House and Post Office at Eckerö
Replica post boat
Wotan in Stor Långören
Panorama of Maskaret, Stora Nassa
KSSS Sandhamn
Ferry at Sandhamn
Wotan docked in KSSS Saltsjöbaden outside the restaurant
The Vasa
Dluga Torg, Gdansk
The Old Crane and galleon, Gdansk
Wotan in Władysławowo
Simon and Sophie Olszowska and Mike Derry
Andrzej Urbanczyk’s Kon-Tiki like yacht
Ustaka Bridge
Darłowo harbourmaster’s office
Kołobrzeg marina
Kołobrzeg
1918 Lake Cruiser at Pogan Marina, Szczecin
The Old Town, Szczecin
The new marina in Strepnica
Yachts passing under Wolgast Bridge
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V1 with its launching ramp behind
Replica V2 at Peenemunde
The Alter Markt, Stralsund, the Rathus with the Nicholaikirche to its left
Alter Strom, Warnemunde
Sunset at Saltz Haff
Holsten Gate, the entrance to Lubeck with warehouses to the right
Digger, Alison and Robert
Orth harbour in the sunshine
Digger negotiates the Kiel Kanal
Yacht ablaze at Brunsbüttel locks
Wedel marina
The Riffgat windfarm off Borkum
Botta off Ameland
Entrance to Oudeschild, Texel
The Dromidaris Tower, Enkhuizen
The Binnehaven, Hoorn with the Hoofdtoren in the background
The Schreierstoren, Amsterdam
A rather wet Scheveningen marina
The Girl with the pearl earring by Vermeer
Willemstad
David Habs and David Cunnningham
The Binnehaven, Veere
Binnehaven, Middleburg
Pally and John on the promenade at Ostend
Town Hall, Bruges
The bridge and memorial commemorating the evacuation at Dunkirk.
Calais harbour at dawn
Mike and Pally Gibb
The rock arches at Etretat
The Nao Vittoria, a replica of Magellan’s ship that circumnavigated in 1552
The Signal station, Honfleur
Wotan anchored in Port Winston at Arromanches-sur-Mer
A restored fishing boat enters St Vaast
Mike, Ant, John and Pally with Wotan safely back Itchenor
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LOG OF WOTAN’S RETURN FROM THE BALTIC TO
ITCHENOR 2015
My plan was to sail Wotan home to Itchenor by first circumnavigating the Åland Islands, then sailing
down through the Stockholm Archipelago to Saltsjöbaden. Here I would hand Wotan over to Douglas
Byatt, who, with some friends, would sail her to Gdansk in Poland. Then we would sail along the Polish
coast and the Baltic coast of Germany through the Kiel Kanal to Hamburg. The plan was to sail along
the north of the Friesian Islands and enter the Ijsselmeer to explore some of the old ports along its
shores. From Amsterdam I had planned to take the mast up route through Holland, visiting the Kaag
Lake where I learnt to sail many years ago, down to Flushing. Sadly the mast up route through Holland
was blocked as you will read. From Flushing we would sail along the Belgian and French coasts and
spend some time gently exploring the ports of the Seine Bay.
This is chartlet shows the route that we finally took, which was not far from that I had planned.
Overview of the cruise
First leg Mariehamn to Stockholm (3rd June – 26th June)
I flew out to Helsinki in early June and spent the night there in the airport hotel before flying onto
Mariehamn early the next morning. Wotan was already in the water. Tor, who owned the yard, was his
usual dour self but Siv, his wife, was pleased to see me. Ken, the young man who worked in the yard
and who had done most of the work on Wotan, was busy launching other yachts. He was able to use
the crane to go up my mast and change the anemometer for me, which saved me a climb to the top of
the mast. Michel van Biers, who lives in Stockholm, arrived by car, having taken the Kapellskär –
Eckerö ferry, to help me recommission Wotan.
The first problem we encountered was that having filled the fresh water system, the water pump would
not stop running. We found a leaking joint in a pipe outside the heads and fixed it, but that was not the
answer as water was still streaming into the bilge. It turned out that a copper pipe that ran from the
stern cabin to the sink in the heads had burst during the winter. To winterise a fresh water system you
should put potable anti-freeze into the fresh water system. This prevents any remaining water that
might collect at the bottom of a pipe run from freezing. A trick I learnt in the US. We spent a happy
afternoon replacing the copper pipe with PEX plastic pipe using a neat little pipe cutter and some steel
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wire to pull out the old copper pipe that was well and truly stuck in its conduit. Without Michel’s help, I
would still be wrestling with the copper pipe!
I had taken three Raymarine displays home with me to have them repaired and checked out. I had
carefully drawn wiring diagrams last year, but I was still worried lest the instruments would not work. In
the event, Michel put the wiring back very carefully and to our great relief all the displays worked!
Michel beside the Brännklint tower pointing out the marks of the French musket balls
We took the opportunity to visit Bomarsund, where I have now become a knowledgeable tour guide!
This time we could drive up to both the Brännklint and Notvik Towers. In February we had to walk up a
very slippery forest road to the Notvik Tower. In February, we had noticed a café perched on a rock
above a road tunnel. We stopped off at the café, which was shut. We found out from a notice board that
the tunnel was the first tunnel ever built in Finland to connect the Stockholm – Åbo Post Road with a
new bridge that had replaced the ferry. More sinisterly, we found out that the rock was the place of
execution for criminals from all over the Åland Islands.
We moved Wotan to the ÅSS marina in the Västerhamn barely a mile south of the yard where Wotan
had been laid up. The square rigger Pommern lies just down harbour from the marina.
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Mariehamn to Saltsjöbaden
Carl Sjösted arrived in time to meet Michel before he left for his ferry home. Carl and I did a major shop
and bought an obscene quantity of wine! We arrived just in time to meet Baz Taylor ISC off his flight. I
was able to give them a quick tour of Mariehamn before dinner.
By early afternoon, we were heading off for Bomarsund via the southern route through Ledfjärden. We
sailed part of the way once the wind freed, but had to start motoring again when it died. We moored in
the little dock at Notviken underneath the Notvik Tower. Before dinner, we climbed up the well-marked
path to the Notvik Tower, which I had now visited three times! I have discovered that there are a
number of Notvikens around the Ålands. Carl explained that Notvik means Nut Bay.
Panorama from the Notvik Tower
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Bas and Carl at the Notvik Tower, beside a Russian cannon
Next morning, we visited the Bomarsund site, which was only a short walk from the marina, and spent
an hour or so wandering around it. This time I managed to find the memorial to the three sailors who
were the first three winners of the Victoria Cross. We returned to the boat and headed round the top of
the Ålands towards the tiny Havsvidden marina, which Colin, Chris and I had visited in February. I have
to own that we motored the entire way, as our course was dead to windward. Apart from a single British
motor yacht, that did not even acknowledge our presence, we were the only yacht around. Looking for
a quiet night, we anchored instead at the top of Djupviken just to the east of Havsvidden, which proved
to be perfectly sheltered anchorage surrounded by attractive holiday huttes.
Next morning, we weighed anchor and motored out of Djupviken determined on getting into the tiny
Havsvidden marina. It was advertised with a least depth on the end of the jetty of 2.5m. We picked out
the leading lines using binoculars, but we kept losing the marks! The entrance was between a rocky
headland and a reef, so it was quite important not to stray off the straight and narrow. Before we could
reach the dock, we ran aground gently. We reversed off and headed west around the top of the Åland
Islands. We could see fog rolling in from the north and soon we were down to 50m visibility.
Fortunately, the viz. improved within a very short time. This was fortunate as we had some narrow
passages to negotiate. The wind was light so once again we motored all the way to Eckerö.
We were keen to visit Eckerö as Eckerö was on the post route from Stockholm to Åbo. The harbour
chart looked distinctly uninviting with depths of only 1.3m shown on the chartlet in the Besökshamnar
booklet of Finnish Harbours and not much more on the official chart. The harbourmaster had
considerately laid an NCM and an SCM to show us the way in. In the event to depth never dropped
below 3.3m. Kåringsund proved to a most attractive harbour and the people at the gasthamn office
charming. We had thought of going up a narrow fiord to the west of Eckerö for the night, but we could
see no reason to move.
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The morning dawned with a gentle northerly breeze, so perhaps we would have some sailing after all.
First, we had to visit the Post and Customs Museum, which was about a mile away. We walked along a
forest path beside what purported to be a wild life park, but we could see no wild animals. Today, quite
by chance, was the day for the re-enactment of the postal boat service, which had stopped in the late
19th Century. The Post and Customs House was a beautiful 19th century Russian building. Outside it
and overlooking the Postbryggan was a memorial to those members of the Post Boat Service who lost
their lives over the years. There was the usual wife with a baby in her arms looking out to sea.
The Customs House and Post Office at Eckerö
The main building had been turned into an art gallery, but for the ground floor was the room in which
the Postmaster slept and had his office. There was a mannequin of the postmaster dressed in his
uniform working at his desk. The Post Boat Museum was very small but it had a genuine post boat. The
post boat was typically about 16’ long. It had to be quite small so that in winter it could be pushed or
pulled over the ice. There were two model post boatmen, pushing on a wooden pole lashed across the
boat. They were dressed in sheepskin clothing to keep out the cold. If they were caught out at night,
they turned the boat on its side and sheltered under it. This was not a life that I would have enjoyed.
The post boat route went from Grisslehamn in Sweden to Eckerö in the Åland islands, about 20 miles.
Replica post boat
We set sail for Mariehamn in the early afternoon. For a change, we were able to sail almost all the way.
We docked once again in the ASS marina and treated ourselves to dinner in their restaurant.
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Early next morning we walked Carl to his ferry back to Stockholm. The weather was miserable so we
waited until the rain had stopped before Baz and I set off into town to do some shopping and to top up
my Swedish SIM card. Arriving back at the marina laden with our provisions I met Lionel Hoare ISC,
who has just docked in Gryphon a brand new Nauticat 382, which is friend Dr Tim Fooks had recently
bought in Turku, the Finnish name for Åbo, and was taking back to the UK. Tim had sailed with Lionel
up to Tromsø and had made the film about the voyage. They came round for drinks. They had two
guests arriving that evening and they planned to head off down to Rodhamn for the night. We decided
not to join them, as the weather was miserable. However, we agreed to meet up in Stor-Långören the
next evening. They had been told about the anchorage by a local. I was able to show Tim the
anchorage in my Naturhamnar på Ostkusten.
We had a good sail for about 2/3rds of the way to Stor-Långören, when the wind died on us. Sure
enough, Gryphon was anchored in my favourite spot. Therefore, we went into the 4.5m anchorage to
the north-west, which turned out to have a shallow ledge rather too close for comfort! No sooner than
we had anchored then Lionel rowed to invite us for drinks.
Wotan in Stor Långören
In the morning, to avoid the mid channel rock that I had grounded on in 2008, we motored out very
gingerly. The wind was light and the sun was out so we continued under motor until we reached the
main channel where we rolled out the genoa for about 40 minutes until the wind dropped and we had to
motor into Rödloga for lunch. This time it was deserted but for two other boats. We had lunch and the
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obligatory snooze before heading off to Ängskär for the night. We anchored in Ängskär, not quite in the
same place as last time, as the spot had already been taken, but slightly further north.
The wind was very light, so we motored all the way, entering the Stora Nassa group from the north to
anchor off Hustrun, Baz’s fine choice of anchorage. We were intrigued by a 20’ classic wooden
Scandinavian boat pulled up out of the water on a smooth rock slope.
Panorama of Maskaret, Stora Nassa
By the time we came to leave, the wind had piped up to 18knots from the south. We weighed anchor
and with nary a care in the world motored south down the channel that runs through the centre of the
Stora Nassa group. Just as we thought that we were free and clear, heading for a well-deserved dinner
in Sandhamn, the engine lost power and gave out. Fortunately, it held out long enough for us to clear
he rocks and set the genoa. We had to beat the 20 miles to Sandhamn. The KSSS marina in
Sandhamn could not have been more helpful. They came out to meet us in a RIB. In the event, we
ghosted, under barepoles having rolled up the genoa, onto the berth that they had allocated us. All they
had to do was give us a gentle nudge to stop us drifting down wind away from the pontoon when were
assailed by the down draft of a helicopter landing behind us!
Very relieved to have made it to Sandham, we soon repaired to the Värdshus for dinner. The Värdshus
was first opened in 1672. Local primary school children have their lunches there. Lucky them!
I had been told by Ken that, when he launched the boat and ran up the engine, the engine stopped. He
used a suction pump to clear 2-3 litres of possibly contaminated fuel from the bottom of the tank.
Thereafter the engine ran sweetly. I should have insisted that we drain the tank and clean it out, but I
had never had a problem with the diesel bug before. I had used a debugging agent and that had always
worked satisfactorily. Before leaving Mariehamn, I poured all that remained of it into the tank in order to
ward off any problem. The engine ran sweetly all the way around the Ålands so I thought that the
problem had been solved.
KSSS Sandhamn
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Baz discovered that the fuelling station at the marina would be able to pump out our diesel tank. The
fuel was removed and we lifted the inspection hatch to find that there was a lot of sludge in the bottom
of the fuel tank. We removed most of this with copious amounts of Elephant’s Bog Roll (aka EBR).
Daniel, the boss, lent us his airline to blow out any sludge from the scavenge fuel inlet pipe. We
changed the primary fuel filter, put 20 litres of clean diesel into the tank and fired up the engine. It
started first time. We thought that we had cracked it. We let the engine run for 20 minutes before
replacing the inspection cover. After this, we started the engine to see if it was really working before we
set off with a light heart for Saltsjöbaden. Sadly, however, the engine stopped after about 5 minutes.
The primary filter, which should be full of diesel, was all but empty so fuel was clearly not reaching the
injectors. We were mystified.
I was greeted by Gustav, who had looked after Bim and me in KSSS Saltsjöbaden last year. He had
decided that he needed a change of scenery and had moved to Sandhamn for this summer. I asked
him why Sandhamn was awash with Police. He explained that Sandhamn was a very popular place to
spend Midsommer’s Eve and that people tended to get rather drunk. He told me that he had had to
report a boater arriving at the KSSS marina that morning to the Police for being drunk in charge of a
motor boat. I had seen the incident from afar. The miscreant was accosted by several officers and lead
away in handcuffs!
On Friday morning, Baz set off to Stockholm by ferry to meet his wife Susan. I called Brian Strickland of
Harbour Engineering at Itchenor, who looks after Wotan’s engine when she is at home. He suggested
that I needed to take the inlet hose off the lift pump and then suck fuel out of the tank. This would prove
that the pipes between the tank and the lift pump were clear and that there was no air leak. If the tickler
on the fuel pump would not work, it would indicate that the problem was with the primary fuel pump.
Sure enough, the problem was with the lift pump. I called Björne, the local engineer. It was
Midsommer’s Day so he was on holiday, but he asked me to call him back in the morning. Let’s hope
he can solve it! The kind KSSS staff towed me off the fuel dock and back to my berth on the main dock.
I had heard that there was to be a ceremony of raising the maypole on the village green at 3pm. I
followed a stream of people there. There must have been several hundred people there. The maypole
was lying on the ground. A small band was waiting to accompany the singing. Eventually the pole was
raised after some difficulty, as it was obviously quite heavy. It wobbled a lot until the men folk managed
to insert some bolts to hold it in place. Suddenly a man came in bearing a Swedish flag and behind him
a posse of ladies in traditional costume, who mounted a dais surrounding the maypole. They began to
lead the singing. I retired to Wotan to sleep as a nearby motor yacht had been playing very loud music
until 0430. It was very cold and wet so I was glad to have a fan heater to keep me warm.
Ferry at Sandhamn
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I called Bjorn soon after 1000. He was around in a flash. I was able to remove the offending fuel lift
pump, which Bjorn took back to his workshop. While I was upside down under the engine, Tom
Trevelyan arrived. After lunch, Bjorn returned with a long expression on his face. The fuel lift pump was
scrap. I asked if he could repair it. No, he said but he did have an electric pump, which we could install
instead, but it would need to be wired into the ignition circuit. After a bit of a struggle Tom and I were
able to install the pump. The engine started. Thank heavens! The only problem was that it was spewing
out diesel. After Bjorn left, Tom and I continued to wrestle with the pipework until we had almost
stopped the fuel leak. We decided to draw stumps and head for the Värdshus. There were groups of
young partying on boats all around the marina when we returned to Wotan. They were drinking
copiously, but they all seemed to be behaving pretty well. Next morning, there were bodies strewn all
over the marina!
Tom and I worked away on the engine sorting out the fuel leak and wiring in a switch for the electric fuel
pump. We could escape from Sandhamn at last! We set off for Norsviken a small anchorage on the
island of Sändö, some 5 miles north of Sandhamn. Norsviken turned out to be a delightful anchorage
with a couple of small stugors (cottages) but with not a soul in sight.
To lay to rest the demons of my last visit to rest, I needed to visit Stora Nassa again. Besides I needed
to show Tom some of the outer skerries. We had a lovely reach out to the southern entrance of Stora
Nassa. I tried to anchor in a small lead shown in my pilot book, but it was too small for us to swing. As
we motored up Stora Nassa sound, we met a beautiful classic metre yacht sailing onto an anchorage,
bows to the shore. We anchored off the northeast side of Mastsköret for lunch. When we came to
leave, the crew of the meter yacht had their tent up and had dropped and bagged their jib, so they were
clearly settled in for the night.
After lunch, we sailed west to rejoin the main north south channel to the east of Möja. To do this we had
to take a squiggly channel between several islands. We sailed close-hauled under No.3 genoa, past
Möja and down to a small anchorage in the south of Hemholmen. Some kind soul had put a red buoy
off the northwest point of Ostholmen to mark an outlying rock. We found several yachts moored bow-to
the rocks and young playing beach tennis on the rocks. This was obviously quite an organised
anchorage, with notice boards, toilets and rubbish bins.
The great thing about sailing with Tom is that he always wants to make a boat go as fast as possible.
We sailed down the main drag past Stavnäs, and round into Vadviken, which is to the north of Dalarö.
The purpose of our visit was to buy a fuel lift pump for the engine. I had been told in Sandhamn that
Lindstroms in Vadviken was the go to place for Volvo spares. We soon identified the yard and were tied
up on their dock. I showed Tomas Lindstrom the remains of Wotan’s lift pump. He knew Bjorn by
reputation as he had appeared on television and radio programs about the skärgård. He described
Bjorn as the last of the hill-billies of the skärgård! After lunch we sailed gently up to Napoleonviken, one
of my favourite anchorages. Soon after we arrived, the heavens opened. It continued to rain all night
and into the morning. When the rain stopped, we set off under motor to KSSS Saltsjöbaden. This was
the first time that Tom had used Wotan’s famous mooring clip. All went well and we were met by a
beautiful blonde girl on the KSSS staff, who took our lines very efficiently and welcomed me back to
Saltsjöbaden, remembering me from last year.
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Wotan docked in KSSS Saltsjöbaden outside the restaurant
Tom was due to fly home in the evening, so we had decided to devote the day to sightseeing in
Stockholm. Before visiting the Vasa, we stopped off to visit an icebreaker, which with an MTB and a
lightship were on permanent display. The icebreaker was commission during WW1 as a steam driven
ship with an open bridge. In the late 1930s, it was converted to oil, but the engine remained a triple
expansion steam engine. This was obviously the cheapest way to convert it. They also covered in the
bridge so that the officers did not have to stand out in the cold! We saw a rather good film about the
work of the icebreaker. What amused us was the way, when the mast was too tall to go under a bridge;
they sent a seaman shinning up the rigging with a saw to lop a few metres off the mast so it could clear
the bridge! We saw it cutting its way through the ice in Stockholm harbour with local people, dressed in
suits, walking alongside the icebreaker!
After lunch, we joined an English speaking tour of the Vasa, then spent most of the afternoon looking at
the Vasa and its plethora of exhibits, films etc. The Vasa sank in 1628 have barely covered a mile from
its launching. It is practically intact having sunk in deep water off Djurgården.
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The Vasa
My job next morning was to install the new fuel lift pump. I cannot pretend that it was very difficult, but it
took me until early afternoon. The engine started and I ran it for half an hour to satisfy myself that it was
really working.
Come Saturday morning, there was not much left to do apart from tiding up the boat in preparation for
Douglas Byatt’s arrival. Douglas had borrowed Wotan last year and had a fortnight’s sailing out of
Saltsjöbaden. This year he was kindly going to take Wotan to Gdansk for me. Douglas and his crew
duly arrived. I was pleased to be able to hand over Wotan with an engine in good working order. I said
my farewells and headed for the airport.
Second leg Gdansk to Szczecin (16th July to 25th July)
Arriving in Gdansk from Stansted, I was whizzed into town by taxi along a new by-pass that certainly
had not been built when I was last in Gdansk over 10 years ago. The infrastructure had improved
enormously in that time. I found Wotan lying in the marina opposite the famous Old Crane. Douglas and
his friends had left the boat looking immaculate. I set off for a wander around town. I walked down
Dluga Torg, which is main tourist street in Gdansk and deservedly so as it is very beautiful, framed, as it
is, with gates at each end.
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Dluga Torg, Gdansk
I was soon to be joined by Mike Derry, who had sailed with me from Helsinki to Mariehamn last year.
was joining me. He eventually turned up having suffered a delayed flight. He had last been in Gdansk
50 years ago, training Polish dinghy sailors. He too was amazed at the transformation of the city. We
repaired to a marquee beside the marina, which was owned by the local micro-brewery, to sample their
product.
Gdansk to Szczecin
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After a serious hit on the local Biedronka (Ladybird) supermarket, Mike and I then took off separately to
visit Gdansk, Mike to see some churches and me to visit the National Maritime Museum.
The Old Crane and galleon, Gdansk
The Maritime Museum was very interesting, but sadly, all the information was in Polish so it was rather
lost on me. We set off for Hel in the early afternoon to meet up with Simon and Sophie Olszowski. Hel
had been a restricted military area until recently. It had been a training base for German U-Boats during
WWII. Simon and Sophie were waiting for us on the dock, having bagged the best berth for us. Hel has
become a delightful holiday resort, popping with people. After a visit to the seal sanctuary, charmingly
known as the Fokarium, we found a restaurant in town that was a converted fisherman’s cottage.
We slipped from Hel at 1015 and motored out to sea. The wind was light, but we set the main more in
hope than expectation. About an hour later we set the genoa and cut the motor and sailed NW along
the coast. By lunch time the wind was down to F2 and we were barely moving so we started the motor
and motored all the way to Władysławowo. Władysławowo is a busy fishing port and holiday resort at
the root of the Hel peninsular.
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Wotan in Władysławowo
A set of pontoons for yachts had been installed recently. The harbour was surrounded by postcommunist industrial wasteland. Simon discovered a restaurant across the railway tracks in what must
have been an old factory. Without Simon, we would have been really stuck as practically no one spoke
any English. The food was particularly good but the cadre unprepossessing.
Simon Olszowski
Sophie Olszowska
Mike Derry
After an hour and a half’s good sailing as we beat west along the coast, the wind died. We were
fortunate to have lunch in the cockpit before the rain came. We entered Łeba in a NE wind, which made
the entrance interesting. The narrow channel leads you up the river to the marina on the starbord side.
We ran aground on the way to the first berth but we found a second and more convenient berth beside
the fuel dock where there was sufficient depth. The recently built marina was carved out of a forest. In
the grounds of the marina was a homemade Kon-Tiki type yacht in which Andrzej Urbanczyk sailed
around the Baltic in the 1950s. In all he covered some 175,000 miles sailing the oceans of the world in
other yachts. He now lives in California.
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Andrzej Urbanczyk’s Kon-Tiki like yacht
We walked into Łeba in the pouring rain. Łeba was another holiday resort and teeming with people.
There was a little canal running into the centre of town along which galleons and pirate ships of various
sizes were moored, waiting for custom in the morning. I had identified an Italian restaurant on the
internet called Fat Angelos, which turned out to be pretty good.
Sophie went for her usual early morning run and declared that the beach and the forest around Łeba
was very beautiful. We decided to forgo a visit to the dinosaur park as we had a 30 mile beat to Ustka
ahead of us. This proved to be a 9 hour struggle. The sea was quite rough so we were losing a lot of
speed every time we hit a wave, and there were a lot of them! As far as I could see, we were the only
yacht heading west. Lunch was a quick sandwich affair as we hung on tight. Mike was revelling in the
conditions and Wotan was sailing well, her usual delightful self in such conditions. We put the motor on
for the last few hours to help push us through the waves to reach Ustaka before lights out. I noticed that
my Navionics chart on my iPad showed a new bridge across the entrance to the inner harbour. This
bridge was not shown either on my chart dated 2009 or in my more recent Pilot Book. Sure enough
there was a new pedestrian bridge and it was shut. Simon was detailed to call up the Harbour Master to
find out when it opened. He assured us that it was due to open in 10 minutes time. There is a marina
under construction in the old fishing harbour, but we had to lie along the waterfront where there was a
heavy swell. While we were having drinks, there was an almighty bang, which resounded through the
boat. We looked around but could not detect any damage. It was not until the morning that we noticed
that the starbord bow fairlead had been pulled out, by the force on the breast rope.
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Ustaka Bridge
Ustaka has been developed very tastefully with new blocks of flats along the waterfront, with cafés and
restaurants at street level. We chose what we thought was an attractive one. It had a log fire burning,
which was very popular with Sophie, who was still cold from the voyage. The place was charming and
the waiter and waitress, both university students, spoke excellent English. The food was very good as
well. By the time we returned to the boat the swell had reduced.
The weather had improved considerably since yesterday. The wind was down to a very manageable
F4. We sailed almost all the 22 miles to Darłowo. We were expecting a wind shift in the afternoon. It
came through, but not before we had been massively headed and had begun sailing towards Sweden.
When we were close to Darłowo I started the motor as I did not want to miss the 1600 hrs bridge
opening. The harbour master’s office looks more like space ship!
A new marina had been built to the east of the river in the fishing dock. The facilities were excellent.
Clearly the local authority had decided to develop facilities for yachtsmen. We were told that we were
only the second British yacht to enter the harbour this season. Most of the yachts seemed to be
German with a smattering of Polish yachts and the odd Swedish or Dutch yacht.
Encouraged by the write up in my guide book, we took a bus into Darłowo. The fare for the four of us
was Zl12 or £2. The town, though quite historic, was almost empty. We returned to have dinner at the
Taverna by the marina, which proved a mistake!
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Darłowo harbourmaster’s office
Simon and Sophie left us to head back to Gdynia, where Simon runs a business. This was a day of light
head winds that veered during the day to coming from almost right aft. We motored all the way to
Kołobrzeg. With a flotilla from the Swedish Cruising Association the marina was packed. I was met by a
friendly harbour master, who spoke very good English. He encouraged me to come on into the marina,
which was tight for a boat of Wotan’s size, but it was clear that this was not going to work. I had to back
out and moor in a berth on the outside. The marina was well appointed and even ran to a small
chandlery. Opposite was a fortification, described as a redoubt, which had morphed into a café.
Kołobrzeg marina
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Kołobrzeg
With a forecast of F5 on the nose to Swinoujscie, Mike and I to have a lay day in Kołobrzeg. It turned
out that Kołobrzeg was a great place to visit. It had a very impressive cathedral and a plethora of
military museums. The main one near the centre of town had, as well as the usual medieval armour, a
wonderful collection of WWI and WWII uniforms and equipment plus a range of Warsaw Pact weaponry
and uniforms. The museum reflected the split personality of the region, having been part of East
Prussian Germany until 1945, and then invaded by the Russians and then part of Poland. There was no
attempt to gloss over this issue. The exhibition had a number of Soviet fighters, bombers and
helicopters in an open-air display.
Once again, there was little or no wind. We had a 50 mile hop to Swinoujscie as we had decided to
miss out Dziwnow. It was an uneventful passage with the voile Volvo and Nicole doing most of the
work. It was not until we reached the Swinoujscie channel that there was any wind. Some locals had
cleverly taken the inshore route which gave them a light sea breeze that kept them sailing. Swinoujscie
has a large marina about a mile in from the entrance. It was remarkably full as the West Coast chapter
of the Swedish Cruising Association (SXK) had moved to Swinoujscie from Kołobrzeg. I went to talk to
the owner of Who, a really beautiful S&S Swan 65, based in Saltsjöbaden. The owner had his wife and
young children on board. The children were obviously having a great time. He told me that he sailed the
boat single-handed, though not in the archipelago. He had competed in the recent Round Gotland
Race.
Szczecin lies on the Oder River some 35 miles from the sea. A wide canal leads south from
Swinoujscie into a large lake the Zalev Szczecinski, or the Stettin Lake. The lake is only about 5-6m
deep, so a channel, 11m deep, has been dredged across the lake. It is dead straight and well-marked.
The lake changes into a river at Trzebiez. The dredged channel continues all the way to Szczecin,
which is a major port and shipyard. I visited the shipyard many years ago when I was in Barclays. The
boardroom had pictures of battleships that it had built for the Kaiser. While there are industrial wharves
along the banks of the Oder, there is also plenty of wild sections. We saw several Sea Eagles.
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1918 Lake Cruiser at Pogan Marina, Szczecin
There are six marinas on the southern shore of the Dabie Lake. We plumped for the Pogon marina as,
from the brochures we had been given, it looked the most attractive. The marina had been somewhat
enlarged since the Baltic Pilot was printed. The facilities however leave something to be desired. There
was a café come restaurant, which Mike and I felt provided good, if simple, food. Sadly, it was shut on
Sunday. It is conveniently placed with a bus stop nearby.
I went into Szczecin with Mike, who had to catch a train to Warsaw for his flight home. This gave me the
opportunity to explore the city, which had been badly damage in WWII. Armed with my guide book, I
visited the Old Town, which is very small but beautiful. It is clearly a popular area for restaurants and
cafés. I then went to the cathedral where Mass was in progress so I took the lift up to the viewing
platform in the spire. I dropped by the Palace of the Dukes Pommerania. The building was being
restored so I was not able to visit the museum. On the way to the Palace I came across a group of
ladies singing folk songs on a stage in the square behind the cathedral.
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The Old Town, Szczecin
Third leg Szczecin to Hamburg (26th July – 8th August)
Robert Gayner, Digger Harris, and Alison Miller arrived late in the evening. Since we had not seen each
other for sometime, we fell to drinking bad juice until the early hours of the morning.
Szczecin to Hamburg (Wedel)
Ally, Digger and Robert went into town with a long shopping list. In the meantime, I lugged 40 litres of
diesel in cans from the nearby petrol station, which did not seem so near when heavy laden. The crew
returned from Szczecin with food and goodies. We set off after lunch and headed down the Oder, but
not before we had visited the marina next to Pogon. Sure enough I found that Hotelli Marina, a cable or
23
so away, had a fuel berth so I could have saved myself a lot of effort! Robert was in his element
observing the wild life on the Oder and admiring the Sea Eagles. None of us could quite work out the
purpose of the spoil heap to the north of Szczecin contained, but we guessed that it was spoil from the
factory with huge chimneys poking up near the spoil heap.
The new marina in Strepnica
We decided that we should spend the night in Strepnica. We went into the main commercial harbour as
the chart showed that the marina up the river by the sailing club would be too shallow, likewise the
fishing harbour. The harbour master beckoned us in and did not want to charge us. Once we were
ashore that we realised that a brand new but completely empty marina lay next door in the old fishing
harbour. So true to Rule 3 of the Royal Cruising Club, I took my leadline and surveyed the new marina.
We found that there was 3m in most of the marina and 2.7m along the piling. We found a rather querky
restaurant for dinner offering local fish. For some reason they insisted that we should eat in the dark, lit
only by a few lights around the bar and the moon.
With rain forecast for the day we headed off towards Wolgast from where we planned to visit
Peenemunde the site where the V1 and V2 rockets had been developed. We sailed out to and then
down the main channel before heading off north-west towards Wolgast. Before Wolagast we had to
negotiate the Karnin Bridge. Robert, who speaks good German, was detailed to call the bridge mast to
check the opening times as the Baltic Pilot warned us that opening times were often changed. We
anchored just below the bridge to await the 1720 opening. While we were waiting the VHF alarm
sounded and we heard a Mayday in progress. A lady had fallen overboard from a yacht about 7 miles
east of where we were anchored. We had seen two cruise boats go past us when we were anchoring,
the Frederick Chopin and the Katerina von Brora. A look at the AIS showed that they were within a few
cables of the casualty. I called Bremen Rescue, which was coordinating the rescue, to inform them of
this. They too were aware of this, but try as they would they could not raise either vessel. Soon after
this exchange, a yacht reported that they had spotted a person with a yellow lifejacket in the water and
soon after that they had retrieved the casualty. Once it was established that the casualty was alive
Bremen Rescue asked the yacht involved in the rescue whether anyone else had fallen over board
from the yacht. The answer was yes, there was another lady in the water. At which point the skipper of
the yacht that had made the distress call having lost his wife overboard, announced that he only wanted
one wife back!
Freed from our obligation to attend the casualty we turned and headed through the Karnin Bridge and
on towards Wolgast. Just south of Wolgast we saw a huge black cloud bearing down on us. Digger
made the very sensible suggestion that rather than get soaked, why don’t we anchor and wait until it
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passed. This we did and rather than carry on to Wolgast we decided to anchor in the lee of a stand of
trees for the night.
After and excellent dinner of fillet of pork, cooked by Alison and washed down with tinned fruit, we fell to
singing our way through the RCC Song Book with the skipper playing his concertina. The singing went
on until the wee small hours. We needed to catch the 0845 bridge opening in the morning.
We planned our departure to arrive the statutory 20 minutes before the bridge opening. We were
somewhat dismayed to meet a flotilla of boats, including a cargo vessel, coming in the opposite
direction. We told ourselves that the bridge had been opened especially for this convoy and that there
was no problem. We arrived at the Wolgast Bridge and loitered with intent, just upstream of it as
instructed in the Pilot Book. The appointed hour came and went but there was no sign of the bridge
opening. Robert called up the Bridgemaster who said that the opening time was 0745 not the 0845 we
had in the Pilot Book. Well there you go!
Yachts passing under Wolgast Bridge
Making a virtue out of necessity, we moored on the town quay upstream of the bridge. We soon
discovered that we could take a train from Wolgast to Peenemunde, The station was very nearby. We
caught the very smart UBB train across to Peenestrom. We had to change trains at Zinnowitz, which
gave us the chance to grab some lunch in a Vietnamese Restaurant before catching the train to
Peenemunde.
The Peenemunde site was dominated by a coal fired power station and included the bunker from which
the engineers watched the test firings of both the V1s and the V2s. The bunker had become the ticket
office and museum shop. Outside the bunker were a V1 on its launching track and a V2. The V1,
essentially a cruise missile had to be launched using a steam catapult along a ramp about 30m long, in
the same way that a jet fighter is launched from an aircraft carrier.
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V1 with its launching ramp behind
The V2 on the other hand could be trailed around behind a half track and then raised onto a launch
plate, which was carried around with the rocket. The rocket fuel, essentially oxygen and hydrogen
peroxide, was loaded once the rocket was in a vertical position and ready for launching. The power
station was built to provide the power necessary to separate oxygen from air to provide the propellant.
The oxygen plant building was still standing but there was no equipment remaining. At the end of the
war the Soviets stripped the plant of all valuable equipment, while keeping the power station running.
The German Army military test centre was moved from near Berlin to Peenemunde. Mainly, I
understand, at the instigation of Werner von Braun, who had been recruited, fresh from completing his
PhD in rocket engines, to head up the German rocket programme. His mother had a large house on the
island of Usedom and encouraged him to move there. It was not altogether clear how much
involvement Werner von Braun had in the V1 programme. I believe that this programme was run by the
Luftwaffe, while the V2 rocket programme was run by the Army.
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Replica V2 at Peenemunde
The Allies were slow to recognise the importance of the Peenemunde site, despite the construction of a
large power plant and the network of railways and other buildings surrounding it. In 1943, information
filtered out via the Polish Secret Army that something important was going on at Peenemunde. The
RAF sent a photo-reconnaissance aircraft to inspect the site. It became clear to RV Jones, among
others, that this was an important site at which rockets were being developed. The allies sent a very
large formation of bombers to bomb the site in August 1943. The bombs did not hit the main facilities
but they did destroy much of the living quarters of the engineering and scientific staff and also much of
the camp in which the forced labourers lived. This had the effect of causing the Germans to move the
production of V2 rockets into galleries dug into the Hartz mountains, thus rendering the production site
of the V2s invulnerable to allied air raids. The death toll amongst the forced labourers was appalling. It
was said that more people were killed manufacturing the V2s than were ever killed by them. The
technical achievement of von Braun and his team was prodigious. Not only did they have to design the
rocket but they had to overcome innumerable technical problems on the way, not least the freezing up
fuel pumps because of the low temperatures at which the liquid oxygen had to be kept and the
requirement to develop a gyroscopic compass system. The control surfaces located on the tail of the
rockets had to be made of graphite because of the high temperatures at which they had to operate. The
V2 rockets went 65km into space before dropping down on their targets. The amount of fuel loaded
determined the range of the rockets. The rockets were not sufficiently accurate to attack a strategic
target, rather they could be used to target an area such as London or Antwerp. One of the aims of the
exhibition was persuade you that Germany was the cradle of space flight. This might have been true in
the 1920 when a number of amateur enthusiasts were building rockets. Once the Abwehr gained
control of the rocket programme and put von Braun in charge, the research and development of the
rocket was purely directed towards military ends.
27
I was keen to go to Lauterbach on the famous holiday island of Rügen and to see the village of Putbus.
Prince Wilhelm Malte I was ahead of his time when in 1818 he gave Rügen its first bathing resort. He
built a neo-classical spa-town with Italianate overtones. Its core was the Circus surrounded by smart
town houses. All this came to naught when in the 1960’s an over jealous GDR mayor saw this as a
symbol of feudal repression and had the whole place dynamited to impress the visiting top brass!
The “ditch” north of Peenemunde
We set off up the channel between Wolgast and Usedom. The weather was not too bad but by the time
we reached the Greifwalder Bodden the weather had turned very nasty. We had to negotiate a ditch,
common in these shallow inland seas that are a feature of the region. In doing so we ran aground. We
were quite lucky to get off since the wind was blowing us onto a lee-shore. Once we were off the mud
we kept the engine running all the way to Lauterbach. The visibility was poor and the wind a solid 35
knots. Wotan behaved very well. Digger found that his oilskin trousers leaked badly, but he bravely
stayed on deck and with Robert brought us safely into Lauterbach. We decided to berth in the main
harbour as the marina had little shelter and was very tight especially in the windy conditions.
We were all very pleased to be in the shelter of Lauterbach harbour and safely tied up. We found a very
good chandlers nearby. Digger treated himself to a new set of Gill oilskins and was given a pair of
boots gratis. I found a waterproof pouch for my iPad, which had got soaked its “splashproof” case that I
had used last season. After such a gruelling sail we treated ourselves to dinner in the local fish
restaurant. We never did get to see Postbus!
We were keen not to miss the Stralsund Bridge opening at 1230. We set off south west to round the
bottom of Rügen. We were rather sad to leave Lauterbach, which had provided us with such good
shelter at the end of an exhausting day in a Force 8. The weather had changed and we now had a
W4/5 that allowed us to sail to the southern end of Rügen, in company with a small catamaran that left
us for dead. We were then back to the ditch crawling that we had come to know so well. We had to
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motor the last 12 miles to the bridge. We were soon surrounded by a swarm of yachts. This time we
had got the timing right. The mêlée for the bridge sorted out the alpha males from the rest. Robert
decided to give his alpha male credentials a rest announcing that we would be last through the bridge.
We eventually found the fuel dock, while Robert spotted a nearby wurst stall.
Once we were docked, our usual lunch in the cockpit was thrown to the wind as we headed off to the
wurst stall. There was a stage set up nearby with a folk group playing. Near the wurst stall was a bar,
so our food, drink and entertainment needs were satisfied at a stroke. After lunch we went for a wander
in town.
The Alter Markt, Stralsund, the Rathus with the Nicholaikirche to its left
The Stralsund Rathus or town hall, built in the 13th Century was a very impressive edifice. It had a
vaulted walkway underneath the main hall with vaulted cellars below that had been used for trading.
Stralsund had been a Hanseatic port. We found a café where we pigged out on enormous cakes and
iced coffee with ice cream. There were fountains coming up from the square, which came on randomly
and provided endless fun for the children and adults alike. Stralsund is a UNESCO World Heritage site.
As you may have guessed, dinner was a visit to the wurst stall!
The channel out of Stralsund was another of these wiggly ditches. The wild life in the Kubitzer Bodden
National Park was spectacular. Robert counted over 1000 swans. They were sitting on a sand bank.
We made our way out along a channel to the east of Hidensee, which we had been recommended as
an anchorage. We could have spent a day or two exploring the channels and anchorages around the
Kubitzer Bodden, but we had a timetable to maintain. We sailed or rather motor sailed north of an
island delightfully named Zingst and round Darser Ort a headland. Darser Ort has a very convenient
harbour, which is reported to have silted up and is therefore closed, except in emergencies. It is
suspected that the real reason for its closure is that the Green Party don’t want any development along
that part of the coast. Darser Ort would make a very convenient stopping off place between Stralsund
and Warnemunde, which is otherwise a 51 mile trek.
Warnemunde is a renowned holiday destination with a long white sand beach the like of which is not
found elsewhere in Germany. Warnemunde lies at the mouth of the river which leads up to Rostock.
We were warned by the guide book that while Rostock was a Hanseatic port it had not fared as well as
Lubeck, so we decided to give it a miss. We docked in the enormous marina at Hohe Dune. Hohe Dune
is a huge upmarket hotel complex opposite Warnemunde. We had dinner on board as we were tired
after a long voyage.
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Alter Strom, Warnemunde
Next morning, we took the ferry over to Warnemunde to have a look at the beach resort. The Alter
Strom, the fishing dock was lined with stalls selling fish all sorts of produce. You can berth here but as
you can see it was very crowded. The streets of Warnemunde were popping. You could barely push
your way down the fish dock and over the bridge for holiday makers. We walked as far at the beach
then down a street to the west of the fishing dock. It was lined with well-appointed houses many of
which were available for holiday lets. Surprise, surprise we found a small wurst stall where we bought
our lunch before heading back to the boat.
In the afternoon we set off to anchor in the Saltz Haff. The wind was light so we motored, sailed and
motor sailed in turn. The German pilot book advised that entry into Rerik should not be attempted with a
draft of more than 1.5m. That ruled us out! The entrance was narrow, but fortunately the iPad Navionics
plotter was doing a good job keeping us off the mud.
Sunset at Saltz Haff
30
We anchored on the east side of Saltz Haff in the company of two three other yachts. It was a beautiful
anchorage. We had a very peaceful night.
When the anchor came up I have never seen so much weed. It took Robert and Digger several minutes
to clear it. We had a gentle motor sail down the coast to Travemunde. Travemunde is at the entrance to
the river leading up to Lubeck. We docked in the Passat marina on the east side of the river opposite
the town of Travemunde. The Passat is a square rigged clipper, the sister ship to the ill-fated Pamir,
which foundered when she was operating as a sail training ship in the 1950s, after a long career as a
trading ship.
Holsten Gate, the entrance to Lubeck with warehouses to the right
We wanted to see Lubeck, so we took the ferry across to Travemunde and caught the train to Lubeck.
The city is built on an oval shaped island. The main entrance to Lubeck is through the impressive
Holsten Gate. Sadly, as Digger pointed out, the architects got their soil mechanics wrong as the towers
have a distinct list. Lubeck had been a very wealthy city. Its churches are enormous, even the small
ones. There were beautiful medieval building everywhere interspersed with modern buildings. The main
shopping street, however, owed little to medieval architecture.
Robert had booked us into the Shipowners’ Guild for dinner. The Guild Hall had fallen into disuse
during the 19th Century and had been turned into a restaurant. The furnishings were original, including
the ships models that hung from the ceiling. After dinner, we sought out one of the courtyards, which
are such a feature of Lubeck. The one we visited was like a mews, with the residents sitting outside
their houses at tables enjoying the evening air.
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Digger, Alison and Robert
On Robert and Alison’s return from shopping, we set off for the Fehmarsund Bridge. It is advertised as
having 22m clearance. Wotan has an air draft of 18.9m plus aerials and burgees which add another
2m. This was going to be tight. We had a very pleasant sail up to Fehmarsund until a dirty great black
cloud appeared. The wind went through 180º. That we could handle. However, as we approached the
bridge, the father and mother of a F8 squall came through dead on the nose. Visibility dropped to
nothing. The only solution was to about turn and keep in the deep area to the east of the bridge as
there was no chance that we would find the narrow ditch up which we had approached the bridge.
Motored back and forth south east of the bridge until the visibility improved and the sea quietened down
a bit. Eventually we summoned up enough courage to attempt the bridge. We got through unscathed,
but there was not much room to spare. We had planned to anchor in Orther Bucht, but the bottom was
so weedy that we simply dragged. We gave up and went into Orth, which village gives its name to the
bay. Orth is a long narrow harbour where we rafted alongside another yacht. Once again, we were very
relieved to be safely tucked up in harbour after a very windy passage.
Orth harbour in the sunshine
We slipped and gently pootled down to the entrance to Orth Harbour and the scene of last night’s
dragging anchor. The world was a very different place from last night! I was keen to visit Rensburg on
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the Kiel Kanal as I had heard good things about it. To get there was a 36 mike hike to Holtenau at the
eastern end of the Kiel Kanal followed by a further 19 miles on to Rendsburg. We set the main more in
hope than in the expectation that it would give us any assistance as the wind was, as usual, dead
ahead. We motored all the way to Holtenau where we were able to enter the lock as we arrived.
Robert has spent three days in Rensburg some years ago trying to have an engine that would only go
forward, repaired. On the opposite bank of the Kiel Kanal from Rensburg was a shipyard which turned
out top end super yachts, an example of which was lying moored outside the yard. We had dinner in
the marina restaurant, which proved to be very good.
After a quick shop in a conveniently located supermarket, Alison and I went for a wander into
Rensburg. Rensburg turned out to be an attractive little town with some fine old buildings and a solid
church.
Digger negotiates the Kiel Kanal
In the early afternoon we slipped from Rensburg dock to complete the remaining 43 odd miles to
Brunsbüttel, where we moored in the marina adjacent to the Kiel Kanal locks.
I went for a wander into Brunsbüttel in search of some charts for the Elbe. Brunsbüttel consists of one
long straight street running down to the lock. The street was lined with fairground stalls and booths
selling food and kiss me quick clothing. The town was clearly en fête. I found the chart that I was
looking for in a bookshop.
Our departure for Wedel was entirely dependent on the start of the flood tide in the Elbe. We called the
lockkeeper who told us that there would be a lock opening at 1330. We slipped at 1315 and waited and
waited for the lock. Barge after barge and ship after ship entered to lock before us as they had priority.
Instead of the two or three yachts waiting to enter as there were at 1330 the number had increased to
some 30 yachts.
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Yacht ablaze at Brunsbüttel locks
At 1445 we saw smoke issuing from a yacht near the Brunsbüttel marina. We joined the line of yachts
going to the aid of the casualty. Before we got there, a German yacht had picked up the crew of the
casualty from the water. The yacht by this time was drifting towards to northern lock and billowing a
plume of thick black smoke. Police and fire brigade sirens began to sound, a police motor boat
approached the yacht, but stood off for fear of a gas bottle exploding. A tug appeared from across the
canal and began to spray water on the yacht. The tug was soon supported by firemen hosing water
over the yacht from the shore. The mast toppled over as the fibreglass holding the shrouds melted. As
the water began to extinguish the flames, the black smoke turned to steam. The fire almost certainly
started in galley. It was terrifying how quickly the fire took hold. In the event, the fire could not have
happened in a better place with all the resources of Brunsbüttel to hand. I hate to think what could have
happened further up the canal, in the Elbe or, God forbid, at sea. It was a salutary lesson.
Eventually we entered the lock at 1525 behind two enormous barges with scrum of other yachts, some
of whom were left outside. We chummed up with a German yacht that had been waiting for the lock
even longer than we had been. We rafted alongside it. The lock astern of us was packed with yachts
bumping into each other. At 1545 we final entered the Elbe and headed upstream for Wedel. Our delay
meant that the prospect of flogging a further 10 miles up to the centre of Hamburg was out of the
question. The Elbe seems to go on for ever. The distance from Brunsbüttel to Wedel was 30 miles,
though we were certainly helped by the stream. We docked in Wedel marina at 1930. Wedel Marina is
huge. It has 2100 berths, two harbours and two harbour masters! We had a last dinner together in the
marina restaurant.
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Wedel marina
We completed our cruise successfully though we had some really horrid weather on the legs to
Lauterbach and to Fehmarn Island. Otherwise the weather was generally fair. We did an inordinate
amount of motoring, which seems to have been a feature of the 2015 Baltic cruising season.
Fourth leg Hamburg to Flushing (8th – 22nd August)
Alison, Digger and Robert all left by taxi in the late morning. They dropped me off in town to meet up
with David Cunningham and Michel van Biers, who had given me so much help commissioning Wotan
back in June. They flew into Hamburg Airport and took the S-Bahn direct from the airport to Wedel. This
makes it a very convenient place to change crew. David, who had been up most of the night retired to
sleep. Michel and I walked into Wedel by a country path to do the shopping. We found an excellent
supermarket in the middle of town.
Hamburg (Wedel) to Flushing
35
David had come out to Wotan armed with a slider car for the main and a new aerial for the Navtex. We
replaced the slider car in minutes and screwed the Navtex aerial in the wet hanging locker where it
would be protected from the elements. We also managed to repair the compass light, something which
had eluded Digger and me the previous day. Michel and David are great people to repair yachts with as
they know exactly what to do and what is needed.
After a pit stop at the fuel dock, we were off on the morning tide down the Elbe. There is one rule about
the Elbe, don’t even think about trying to stem the tide, it does not work! It is 45 miles from Wedel to
Cuxhaven which could reach on one tide. We stopped off to refuel in the marina at Cuxhaven and to
have dinner before we set off again on the first of the ebb.
We slipped soon after midnight and headed into the Elbe. The traffic had picked up significantly since
yesterday and the ebb was beginning to run quite strongly. The Navionics chartplotter on my iPad
proved to be a real blessing as the lights were quite confusing. We needed all hands on deck to keep a
look-out. By 0300 we were at the mouth of the Elbe and we were able to set course north of the
Friesland Islands and south of the Traffic Separation Scheme. We motored all the way to Ameland,
there being no wind to speak of. Once we were out of the Elbe in the open sea, life became a lot
simpler. We could let Nicole the autopilot do the work and set watches.
The Riffgat windfarm off Borkum
In the early afternoon we came past the wind farm which had so confused Baz Taylor last year as it
was not shown on my long superannuated charts. The turbine blades were all in place and there were
two boats guarding the wind farm. In the UK you are allowed to navigate inside a wind farm. I expect
that in Germany this is prohibited. We did not try to find out! Soon after the wind farm we crossed into
Dutch waters. Come 2000 we had all had enough and did not fancy another night at sea.
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Botta off Ameland
We decided to duck into the Molengat off Ameland for the night. I had a very old chart of the Friesian
Islands that bore little or no resemblance to the chart shown in my iPad, which is updated regularly. We
chose to believe the iPad. We could have taken a shortcut down a secondary channel and indeed we
saw a yacht doing just that, but we chose the buoyed channel instead.
We found ourselves sailing amongst a fleet of bottas, flat bottomed sailing vessels with lee boards and
gaff rigged mainsails. They were a lovely sight. They were heading up to Nes, the main town and port
of Ameland. The depth was such that this was not an option for us. We anchored out in the channel half
a mile offshore, an unusual anchorage. We in fact had a very peaceful night.
We weighed anchor early in the morning and motored out down the Molengat of Ameland and through
the channel between Ameland and Terschelling. At 1000 we set the main rather more in hope than in
any expectation that it would give us any drive. As we approached the Molengat of Texel the wind
picked up and we were able to sail. The Navionics chartplotter held us in good stead as the buoys in
the Molengat channel had been changed radically since my charts were produced back in 1994.
Entrance to Oudeschild, Texel
37
We berthed at the Waddensee Marina in Oudeschild, which has become something of a favourite of
mine. We repaired to the café restaurant for some beers and dinner, which Michel very kindly stood
David and me. In the morning, Michel and I wandered into town. I had not been into Oudeschild before,
it turned out to be rather attractive.
I was rather excited to be revisiting the Ijsselmeer. I had not sailed there since I was a teenager when I
had had my first experience of offshore sailing, if you can call it that, in a Royal Dutch Navy 32’ van der
Stadt. We sailed almost all the way to Den Oever, where we locked into the Ijsselmeer. The locks are
brilliantly organised for yachtsmen, with ropes you can hang onto and conveniently placed bollards. The
sports boats are directed into one lock and the commercial vessels to another. No one asked for any
money for raising the bridge or opening the lock. There were bottas galore all looking splendid and
being handled with great aplomb by young skippers and their girlfriends, while the guests did practically
nothing!
We arrived in Enkhuizen at 1800 and docked in a large marina to the northeast of the town which was
but a short walk from town. We rather fell in love with Enkhuizen as it had a beautiful tower at its
entrance and canals lined with old houses. I discovered from the guide book that the reason that some
of the houses were tilted forward was to stop goods being hauled up to the warehouses at the top of
the houses from bumping into the front of the houses. We found a delightful restaurant overlooking a
canal for dinner.
The Dromidaris Tower, Enkhuizen
I had fortunately bought a new chart for the Ijsselmeer in Oudeschild as many things had changed. For
example, an extra lock for sports boats had been constructed to the south of Enkhuizen. The road had
been tunnelled below the lock, which did away with the road bridge. The lock was full to bursting, but
everything went smoothly. We were soon in the Markermeer, which is a subdivision of the Ijsselmeer.
We were able to sail all the way to Hoorn. Hoorn has an enormous marina, but one which was really
meant for boats 32’ or less. I tried to berth in a box berth inside the first pontoon. It soon became
obvious that I would not be able to turn Wotan tightly enough to get in. We were directed by helpful
locals to a berth on the outside that fitted us perfectly.
38
The Binnehaven, Hoorn with the Hoofdtoren in the background
Had we been really brave we would have berthed in the Binnehaven under the tower. Hoorn was en
fête, fairground equipment lined the streets. The noise was too much for us oldies so we were pleased
to find a quiet a quiet spot for dinner overlooking the Binnehaven.
We motored all the way to Amsterdam, passing under the road bridge and through the lock into the
Nord Zee Kanal. We had been warned that Amsterdam would be full because of the Tall Ships festival
and the Amsterdam Boat Show in the main Amsterdam Marina. We popped into Sixhaven marina
ignoring the no entry sign at the entrance. There was absolutely no room so we backed out gingerly.
We puttered up past the railway station and found a berth in a small marina called the City IJ marina,
hard by the Palace of Justice. The IJ Marina is very conveniently placed for the centre of Amsterdam.
You need to call the number at the entrance to have the footbridge raised so you can enter the marina.
Michel left us to go and stay with some friends who lived nearby. David and I set off into town trying to
avoid the Red Light District. We found a restaurant to the South West of the station called ‘t Zwantje or
the Cygnet, on the Berenstraat where we had a really good dinner.
39
The Schreierstoren, Amsterdam
I decided that I could no longer rely upon my elderly charts and that I would to breakdown and replace
them. I found a chart seller called LV Harri near the railway station. On the way to meet David
Habershon, who was joining us by train, we dropped into LV Harri’s. The bookshop was in the
Schreierstoren, which was the old harbour master’s office, above a bar. You had to climb up a steep
and dangerous spiral staircase to reach the shop. The owner could not have been more helpful. In
particular he warned us about the footbridge at Alphen aan der Rijn, which had collapsed and was
blocking the canal. I had heard of this problem but I had been lead to believe that it only affected the
Schipol mast up route. He looked it up on the net and confirmed that the Queen Juliana Bridge was
south of the junction of the Harlem and Schipol routes, so we would have to go outside down the North
Sea coast. On the strength of this advice I purchased all the charts that I needed. We would have to
enter the Delta Scheme south of the Hook of Holland.
David Habershon, my daughter Henri’s father-in-law, had found his own way to Wotan and was waiting
for us! After a good zizz we went back to the ‘t Zwantje restaurant which was packed out with queues
down the street.
We slipped our moorings at IJ Dock just as another yacht was leaving, which saved a call to the remote
bridge keeper. We left at 0930 to ensure that we would catch the south going stream from Ijmuiden to
Scheveningen. We had a 15 mile motor to the locks at Ijmuiden. As usual we were pursued by a
Customs cutter which we had seen stopping a Dutch yacht heading for Amsterdam. Perhaps they
looked us up on their computer and found that they had boarded us last year! We entered the Kliene
Slussen without much delay. Then things went badly wrong. The bridge in front of us refused to open
and the lock behind us would not open either. We were trapped! An Environmental Agency patrol boat
that entered the lock with us could escape because it could pass under the bridge. We were asked to
be patient as a mechanic was on his way. We settled down to lunch and waited. Finally at 1430 we
were released. The bad news was that we lost much of the southerly stream so the last three hours of
the voyage was spent battling against a 1.8 knot current.
By 1915 we were off the entrance to Scheveningen. We entered the marina, which was in the old
fishing dock, a few minutes later to find it choc full. We eventually got hold of the harbour master who
by moving another boat was able to squeeze us in.
40
A rather wet Scheveningen marina
We had to be up at 0600 to let the yacht inside us leave. It was a miserable day. It was raining and the
wind had increased since last night. This was perhaps the reason why I took 6 attempts to dock Wotan
backwards into its slot. It did not take long to decide that we would not be going anywhere. Nor
unsurprisingly was anyone else. I had thought about going into The Hague, but it would have been no
fun in the pouring rain. I was down below when I saw a yacht back straight passed us. I commented
how well the skipper had effected the manoeuvre, though, somewhat caddishly, I pointed out that he
did have a bow-thruster. I thought no more about it and retired back to my bunk. At about lunchtime
there was a knock on the coach roof. This was John de Trafford RCC, who had come in in Alisara. It
was he who had brought Alisara in so beautifully. He said that amongst others Monique Browne was on
board and she would like to meet me again. We invited them around for tea and cucumber sandwiches.
I was invited by John to have a look at Alisara, for which design he had been awarded the rarely
awarded RCC Bluebird Cup. The yacht was beautifully designed by Rob Humphreys and John. It had a
lifting keel, rotating mast and ballast tanks. The thought that had gone into the design was remarkable.
We had a very amusing tea party with the crew of Alisha. I met Peter Marlin Jones, aka Spike, who had
shared a Sigma 33 with Dr Tom Trevelyan a friend of mine from Itchenor.
The next morning the weather showed no signs of improving so both we and Alisara decided to stay
put. In the afternoon we took a tram to The Hague. Habs was in his element as he loves trams.
41
The Girl with the pearl earring by Vermeer
We visited the Mauritshuis, which has the most fabulous collection of 17th Century Dutch masters,
including the Girl with the Pearl Earring, The Anatomy Lesson and Rembrandt’s last self portrait painted
in the year of his death.
With the change in weather, the marina cleared like snow in summer. Alisara left before we had even
got up. We were awakened by our next door neighbour at 0700 as he wanted to leave. We left at 1030
to catch the tide down past the Hook of Holland and into the Haringvlietsluzen. The south east wind
appeared to hold up the change of tidal stream, but made for delightfully smooth sailing. We were
warned by Reeds to motor past the entrance to the Hook of Holland and to follow the small boat route.
We called Mass Entrance and were granted permission to transit the entrance. We noticed that other
yachts were being asked to wait until large ships had cleared the entrance. Europort is a truly
enormous harbour. Near the Mass entrance, the tidal stream perked up and we were thrown around
quite a bit by the sea kicked up by the wind over tide. Once past the Mass entrance we held our course
until we were able to make the entrance to the channel leading up to Stellendam. We now had an
excellent set of Dutch charts and the Navionics charts on my iPad which, for a change, were in total
agreement. We were soon through the lock and bridge at Stellendam along with a gaggle of other
yachts. We were able to make the 1830 opening of the Haringvliet Bridge and were tied up under the
ramparts of Willemstad by 1900.
42
Willemstad
Willemstad is a beautiful place. The town is built within the ramparts and appears to be little changed
from the time it was built in 1583. It seemed to have survived the ravages of WWII intact. We were
moored in the marina in the moat of the castle. We went into Willemstad for dinner in a restaurant overlooking the harbour.
We had 40 miles to cover including three locks, in two of which we would need to use the main
commercial locks as our mast was too tall for the yachtsluis. The first lock was the Volkerraksluis which
was barely a mile away from our berth in Willemstad. We were soon locked in with the big boys. For
some reason it took us the best part of an hour to exit the lock. There was no way that we could sail as
there was little wind and we were on a tight timetable. The commercial traffic along these canals is
intense. Most of the canal barges have a car on top of the coach rook and a hydraulic crane to off load
the car. If you are really smart you have two cars, his and hers!
David Habs and David Cunningham
43
Our next lock did not prove to be so accommodating. We were asked to wait an hour and a half before
we could enter the lock. Just as we were about to enter we were asked to wait for the most enormous
pusher combination that you have ever seen. There were two barges in line ahead and a third barge
alongside the front barge. It must have been 300’ long. The problem arose when this monster tried to
move. It took almost 10 minutes before the combo exited the lock. The propeller was thrashing away
trying to achieve traction, while not a lot was happening! The displacement of the barges and their
cargoes must have been many hundreds of tons.
Our final hurdle was the Zandercreeksluis. At least here we could go in with the yachts and not have to
mix it with the big boys. The final leg was along the Veersemeer, which was quite narrow and rather
attractive.
We first of all tried to dock in the town harbour under the walls of Veere. The inner harbour at Veere
looked so full that I thought that I would never get out again. In fact, had I gone in backwards, we would
probably have been able to berth. The kind harbour master at the Veere marina, on the Walcheren
canal, found us a berth for the night.
Veere was a fortified town like Willemstad, but one by one its bastions had fallen down leaving only the
Campveerse Tower, which had morphed into an upmarket hotel. Veere survived the war almost intact.
The Binnehaven, Veere
The view from the Campveerse Tower up the Binnehaven with its old bridge is lovely. The church is
impressive and as with many churches in the area it had a campanile tower with some 15 bells that
played a clarion on the hour and half hour. We tarried for a coffee and croissant before heading south
to Middleburg. We snagged the last place in the lock as the lock-keeper kindly kept the lock open for
us. This was probably the only true Dutch canal that we went down. It had cows on one side and sheep
on the other, with bicyclists and scooter riders on the path beside the canal. The polder, if that is the
right name, on which the animals grazed was some 15 to 20 feet below the level of the canal.
44
Binnehaven, Middleburg
We moored in Middelburg near the centre of town. While there are some beautiful old parts, much of
the town was destroyed in WWII. We motored the remaining 4 miles to Flushing. This took us the best
part of three hours as we had to have four bridges raised for us in mid-rush hour. What I had not
understood was that there are organised convoys for which the bridges are primed ready to open. We
had booked a berth in the Vlissingen YC. The marina was old but well-appointed with a good restaurant
and bar.
We had an end of cruise celebration in the YC restaurant. Despite losing two days in Scheveningen we
made our rendez-vous in Flushing with time to spare. If the mast up route had been as slow as our
route between Veere and Flushing, we would never have arrived! I would have loved to have tarried
longer in Holland because you could spend for ever exploring her towns and waterways.
Fifth leg Flushing to Itchenor (22nd August – 4th September)
Flushing to Itchenor
45
David Cunningham took the foot ferry over to Breskens. In the early afternoon my new crew, which
consisted of Mike and Pally Gibb and John Theophilus arrived by car from the Eurotunnel. MarieChristine, John’s partner, then kindly drove David Habs back home. We then did a monster shop in the
appropriately named and now familiar Jumbo supermarket.
With little to detain us, we set off at 1030 on Sunday to lock into the Schelde. We were soon through
the lock and sailing down wind and downstream towards Ostend under full No.3 genoa. There was an
impressive stream of traffic heading up the Schelde towards Antwerp. We had a great sail past
Zeebrugge and into Ostend. The coast is not particularly attractive with high rise apartment blocks and
hotels lining the shore. We had booked a berth in the Royal North Sea YC marina near the entrance to
the harbour. The big advantage of this marina is that you don’t have to lock in.
As we had anticipated, forecast was for foul weather for the next few days so we decided to stay put. In
the end we stayed for four days, the longest that I have ever been holed up!
Mike and Pally set off by train to Bruges. OAPs can travel anywhere in Belgium by rail for €6.50 return.
John, who had bruised his back quite badly having lost his footing while getting off the boat, and I
stayed on board. The wind increased during the afternoon. I certainly would not have wanted to be out
at sea. John and I went for a brief wander in town. Ostend looked as if it had been very badly damaged
in WWII. We saw few, if any, old buildings. There was an old Cappucin monastery not far from the
harbour.
Pally and John on the promenade at Ostend
John and I wandered down to the sea front where the young were racing around on multiple pedal
cycles. There were some large red sculptures, which we had seen from the boat. They were
constructed of sheet steel and I was intrigued as to how they were constructed.
John and I decided that it was our turn to go to Bruges. We walked up from the station towards the
central market place, stopping on the way to look at the cathedral, half of which was under
reconstruction and therefore off limits
46
Town Hall, Bruges
The market in the market square was in full swing. The smell of the cheese stalls was fabulous. The
town hall was something of a statement! We walked north to the old Hanseatic quarter, which, though
small, had some lovely buildings that ran alongside the canal. We wandered back to the station along
the old ramparts of the city above a canal that had formed the moat.
The forecast for Thursday was SW6-7. We were stuck for yet another day in Ostend. Mike and Pally
headed off to Ghent, while I set about repairing the blue ensign and the burgee. I had advertised this
cruise as a gentle gastronomic sail around the Seine Bay. It was not turning out like that at all! I found
that the Meteo France Bulletins Expertisés were excellent for coastal weather forecasts looking 3-4
days ahead. They were much more detailed than the very general UK Met Office Extended Outlook.
The next few days were looking a lot better.
I had the crew up at 0530 for a 0600 start. Dawn was beginning to break as we were leaving. The plan
was to take the tide down to Dunkirk East, wait there during the foul tide and then to take the tide down
to Calais. The first leg to Dunkirk was 27 miles. The wind was, needless to say, almost dead on the
nose, so we motored all the way. There are sandbanks lining the coast with channels in between them
which we could take advantage of, periodically shifting to an outer, or inner, channel, for example as we
did through the Zuydcoote Channel. This explains why the Small Ships were so essential to take the
troops off the beaches at Dunkirk as the larger naval ships could not get over the sandbanks except
perhaps at high tide. It was moving thinking of the plight of the soldiers pinned down on the beach
waiting for lift out to a destroyer being dive bombed and strafed all the while. We came in past the
famous mole where the bigger ship lay alongside to evacuate the troops, who could march through
Dunkirk, onto the mole and onto a waiting destroyer or other transport. Others, who were not so
fortunate had to stand up to their necks in cold sea water waiting for a small ship to take them off. We
berthed in the Grande Large marina, which had plenty of space. Mike and Pally went ashore to visit a
museum about the Dunkirk Evacuation.
47
The bridge and memorial commemorating the evacuation at Dunkirk. The Memorial is made from
cobblestones taken for the mole.
At 1600 we slipped our moorings again and headed out to sea. Dunkirk is now an enormous industrial
and petrochemical complex that stretches from East Dunkirk, where we berthed, to the harbour at West
Dunkirk, where yachts are not permitted. As we were passing the entrance to East Dunkirk, we came
across the ferry Delft Seaways coming in to Dunkirk. I thought that she would be going along the coast
to east Dunkirk, but instead she shot into West Dunkirk. Little did I realise that its sister ship, Dover
Seaways, was coming out at the same time! It all got a bit interesting! We kept on motoring all the way
to Calais. Calais is guarded by the Ridens de Calais, which is a shifting sandbank which extends to the
west of the harbour entrance. This explains why ferries from Dover take a loop to the west before
coming in along the coast. I took the advice of the Reeds, which suggested that yachts should
approach Calais by going around CA4. My chart and chartplotter were old but the Navionics chart on
the iPad was much more up to date. I should have used that to set a course into Calais as we got down
to 2.4 m, Wotan draws 2.3m. It is always best in sandy areas to have the very latest charts. I should
have learnt the lesson!
I called the Port Control for permission to enter as three red port signal lights were on. I was told to get
in as fast as possible as a ferry was about to depart. We made it before he was off his berth! We picked
up a waiting buoy outside the marina lock for the night.
Calais harbour at dawn
48
We slipped under motor at 0615. We rounded Cap Gris Nez at 0800 and headed south in company
with a Danish yacht that had been moored near us in Calais. The conditions were fine so we simply
followed the inshore shipping channel outside the delightfully named Basure de Baas.
Mike and Pally Gibb
By 1000 the wind had piped up sufficiently for us to sail. We set the main and No.3 genoa and had a
thoroughly good sail for a change. By 1530 the wind had dropped so that we rolled the genoa and
motor sailed the remaining 17 miles to Dieppe. We docked in the marina which is well organised for and
welcoming to visitors. Dieppe itself looked rather depressed with the air of a slightly up market Margate.
To get the full benefit of the tide we would have had to have left at 0200! I did not think that after two
0530 wake-up calls that this would meet with universal approval! In the event, we cleared the entrance
at 0630. The coast all the way down to Cap d’Antifer is made up of cliffs dropping straight into the sea
with small villages in the valleys that give onto the sea. This coast is very like the Jurassic coast in
Dorset. I feel sure that it is full of dinosaur fossils. We took lots of photos of the famous natural rock
bridge at Étretat that was such a favourite subject for the Impressionists.
The rock arches at Etretat
I was interested to see a small tanker going into Fécamp on the top of the tide. I had never thought of
Fécamp as a commercial port, though no doubt at some time it exported a lot of Benedictine! We
rounded the Cap d’Antifer oil terminal and headed south towards the Petit Rade, just north of Le Havre,
where we would anchor to await the tide up the Seine to Honfleur.
49
Suffice it to say, I got my secondary port calculations wrong and we ended up fighting the tide up to
Honfleur. We finally arrived at the lock at 2000, but since the tide was too low, we could not get over the
sill. There was nothing for it but to put the engine into slow tick over and wait. We stemmed the tide for
an hour, whilst consuming the last of the gin! Eventually after the tide had risen sufficiently for us to
cross the sill, we were allowed in. We were intrigued to find that we were going up in the lock on the
tide, even before the lock gates were shut! Once out of the lock we were soon moored on the visitors’
pontoon outside the Vieux Bassin and hurrying into town to catch last orders. We found a restaurant,
very conveniently placed overlooking the La Lieutenance building by the lock. As we headed home, we
found that a Spanish Galleon had moored on the waiting dock outside the bridge.
The Nao Vittoria, a replica of Magellan’s ship that circumnavigated in 1552, with the Lieutenance
behind
We had planned to sail to Ouistreham on the morning tide. Come 1000 it was pouring with rain with
very poor visibility that amounted to fog. Since there was no likelihood of a clearance, we decided upon
a duvet day in port. During the afternoon John, Mike and Pally went for a walk up to the Chapelle de
Notre Dame, the seamen’s church on the top of the hill behind Honfleur overlooking the Seine estuary.
This was where you went for a blessing before setting off on a long sea voyage.
50
The Signal station, Honfleur
Next morning, we had a fond last wander around town, in my case visiting the lovely wooden
Fisherman’s Church, built by shipwrights, before heading off to the 1130 lock. This time the lock only
had to drop a few centimetres and we were out into the Rouen Canal. We motored down the canal until
at R7 we set the genoa and headed for Ouistreham. Three hours later, we were docked at the
Ouistreham waiting pontoon, awaiting the 1700 lock. We were soon tied up in the marina on the east
bank of the Caen canal.
John had been told by a friend about a restaurant just across the lock from the marina called Le Roulis.
When we arrived the place was packed. It was not hard to see why the restaurant was so popular as
the food was excellent.
Along with most of the rest of the marina, we headed out for the 1045 lock. It seems that almost all
retired males in Ousitreham go out sea fishing in the summer. Once out of the lock they headed for the
wrecks, which litter the coast and which provide a good home for fish, to drop their lines. There was a
young lady sailing a Figaro boat singlehanded. She raised her mainsail deftly as we went down the
channel. She then sped off into the distance, no doubt in training for a course en solitaire.
Off the entrance, we set the main with a reef and motor-sailed to Arromanches. We anchored as close
to the beach as we dared as the tide was ebbing. Mike, Pally and I sallied forth in the dinghy towards
the beach and the Arromanches Museum. Needless to say, we got soaked jumping out of the dinghy in
the surf, but at least the outboard motor had kept on running. John sensibly stayed on board nursing his
sore ribs.
51
Wotan anchored in Port Winston at Arromanches-sur-Mer
The museum is superb. It tells the story of the Mulberry Harbour, the ingenuity and effort that went into
building it. Apparently, work did not start on the construction of the Phoenixes, the concrete
breakwaters, or the Mulberries, the floating roadways and docks, until the autumn of 1943. Bearing in
mind the work required and that D-Day was in June 1944, it was cutting things pretty fine. The US
Harbour, which was protected by floating breakwaters, Bombardons, was destroyed in the storm of 12th
June. The Mulberry harbour survived but many ships and inshore craft were wrecked. We had to
anchor further out for the night. The evening and the first part of the night was reasonably comfortable
but at about 0300 we swung with the tide across the swell and life became decidedly less comfortable!
We left early next morning and motor sailed to St Vaast. The advantage of Port Winston was that we
could leave whenever we liked and were not constrained by tides or locks. It is always best to sail along
the Seine Bay coast on neap tides. That way you are not always chasing your tail trying to get into
locks before they close on you or having to wait until the tide comes back in. On neap tides you can sail
east with the stream while the tide is low and pick your time both to leave your departure lock and to
enter your destination lock. All the harbours along this coast, apart from Port Winston, have locks or
gates.
A restored fishing boat enters St Vaast
52
St Vaast as always was its beautiful self. Mike, Pally and John went exploring around St Vaast, while I
caught up on ship’s business which included planning our return to Itchenor. They returned to tell me
that they had booked us into the Fuschia restaurant and this was their treat. I have always loved the
Fuschia restaurant, which is part of the Hotel de France. Little had changed since I had been there
some years ago. We had a delicious dinner. On the way back to the boat, we crossed the harbour gate.
Below us there was just mud and a little trickle of water. It was funny to think that we would be sailing
out through that gate next morning.
The lock opening times at St Vaast and high tide at Chichester Bar dictated that we had to leave St
Vaast at 0400. This meant a 0330 wake up call. The crew were up for this and we were soon
underway. We set the main with one reef more in hope than in expectation that we would be able to
make our course. In the event we had to motor sail all the way. I felt that a morale boosting bacon and
egg sandwich was called for. The shipping in the Channel caused us little problem. We only had to slow
down once to allow Lisa, a dry cargo vessel, to pass ahead of us. AIS is a wonderful system that
identifies any vessel that might be a danger to you and gives its Closest Point of Approach (CPA) and
the Time to Closest Point of Approach (TCPA), based upon your latest course and speed. The other
advantage of the system is that you can identify a ship that is on the Danger List and, if needs be, call it
up by name. By 1000 we sighted the Isle of Wight, but there was still quite a way to go yet. We arrived
at Chi West Pole at 1515 and docked on the Itchenor SC pontoon at 1600.
Mike, Ant, John and Pally with Wotan safely back Itchenor SC after a 2000 mile cruise from the Baltic
In time honoured fashion, we raised the flags of all the countries that we had visited on the forestay
including Holland, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, the Åland Islands, Finland, Estonia, Poland, Belgium
and France for the usual photo call. Soon Bim, who had kept the home fires burning while I was away,
moving slowly but remarkably well after her knee replacement operation, and Seraphina were down at
Wotan. They were followed by Baz Taylor and Colin Maclean, both of whom had sailed on Wotan
during her Baltic cruise.
53
Conclusion
This last leg from Flushing to Itchenor proved to be the most demanding. No sooner had we left
Flushing than we found ourselves holed up in Ostend for four days. This was the first time that I had
ever been holed up in a harbour for so long. This then put tremendous pressure on the crew to reach
the Seine Bay so that they could enjoy the delights of such places as Honfleur and St Vaast. We had to
do long hops from Ostend to Honfleur simply to catch up.
I would like to thank all my crew who put up with me for so long and were such great shipmates. I hope
that they enjoyed themselves as much as I did. This cruise embraced a number of different styles of
cruising. First the archipelago cruising around the Ålands and the Stockholm Skärgård, with rocks to
dodge and a myriad of islands and anchorages. This was followed by cruising along the sandy shores
of Poland, an area rarely visited by British yachts, then into the inland seas and estuaries of Baltic
Germany. After a long haul past the Friesian Islands we entered the Ijsselmeer and the Dutch canal
system with its inland lakes and charming historic towns and cities. Then finally along the Belgian and
French Channel coasts with its large commercial ports and then into the Seine Bay, so well-known to
British yachtsmen. If I was doing it again I would take another year over the cruise, may be laying up in
Denmark, a country I had visited briefly in 2014. All in all the answer is not to hurry but to tarry!
Sadly, this will probably be the last extended log that I will write as I have put Wotan up for sale. I am
planning to share a boat in warmer climes. Wotan has been a major part of my life for more than 10
years. She has taken me across the Atlantic and back, up to the Baltic through the Göta Canal and up
to Bergen, across to Shetland, around the Western Isles and back again to Itchenor. Then she took me
out to the Azores and back, before spending a couple of seasons sailing around the Channel. As her
last major cruise she took me to the Baltic and back. In all, I have covered well over 30,000 miles in
her. She is ready to cross oceans again. I will miss her and the companionship that I have experienced
sailing in her.
Ant Fawcett
22nd March 2016
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