Small waves of the green-blue Baltic Sea foam around the white beach of Binz on Rügen. Holidaymakers stretch their legs and hold their faces up to the spring sun while enjoying a coffee on the promenade; children play in the sand. A day in April, perfect for looking forward to summer and further holiday plans. For the future. At the same time, however, someone is embarking on their last journey right here today.
The excursion boat "Binz" is waiting at the end of the long pier. In the saloon, an urn with a wreath of flowers in cheerful colours stands on a pedestal, surrounded by a thick rope and a black mourning bow, "One last ahoy". The decorations are deliberately kept simple, but could be arranged according to the wishes of the bereaved, as could a possible supporting programme of music and speeches, Captain Lang and his crew report as they make final preparations to welcome the mourners: around 15 people, friends, neighbours and Heidi, the mother of Dirk from Berlin, who died a good four months earlier in the cold and wet December. "We deliberately moved the funeral to spring. We wanted nice weather and not this wintery dreariness or even a storm," says a friend of Dirk.
The wish came true, under a bright blue sky with a moderate, albeit cold, breeze. In return, everyone had to live with the fact that the final farewell was delayed and months passed in a kind of suspended state of mourning. Many relatives therefore decide in favour of a prompt burial. Burials at sea take place in both summer and winter. "It happens very rarely," reports Captain Lang, "but sometimes we have to postpone a funeral due to the weather." According to Lang, this can be stressful for the relatives and involve additional organisational work - especially if the relatives are travelling from further afield.
"We have cast off the lines today for Dirk's last voyage," the captain greets the mourners, who have paused in front of the urn and then taken their seats in the saloon. The man in uniform briefly explains the rest of the process: the journey is about two and a half miles eastwards to the burial site in Prorer Wiek. A few minutes before the urn is handed over to the sea, he says. Until then, the captain and crew withdrew.
The ship's engines hum, the water rushes against the ship's side. The guests chat quietly, crying here and there, but also laughing at the memory of Dirk. The sun and the fresh wind lure some of them onto the foredeck. Their gaze wanders along the high green and white coastline on both sides of the bay and across the sea ahead, which is covered in small whitecaps. A beautiful sight and yet also the place of our last farewell.
"Life, as sailors say, is a great journey," says the captain, "and the last place is home harbour." We have reached it, the engines stop. The guests go upstairs and line up outside on the captain's dock and the aft deck. Only a few close relatives follow the captain, who slowly carries the urn to the entrance of the ship. The heavy door is open, a grille is attached to the outside of the gangway, over which he now slowly lowers the urn with the wreath of flowers before ringing the ship's bell in four double strokes after a minute's silence: eight glasses at the end of a watch, which today symbolise the transition from life to death. Later, the captain will make an entry in the logbook with the position where the urn was handed over to the sea.
The ship makes three laps of honour around the wreath of flowers. The urn can be recognised underneath in the backlight of the sun before it slowly sinks to the bottom of the sea. It is made of organic material such as cellulose or salt and will disintegrate after three days at the latest.
In the circle travelled by the ship, what sailors call a "duck pond" appears on the surface of the water: beyond the circular course line is a somewhat choppy sea, within it an almost smooth one, on which the wind creates only a slight ripple. For a long time, the mourners can look at the dancing wreath that marks the last place for a fleeting moment, throw petals into the sea and remember the deceased. The ship's klaxon emits a long farewell sound and then the "Binz" heads for the pier again.
The loudspeakers play "Above the clouds, freedom must be boundless". It is the song that Dirk, a lifelong traveller, had wished for his farewell. On board, people ponder what comes next. Perhaps this song wish was linked to an idea: whoever becomes water can also ascend, move with the clouds to any place in the world? Rain down and move on with waves and currents? It is one of many comforting ideas that have always been associated with the sea as a final resting place. The sea, from which all life once emerged, can also be a mirror of an infinite life beyond religious attitudes: the cycle of becoming and passing away, the return of the tides, which act like a constant embrace.
Death is the end of all decisions. Ideally, these should be made in advance, no matter how much the thought of it is repressed. A burial at sea is always preceded by cremation, which is practised far more frequently today than the burial that used to be customary; according to the Quality Association for Cremation, around 80 per cent of the deceased in Germany are cremated.
The Federal Association of German Funeral Directors currently estimates the number of funerals in the North and Baltic Seas at up to 20,000 per year. "And demand is increasing!" reports Jule Harten, who is in charge of burials at sea at the Weiße Flotte in Stralsund. "In the last four years, the number has almost tripled, so we now organise an average of one burial at sea every day." The ships of the White Fleet, such as the "Binz" of the Adler shipping company, on which we are sailing, are excursion ships by nature, and the funerals are special trips. Other shipping companies have a long tradition or, due to the great demand, exclusively organise burials at sea on the coasts of the North and Baltic Seas and, if desired, on the world's oceans.
In the past, there were no refrigeration facilities on ships, so the deceased had to be buried at sea, always with full maritime honours. In most cases, it was the bodies of seafarers that were handed over to the sea. Today, burial at sea is open to everyone. Its initiator in its current form is Captain Horst Hahn, now over 90 years old. Originally a seafarer and later an undertaker in Hamburg, he combined his professional expertise in the 1970s and made burial at sea accessible to all those who loved or were connected to the sea. Nevertheless, as commonplace and established as it is, burial at sea is still not a matter of course, especially in legal terms.
In Germany, burial is the responsibility of the federal states, and the regulations vary accordingly. In principle, there is a cemetery obligation in Germany; burial at sea requires an official exemption licence. Most federal states now consider burial at sea to be a permissible exception by default, meaning that no special authorisation is required. However, Baden-Württemberg, Saxony, Saxony-Anhalt and Thuringia explicitly provide for the application of an exemption licence.
This is usually obtained from the funeral parlour. There are also limits to the period within which an urn must be buried. It varies between one and six months depending on the federal state. It is therefore not always possible to choose a preferred date. In the event that a funeral is to take place without relatives for time or other reasons, the shipping companies also offer so-called silent burials: The captain and crew sail out alone and hand the urn over to the sea at the designated position.
In many places, a declaration of intent from the deceased regarding burial at sea is also required. If this is in writing, it makes the process considerably easier and avoids potential complications. Otherwise, close relatives must prove that burial at sea was explicitly desired or would at least have been in accordance with the deceased's presumed wishes.
The places where urns are buried in the territorial sea are also determined by the neighbouring federal states, which also issue the licences for burials at the specified locations to the shipping companies. These are by no means "sea cemeteries where neither fishing nor recreational boating is permitted", as some funeral parlour websites claim.
Narrow legal regulations, fixed locations and maritime tradition restrict what may be thought of as the last great freedom. They are not always congruent with the wishes of the deceased. "I once held an urn here at the door to hand it over to the sea in accordance with the ritual," recounts Captain Lang, standing at the exit of the "Binz", "when the husband of the deceased took it out of my hand and threw it into the water in a high arc!" It was his wife's wish that the ship could now return to the harbour without further ado.
Such actions based on individual wishes are still within the bounds of what is permitted by law. It becomes trickier when a last will or the ideas of relatives and friends about the final disposition of the ashes do not comply with the legal regulations.
You don't have to look very far to find stories that were preceded by the use of a legal loophole. Like the one about the father, who was a passionate sailor during his lifetime and whose ashes were taken to the Isles of Scilly by his son in his own boat after his cremation in the Netherlands and scattered in the sea there. Or the story of the motorboating member of a motorbike gang whose friends with a penchant for Vikingism gave him a .45 Magnum bullet and an axe when they delivered his urn to the Baltic Sea at night in torch-lit boats, but actually to Valhalla. Or those from the water sports club, who scattered the ashes of a comrade into the Elbe during a squadron trip.
This individualism, which is practised from time to time, is made possible by legal regulations in neighbouring countries, which allow ashes to be kept at home, scattered in nature or even buried in rivers. For example, the deceased can be cremated in Switzerland or the Netherlands and the ashes returned to Germany. Dutch crematoria, for example, advertise straightforwardly that the urn can be handed over to the bereaved after a statutory retention period of four weeks. Strictly speaking, a re-import to Germany is then subject to German law again from the border and thus to the cemetery obligation. A violation of this can be punished as an administrative offence - if it becomes known.
The costs of the various forms of burial, such as burial in the ground or cremation, cemetery or burial forest, can vary considerably - often a not insignificant issue for the bereaved. No grave site needs to be purchased for a burial at sea and there are no costs for subsequent maintenance. It is therefore one of the more cost-effective forms of burial. Nevertheless, many people find it difficult to decide in favour of the sea as a final resting place because the bereaved need a fixed location, a grave, a tree that they can visit and where they can mourn. But this is also possible after a burial at sea.
There are memorials on land in many places: a bench aligned with the burial position. Name plaques. Flower vases. Relatives also receive a certificate in which the position of the burial is noted. Recreational boaters can head for them at any time on their own keel.
Many shipping companies also regularly offer memorial cruises in spring or on Remembrance Sunday. "Depending on the ship, we can take 80 to 200 people with us. Relatives like to combine this with a family holiday here on the coast," reports Jule Harten from the Weiße Flotte. "At the burial site, the surface of the water can then become a veritable sea of flowers." The burial sites are often located on ferry or excursion routes. Captain Lang occasionally observes that people come on board the "Binz" for an excursion with flowers in their hands. He then knows that they are bereaved people who would like to visit the burial site again. "I then stop briefly at the appropriate position so that they can throw the flowers and have a few minutes to remember," he says after mooring.
Dirk's friends and family leave the ship via the gangway and slowly walk back ashore via the pier. "That was a well-rounded end. Somehow really nice," says one of the friends, adding somewhat sheepishly: "If you can say that in this context." Everyone nods, it's fair to say. Once they reach the promenade, a friend of Dirk's mum points back across the bridge out to sea: "Look, Heidi, now you just have to stand here to be very close to Dirk."
The planning is usually carried out by a funeral home, which first organises the cremation. If desired, a funeral service or church service can be organised beforehand - this gives relatives the opportunity to say goodbye, even if they are unable to attend the subsequent burial at sea. The urn is kept at the funeral parlour until the burial and later transferred to the coast. The actual burial at sea follows a simple maritime custom: on board, the captain says a few words of farewell before handing the urn over to the sea. This is followed by a silent minute's silence, after which eight bells are traditionally rung. Finally, the ship makes a lap of honour around the burial position.
The harbour for the burial can be specified as a last will or determined by the next of kin. A preferred harbour on the North Sea or Baltic Sea is usually chosen, to which there is a personal connection. Funeral directors often co-operate with regular shipping companies. When choosing a ship, both emotional and practical considerations play a role: the ships differ in terms of the number of guests (15 to 200 people are possible), accessibility and the space on the ship from which the urn is buried. The easy accessibility of the burial site is also often an important aspect for relatives.
Silent burials at sea, where the urn is buried without relatives, cost from around 1,600 euros, accompanied farewells with relatives on board from around 2,400 euros. Additional wishes such as a funeral orator, flowers or catering are charged separately.