Our paths crossed for the first time in May 1968. I was a photo reporter for the "Hamburger Abendblatt" newspaper at the time, and the editors had sent me out to the Wedel marina, where a young man of 28 was moored in his small boat. Wilfried Erdmann had just made a journey into the history books in his wake: he was the first German to sail around the world alone. This voyage marked the beginning of his fantastic career.
Wilfried, who was only a year older, already had enviable cycling and sailing journeys behind him, an adventurer with experience. I had married and had a daughter.
Wilfried, the extreme sailor, did things very differently. He first went sailing alone, then with his wife Astrid and later with his son Kym. A dream come true for many people, including me: to sit on a white South Sea beach with the family and cruise across deep blue waters. I really envied him.
But I quickly realised the price he was paying for it. I'm not just talking about the hardships and exertions that a cruise under such conditions entails. The truth is that although Wilfried was rich in happy and extreme experiences that I would never be able to have in this form, he was not materially so. In fact, he orientated himself towards these priorities throughout his life. Life and experiences at sea always came first for him. And he was always honest enough to describe it that way in his numerous books.
My wife and I attended the slide shows that Wilfried gave to earn money. He told me how difficult these first public appearances were for him. His wife Astrid still helps and supports him in this task today. As a professional photographer, I marvelled at the pictures he took at these lectures, which he took "on the side" and yet so professionally.
I started taking photographs for YACHT in 1980, and my main areas of work were test and technical subjects. Then, in June 1985, I was commissioned to document Wilfried's arrival in Kiel-Schilksee after his non-stop circumnavigation. What an achievement, how did he manage that! I now had three children and a house.
Nobody knew exactly when he would arrive with his "Kathena nui". So I waited in my motorhome in Schilksee for three days beforehand. Astrid and Kym Erdmann were already there, full of anticipation. There were no mobile phones back then, but then a radio message came through on VHF: Wilfried was reporting that he was standing across from Langeland.
YACHT editor-in-chief Harald Schwarzlose and I jumped into our editorial motorboat "Tintenfisch" and headed for Kiel lighthouse. Harald had calculated that we should make visual contact at around 1.30 pm. And so it was.
We approached the "Kathena nui", but there was no sign of Wilfried. Only after calling out several times did a bobble hat emerge from the companionway. Wilfried was amazed at where we had come from: "How did you find me?" Then he jumped on deck and called out to us as if he couldn't believe it himself: "I made it!"
He was looking forward to a proper meal, preferably with a fresh egg. That was no problem for me, as I had brought hard-boiled eggs as provisions. I threw two over, which Wilfried caught and ate with relish.
In the meantime, we came across other boats on the way to Schilksee, including the yacht "Tom Kyle" with Astrid and Kym on board. I photographed the family's warm welcome and towed the "Kathena nui" with the "Tintenfisch" to the pier in Schilksee, as Wilfried's boat had no engine.
One of my photos of the arrival became the cover page of YACHT 16/1985, and the whole story of this journey followed in the magazine, with Wilfried's photos: a series of great pictures that I really admired, because they were created as a kind of by-product of this gruelling journey, as Wilfried had to take care of the sailing above all else. In the meantime, he documented his journeys in this way because he earned his living by publishing them in magazines and books. This was an achievement, especially because at the time, photography was still analogue, which meant that he himself did not know what the films would yield until they were developed months later. In addition, storing the material in tropical conditions posed special challenges.
In August 2000, the time had come once again. Wilfried set off from Cuxhaven "alone against the wind" - the title of his highly acclaimed book on this trip, which remained on the "Spiegel" bestseller list for 32 weeks. It was not until 343 days later that he was to cast off again in Cuxhaven.
YACHT followed this trip very closely as a journalist. I travelled to England with two editors and an external skipper to be able to photograph and interview him in the English Channel as soon as possible after his return so that we could tell the whole story in the magazine. We hired a Moody in Salcombe and set sail straight away. But there was still no sign of Wilfried. We spent the night at anchor in a terrible place with an enormous amount of swell, a terrible rocking and noise from all sorts of things rattling around in the lockers. I don't think anyone got a wink of sleep that night.
The next morning, however, we learnt Wilfried's position by phone. However, it was a few hours old and we wondered where the wind and the enormous current could have taken him in the meantime. There was no such thing as AIS back then. Then we set off.
The English Channel sounds so harmless. In fact, it is a vast expanse of water, especially at its exit. In bright sunshine, we searched it with binoculars so hard our eyes hurt. Then we spotted a small dot on the shore. Could that really be it? Had our calculations and considerations been more or less correct? The dot came closer, and sure enough, it was it! Our crew rejoiced.
From ship to ship, Wilfried reported on his fantastic trip, and I had so much film material in my luggage that I could shoot like there was no tomorrow. I was still working with analogue Fujichrome 100 films at the time, and I was able to expose far more than a dozen. On 1 August 2001, just one week after Wilfried's arrival in Cuxhaven, the whole big story was published in YACHT.
When Wilfried arrived in Cuxhaven, the magazine was already in production. But of course I also documented his arrival for the next issue. He was cheered and celebrated, and I was as happy as a child with him, who had become a friend over the years.
I once asked him why he went to these extreme, sometimes unimaginable lengths. But that remains his secret. All I know is that Wilfried has done everything right in his life as a sailor. And for his 80th birthday, I wish him that this is far from over.
