Johannes Erdmann
· 07.05.2023
"Paaaaaaaaaaapaaaaaaaaaa!" The scream not only goes through our marrow and bones, but also through all the bulkheads. Our children are awake. Far too early, as always. Now they make us aware that they want to be entertained. All day long, until the sun goes down again. While I used to have to answer the question "Daddy, will you play with me?" so often on land: "Daddy has to work, unfortunately", and then look into sad eyes, there are no such answers now. After all, we are "on parental leave" for six months on board our sailing boat in the Mediterranean. And that is sometimes more exhausting than any full-time job.
Our days always start early here in Greece. At first light, the children are standing at the companionway, wanting to go on deck and experience something. "Dad, get up!" Theo demands, pushing me out of my bunk. At two and a half years old, he is the real captain on board and sets the day's destinations every morning. "Theo, where should we go today?" we ask him. The answer is always the same: "Playground ride, slide!" We have now got to know almost all the playgrounds in western Greece, from the Saronic Gulf south of Athens, where our journey began, all the way down the Peloponnese and up the other side to the Adriatic.
The satisfaction of our children is important, as it is through them that we experience this privilege: to leave our jobs for six months and go sailing. That's why they should be the centre of attention during this time. "However, the term 'parental leave' is a little misleading," I keep explaining to other sailors we meet along the way, "because it should actually be called 'child time'. The parents have no time for themselves at all."
Many older skippers can't relate to the term anyway. "What, you go on a sailing holiday and have the state pay for it? That never used to happen here!" It sounds almost reproachful. In fact, we take advantage of a provision that the legislator has created for young families: to be there for the children for a limited time without any disadvantages in terms of career or earnings, to spend time together as a family and to help the little ones discover the world. In our case, this means getting on a boat with Theo and Piet and sailing off. Nowhere does it say that you have to stay at home during parental leave. For this reason, a trend has long since developed among young families: using parental leave to go travelling and experience adventures with their children.
When my wife Cati and I sailed up the Elbe in 2019 after five years on the world's oceans, it was clear to us that the adventurous part of our lives had come to an end. After getting off comes getting on. Everyday life, a nine-to-five job. Children, school, more and more restrictions.
This realisation was by no means associated with melancholy, but with joy in my heart. Everything has its time. A job that is demanding. Starting a small family. Everything can be an adventure. But the wanderlust seemed to be satisfied.
But then came corona. The world was sidelined for a long time. For the first time, we were quite happy not to have a ship that was just sitting around somewhere, costing money and not being used. Sailing was only possible under restrictions. At the same time, our second son Piet was on his way and was due to be born in the summer. Life seemed to be mapped out.
Then an opportunity suddenly arose: a friend offered to take over his sailing boat in Greece. An area that we were not yet familiar with.
We had a few pieces of the puzzle in front of us. And suddenly they all fitted together: "What do you say we go sailing for a few months after Piet's birth?" I asked Cati one evening. She, who had already announced when we arrived at the Kugelbake that this couldn't be our sailing retirement, had become very familiar and happy with her new role after the birth of our children. She hesitated. "How do you envisage it?" she replied, "can we afford it?" We had just bought a house, dropped anchor far ashore and were in the middle of a major renovation. "And what about your job?" she elaborated on her concerns, "you only have 30 days' holiday and you can't quit."
In the meantime, I had read up on the subject of "parental leave" and now knew that you can take a break from your job after the birth of a child and receive a certain percentage of your salary in the form of parental allowance during this time. Even both parents at the same time for six months each. The child's birthday also determines the time period.
"If we want to be travelling in summer, we would have to set off at the beginning of March and come back in August," I concluded. The idea quickly became a plan. A few weeks later, the "application for parental leave" was sent off, which strictly speaking is not an application at all, but a notification. Because it cannot be rejected. The course was set.
And now we're sailing from playground to playground. Our comfort distance in between has increased more and more over the past few weeks. First it was 15 nautical miles, then 20, soon 25, now even 30 miles. We are amazed at how well the children cope with the rocking. Fortunately, seasickness is not an issue at all. But the boys' occupation during the stages is.
A toddler has roughly the attention span of a squirrel. It constantly wants to be kept amused with new, interesting things. Otherwise boredom sets in. Toy cars and books are very popular, although it sometimes drives Theo to the brink of despair when he has lined up his cars in a long traffic jam in the cockpit on the teak and then lets the sea roll them around.
It usually only gets tricky when we have to manoeuvre. When we are distracted for a moment while anchoring, we don't notice how Theo finds a packet of biscuits, grinds them up completely and spreads them on the teak to drive his cars through. "Look, Dad, I've built a beach!" From then on, he is involved in anchoring. "Mum, I want to press the button!" he demands from time to time. He's even allowed to do that, so there's no danger of him curiously reaching for the chain with his fingers.
However, sometimes things have to happen quickly, for example when we enter a busy harbour and have to squeeze the boat backwards into a gap in the harbour wall. Then we sometimes feel like raven parents because we park the children in front of the tablet for ten minutes and switch on a children's programme. But a survey on Instagram proves it: Somehow all parents do this nowadays.
As soon as the boat is moored at the quay wall, the gangway can't be deployed fast enough. "Playground, playground!", echoes through the boat. However, they are not so easy to find in Greece because they are rarely listed on Google Maps. But the website noforeignland.com - a tip for sailing families - makes it possible to plan routes according to playgrounds.
However, we often have to wait a little longer to go ashore until the sun is lower in the sky. "Why do the Greeks build playgrounds without any shade at all?" we wondered at first and only realised after a while that we were the only family out and about in the sweltering midday sun. In Greek families, life rages in the evening, usually in the spotlight.
Then, when the cool evening air floats over the villages, the children liven up the playgrounds until midnight. It takes a while for us to familiarise ourselves with this Mediterranean way of life. By sunset, however, our children are tucked up in bed so that we can finally start our "parental leave" and have some time to ourselves. But we don't usually last long, the days with the children in the sun are exhausting.
Speaking of which: sun protection is immensely important for small children, their sensitive skin needs to be really well protected. Fortunately, our boat was already fitted with a large bimini and additional awnings when we bought it, so we can shade the entire deck if necessary.
In the run-up to the trip, we naturally had some concerns about the safety of our boys. In practice, everything turned out to be half as bad. No major modifications to the ship were necessary. To prevent the children from falling out of the forward berth in their sleep, I sewed a leeward sail before the start of the trip, which we can use to completely close off the forward triangle and which little Piet can't climb out of.
During the trial trip at the age of two months, he sat in his Maxi-Cosi in the cockpit. Now, at eight months old, he is already starting to take his first steps on the wobbly planks. We imagine that it has a positive effect on his sense of balance because he is constantly learning to compensate for the movement of the waves. He is too big for the Maxi-Cosi, but a simple and cheap Ikea highchair for 16 euros, which can be found in every restaurant, helps enormously to limit his radius of action. He also sits comfortably in it and has a satisfied view of the cockpit from above.
At the beginning of the trip, we peg the older Theo to the steering column with a lifebelt. His radius is sufficient for him to reach the winches, but not the railing. After a few weeks, he has already recognised the danger of the blue water around the boat and is so confident on deck that we only let him walk around the cockpit in a lifejacket, but without a leash. However, he is only allowed on the foredeck when accompanied, although the entire sea fence is secured with a net.
The net has a second advantage: it is close-meshed enough to hold back many a toy that ends up on the side deck. The rubbish situation with two nappy-covered children also proves to be relatively relaxed. There are always supplies at Lidl, and the Greeks have freely accessible rubbish collection containers at all harbours, where we get rid of our waste bags before they stink.
Our route takes us from Greece up into the Adriatic, to Croatia and Italy. Alternatively, a course via Italy, Sardinia and Corsica to France was on the cards, which would have had the advantage that the boat would have been close to the canals at the end of the journey, via which it could reach Germany. "You know what," I suggest one day, "let's keep strolling through the sheltered bays and enjoy the time. It doesn't matter that we're heading for a dead end up there in the Adriatic." A stress-free time, without long stages, is the priority. The children thank us for it. This gives us enough time to take two days in the harbour if the little ones particularly like it somewhere.
Nevertheless, it is important to have a plan and a fixed goal. This gives structure to each day. Especially at the beginning, we are a bit overwhelmed with all the free time and don't really know what to do. We travel to cultural sights and visit an ancient amphitheatre, for example. More out of our own interest than any ambition to present our children with a piece of history. Much more important for them are beautiful bathing bays, walks and the occasional tourist train.
Childhood is a carefree time. Without worries or obligations. Parental leave gives us the opportunity to experience it just as carefree together with them. With no money worries and no busy schedules, mum and dad can concentrate fully on their offspring. The greatest happiness for our two boys is simply being with their parents.
Spending parental leave with the children on a boat could therefore also be interpreted as "selfish". Taking advantage of the law, even exploiting the children to pursue your own interests and go sailing instead of being on land. So an experience only for the parents? After all, the children are at a time in their lives when very few people have memories.
Theo and Piet will later only know all the beautiful areas we are in from the pictures in the photo album. The exciting dolphins accompanying our boat, the large turtles, the cool water, the salty lips. The warm sun on their skin, the delicious ice cream. They will forget all that.
But do they really get nothing out of it? Even during parental leave on land, parents never have as much time as they do on board. Nowhere is community experienced as intensely as on a small sailing boat. There are hardly any distractions, no familiar surroundings, no obligations. Sailing slows things down and reduces life to the essentials. And not to be underestimated: Sailing makes parents happy.
Even if in ten years' time our boys will no longer have a vivid memory of what it was like to be together with their parents for so long, I am convinced that the emotions they experienced during that time, the intimate connection of the shared experience, will stay with them for the rest of their lives.
Such a journey also fuels the little ones' curiosity to discover the world. Instead of zapping through children's YouTube, they arrive at a new place, a new playground, every day. They always have to face new playmates and a language they don't speak. And last but not least, they experience the natural elements anew every day: the wind, the weather and the sea.
Every employee is legally entitled to take up to 36 months off work, divided into up to three periods. In order to utilise the full 36 months, twelve months must be taken in the first three years of life and the remaining time up to the eighth birthday. The employer's consent is not required, but parental leave must be registered at least seven weeks before it begins. Parental allowance can be taken within the first 14 months of a child's life, for a minimum of two months and a maximum of twelve months in total. The amount is calculated on the basis of the salary for the twelve months prior to the birth of the child. Depending on your income, the basic parental allowance is between 300 and 1,800 euros per month.
The safety of children must be guaranteed at all times. For example, a net should be fastened around the railing and the child should wear a lifejacket as soon as it moves around on deck or on the gangways. Below deck, children need their own area to play and sleep. For example, the foredeck secured with a leeward sail. When sailing, the little ones should be outside as much as possible to avoid seasickness and uncomfortable feelings in the first place. Depending on their age, a secure seat in the cockpit is helpful, such as a securely lashed baby seat or a child car seat. Always have snacks ready, even if the deck is a sea of crumbs afterwards. But most importantly: the child's well-being is more important than the next destination.