The rays of the autumn sun are already falling flat across the lake as Anton Schwarz looks south-west from the jetty. Over there, halfway between Andechs and Schondorf, is the only dinghy cruiser that has not yet returned. And "standing" is the most appropriate meaning of the word. Hardly a breath stirs the water on this picturesque day, one of the last before the boat hire goes into its winter break. For the crew, who wanted to get out on the Ammersee for a few more hours in the afternoon, it was going to be a tough return.
Schwarz, once a highly decorated helmsman and even world champion in the Flying Dutchman in 1982, smiles softly. The sailors had just called and asked if he could perhaps tow them in if the last breeze should fall asleep. "Yes," he said into the phone in his calm, considered manner, "but for now, just sail as far as you can."
Shortly afterwards, as if he had suspected it, a gentle south-westerly swell actually sets in. The boat that Anton Schwarz, his wife Sonja and their youngest daughter Martina usually take out fishing and occasionally have to use for salvage operations remains in the boathouse. No need to burn fuel when a little patience and sensitivity with the sheets and tiller will do the trick.
The two of them on the Jolli make it back to the jetty before six o'clock, without straining the closing time at the boat hire shop. Their faces are glowing, not only because of the sun, but also with pride and enthusiasm because they have found their way back without any outside help, on a Jolli as pure and unadulterated as it was more than half a century ago when it was carpentered in East Germany.
It's a magical place, this family-run business on Seestraße in Schondorf am Ammersee. A refuge for those seeking peace and quiet, a gem for gentle tourism, an unrivalled, simple yet enchantingly beautiful place for sailors and those who want to become one.
Above all, however, it is probably the most sustainable nautical enterprise of its kind - a model of how things can work when business is not characterised by growth, change and disruption, but by the exact opposite: preserving values, maintaining tradition and, yes, a frugality that can hardly be found anywhere else in this form.
It is most obvious on the jetty that runs alongside the old boathouse on two levels to the lake. The larch planks are greyed by the sun of many summers, the wood is noticeably shrinking between the annual rings. Iron rings have left traces on both sides, bolted through the supporting beams with eyebolts. The boats are moored to these during the season, but often the gap between two boards is also sufficient to attach fore or aft lines. A figure-of-eight knot is tied to the end of these so that they cannot accidentally slip through when pulled.
In the evening and in the morning, only the 15-p dinghy cruisers are moored here. Like the rest of the Schwarz flotilla, they are all wooden boats: hulls and decks made of clear varnished mahogany, keelson and floor beams made of oak, frames made of ash. They date from the 1960s and were built in East Berlin at the Friedrichshagen shipyard, a state-owned enterprise. Anton Schwarz's father, who friends called Toni and who was also a gifted sailor, did not import them from the GDR. He gradually bought them second or third hand.
In the shed, which is open to the lake and whose floor can be raised on old chain hoists or lowered to the level of the water, there are even more treasures: wooden pirates from the long-gone Walser boatyard on Lake Starnberg. The first, named "Felch", dates from 1958: "It was my father's regatta boat," says Schwarz. All the others are simply labelled with letters, short and sweet. And then there are the sturdy rowing boats with clinkered hulls, which can be propelled to respectable speeds in shallow water if you put your strength and endurance into the oars.
The boats are lined up close together. There are even some hanging from the ceiling. No space remains unused. In the dim light that falls through the almost windowless building, the hire centre looks like a kind of open-air museum. Although intensively used, everything here is in remarkably good condition. Many P-boats and dinghies never reach the condition in which Anton Schwarz keeps his fleet, even when owned. And he has not yet carried out a single total refit, nor has he replaced a single hull. That would never occur to him anyway. He says with a convincing tone in his voice:
The wood has to be able to work"
The boats are known far beyond the region and are extremely popular on nice weekends or during holidays; sailors often queue up for them. Where else can you hire such gems for a few hours these days, timeless classics that outlast every fashion, are sustainable, retain their value and are maintained by such expert hands?
It is hard to estimate how much love and labour Anton Schwarz puts into his treasures. However, he himself plays down the effort. "The pirates and the rowing boats are protected from the sun and moisture in the boathouse. They only come out when they're in use." That's why, he says, even after 60 or 65 years, they are "still in top condition underwater". During the season, he and his daughter Martina, who now works full-time in the company after completing her studies, go through every boat with a sponge; they never leave water in the bilge or even sand residue from a swim stop, which could damage the paint sealant.
In winter, I overhaul the boats, always one a week. If necessary, I also mend sails, sew new canvas or build tarpaulins"
Of course, there is more to do with the dinghy cruisers. Not only because they are moved the most and are the first to be fully booked, but above all because they are always in the water. To give them the best possible protection, Schwarz has used a special second-hand sewing machine to make tarpaulins that extend deep over the deck edges. The sun has nevertheless bleached them. Colour changes in the hull show the wear and tear. The wood is darker where the paintwork has been damaged, for example during unsuccessful mooring manoeuvres or simply due to wear and tear. "You have to sand a little deeper," says Schwarz. "Then the reddish mahogany tone comes through again." Otherwise, he only removes a little of the clear varnish in winter, just as much as is necessary to avoid damaging the substance.
In this way, he has managed to keep the boats in almost their original condition year after decade, with minimal use of materials. Due to their age and design, if they were subjected to a life cycle assessment, they would have long been CO2-positive. GRP boats are usually modelled with a service life of 30 years; the Jollis are twice as old. And CO2 is bound in their wood. To refit them for so long is an achievement that would be worth an environmental award in itself.
Sometimes, however, major operations are required. This summer, for example, one of the 15s didn't go into the water at all; it stayed in the workshop, which is an oversized garage, to have the centreboard box replaced. However, the boat whisperer didn't leave it at a mere rebuild, but took the opportunity to extend the centreboard and hull aft, which promises better cruising characteristics and a little more stability. "Let's see what that brings," says Anton Schwarz, who is full of ideas for improvements.
My brain is rattling all the time"
How does he manage all this on his own, which he never really has time to do during the season? "You just have to like doing it," he says. "If I counted and calculated my hours, I could forget about it. In the end, there would be nothing left over from the boat hire."
In fact, jollies, pirates and rowing boats are just one of three pillars of the small, fine family business. The Schwarzens also run a fishery and a bed and breakfast. An aquatic form of subsistence farming, if you like.
His grandfather, who died young, was originally a farmer. He also lived the principle of self-sufficiency to a certain extent. Then came fishing, followed by hire and the guesthouse. From the 1960s at the latest, the lake became the centre of all activities. Since then, it has formed the basis for the business, which has long been founded on proximity, and even more so on a love of water.
In the past, we often sailed in the pirate regatta in the evening when everything was done. We don't have time for that now. And you get older too"
Older regulars still remember the house that originally stood here: on the ground floor there was a kitchen with simple tables and benches that, when pushed together, formed a long table where people sometimes chatted and partied long into the night. In the early evening, when the boats were back, people often met up for spontaneous regattas to the other side of the lake and back - which, of course, were always won by Schwarz senior, Bavarian and German champion in the Pirate and the Flying Dutchman, which was still an Olympic class at the time.
The construction of the new guesthouse in the early 1980s marked the only significant modernisation at Seestrasse 11, but the character of the establishment, its soul, remained as untouched as the stunning Alpine panorama that can be enjoyed on clear days in the south. Traces of the past can still be found everywhere. It's not just the boats on the jetty and in the boathouse that bear witness to a bygone era. The framed regatta pictures on the walls of the guesthouse are also reminiscent of the past, most of them in black and white, some in faded Kodachrome.
Even the car in the garage next to the workshop is vintage, as hipsters say today. An old Benz, type W123, with handlebars the size of car wheels and fluted rear lights. It belonged to the recently deceased senior and is, you guessed it, as good as new. "We hardly ever need it," says the son, who is now also 64 years old, although you wouldn't know it by looking at him. "You can do almost everything here in the village by bike." His wife Sonja drives a Golf III, which would also pass as a classic car, but now probably won't make it through the main inspection.
Consistency everywhere, consistency. The rooms of the guesthouse have remained virtually unchanged for 40 years: simply furnished, the furniture solidly built. Facing the lake with a view that makes any wall decoration or accessory superfluous. As a result, there are no televisions, not even Wi-Fi, but instead such heavenly peace and quiet that you can recognise the wind shifting at night by the gentle sound of the waves when the window is open.
Unlike other families who have achieved a certain level of prosperity in tourism over generations, they have remained remarkably true to themselves at the Schwarz in Schondorf. Unlike many Alpine villages, they have not constantly expanded their premises, added extensions and extensions, multiplied the number of rooms, grown from a guesthouse to a multi-star establishment, added a sailing school to the boat hire, expanded the accommodation to include a wellness centre or the fishing to include fine dining. Just what you do when you can and want to or think you have to.
But that's just not their way, not their thing. And it would probably never have worked. After all, who would look after the boats? Who would put out, haul in and mend the nets? Who would preheat the smoker for the freshly caught whitefish with beech wood? Who would prepare breakfast? Who was to maintain this atmosphere in which the guests all somehow feel at home?
You can find this backward-looking, perhaps even a little unworldly. But you can also call it down-to-earth and modest. A form of economic activity that may not bring great growth, but ensures closeness and familiarity - and a use of resources that is simply exemplary in view of the climate crisis that has long since become tangible.
At Schwarz, the freshly baked rolls are not served in the morning by hastily hired seasonal staff, but by the boss herself. She used to be a squad sailor in the 470 and was one of the best helmswomen in Germany in the 1980s, back then under her maiden name Sonja Frenzer. When she sat at the tiller in the FD on a temporary basis, she sometimes showed her future husband the stern or successfully blocked the Dieschs from Lake Constance, gold medallists in 1976, at the starting line.
Her relationship with her husband Anton has always been one of equals. Like him, she also trained as a fishery economist on the side and also obtained a master craftsman's licence. This enabled her to train her three daughters, all of whom also have a licence. Martina, the youngest, has now taken over the part of the business that acts as a kind of hinge between the hire and pension departments. Perhaps, who knows, she will one day continue the Schwarz saga, which has so far been so exclusively characterised by the family that it seems almost inconceivable otherwise.
Fishing also teaches us a lot about sustainability and environmental protection. And that progress is definitely being made. Stocks are no longer the same as they were 20 or 30 years ago. They can only be maintained at the current level through catch quotas and stock management. But this is "a good development", says Sonja Schwarz. "The fact that we used to have significantly more in the nets was because the inputs from the fields around the lake were higher." Now, wastewater treatment plants and ring sewers filter the nutrients and fertilisers out of the water. It has become cleaner and clearer. The weed growth on the lake bed has also decreased, which pleases bathers. Only the high temperatures are causing problems for the fish stocks. "If there is a lack of rain in spring and early summer, they go deeper," says Sonja Schwarz, to where the nets don't reach. This means that global warming, to which they themselves contribute very little, is also affecting the family business on Seestraße.