Glossary Wolffs Revier: Resentment towards the new berth neighbour
YACHT
· 09.06.2024
Hanno comes stomping along the jetty with a bright red head. "I've just been to see Klaus. You won't believe it. We're getting a new neighbour. Here, on 67." "That's next door to us," says my husband, as if a T-Rex will soon be part of our neighbourhood. "Yes, luckily not next door to us. Remember that Oskar who played the guitar really badly?" My husband nods. "Or Sigrid and Steffen. They weren't laughing, they were shouting. I'm glad they've all changed harbours. I'm telling you, if the new guy crosses me, I'll talk straight."
"Why don't you let him arrive first, besides, the jetty doesn't belong to you. Who is it?" I want to know. "It's probably from Kiel. That's all I know," says Hanno. "What do you mean, that's all you know? Why don't you ask? They can't put Krethi and Plethi on the jetty." My husband again. "They don't have to ask us," I say. "That's what Birte says too," Hanno complains. "But good company is so important. Maybe the guy from Kiel plays dice for hours in the evening and smashes a warped leather mug on the cockpit table." "Or listens to scary shanties in the outside boxes," my husband adds. "Ah, there's Norbi. Come on board, Norbi. We need to talk about something." Norbi is also horrified that someone new just wants to come and listen to shanties. "Then he'll just lie there on our jetty," is the unanimous, unfavourable opinion. My husband gets some beer. "We need to make a plan so that the newcomer knows where to go." Everyone except me nods.
More from Steffi von Wolff:
The next morning, a sailing boat moors next to us. I help with the mooring. It must be the new guy. He looks nice. He thanks me nicely for taking the line and says that he's always liked this harbour. "Well then, welcome," I say kindly. My husband, Hanno, Norbi, Gert, Thorsten and Volkmar are suddenly standing next to me as if they've been plucked out of the ground. "It's quiet here from 10 pm," yaps Thorsten. "That's for sure." "And there's no dice throwing on deck either." My husband. "There are clear rules here," explains Gert. "We don't want to lie with everyone. So you're from Kiel?" He asks like an inquisitor.
The nice man is slightly annoyed. "No, from Ærøskøbing. I just wanted to moor here after a nice day's sailing." "I see," says my husband. "Then you're not the new guy." "No, fortunately not. This poor wretch should be warned. And you know what, I don't even want to moor here, I'll tie up at another jetty." He lets me give him the line back and disappears a short time later.
"Supposedly he also has a cat, but it was always below deck"
Meanwhile, everything revolves around the new guy. We even went to see Klaus, the harbour master, to find out more about this "dubious character", but he doesn't really know anything either, but asks us to tell him to pick up his mooring sticker and an electricity meter from the harbour office when he arrives. "I'm telling you, he'll switch off the electricity meter before he cooks," Norbi surmises. "We'll have to keep an eye on that." "You take it off too," I've had enough. I get a sore look. "But nobody knows that." I see. Birte comes to me at some point. "They're going crazy again," she says resignedly. "Hanno told me that if the new guy fries liver, he'll report him."
Later, we join the men's group, who are still or already saying "if" again. Now it's no longer about fried liver, but a kidney skewer. "Offal has no place on our jetty," explains Gert. "You do realise that some bratwurst also contains offal," I reply. "That's something completely different. Bratwurst is bratwurst." Bratwurst is therefore free from any criticism. "And what if the new guy likes bratwurst?" I ask teasingly. "Not on your life. He's such an oddball. I spoke to my cousin on the phone yesterday, he's in Schilksee. Until last year, they had a hermit there, a shrew, who had a parrot and didn't come back this year. They said he was looking for another berth." "He certainly doesn't wash himself," says my husband venomously. "And I tell you, if that parrot poops all over my 'old lady', I can't guarantee anything."
Everyone nods. "Apparently he also has a cat, but it was always below deck." "How sweet," says Gert's wife Elsa. "That would be nice, a cat." Gert stares at her. "I'll give you a bridge cat too, it's sure to have lice and carry the plague." "They're rats," I correct, slightly exasperated. "Can you stop now, please. It's getting scary."
"If that cat ever gets on my boat and scratches it, it was a cat." Thorsten clutches his heart. "I won't be doing this much longer." "Ask me, my pump keeps going," my husband complains.
"Maybe we should all carry pepper spray with us from now on!"
Later, we meet up at the barbecue area. "I'm telling you, if it's not the joker from Kiel, the new guy is definitely some arrogant monkey with new sailing gear who knows everything better," is Thorsten's opinion. "He doesn't help with mooring either. He says: after me comes the deluge," says Gert, and everyone nods as they devour their sausages. Birte, I and the other ladies in the group try a few times to bring some calm to the group, but our men are far from it. "We'll switch the sign to red later," my husband suggests. "Let him ask if he can lie there first."
The next morning, my husband helps Hanno and pulls him up the mast because he has to repair something on the clicker. "The new guy must be such a wimp and afraid of heights," my husband calls up and dodges a falling screwdriver. "Watch out! Are you trying to kill me?"
"Ha!" comes from upstairs. "You know what just occurred to me: what if the new guy is really bad, someone who will stop at nothing. Someone who has a past that nobody can know about!" "What makes you think that?" Birte calls upstairs. "You never know what's going on behind someone's forehead. Just think of Hannibal Lecter."
"That's right," I say. "He ate liver too."
"Do you think the new guy is a serial killer?" my husband now screeches in the direction of the mast. "Anything is possible! Anyone who likes offal is suspect to me! Maybe we should all carry pepper spray with us from now on! Or knives! It's obviously no longer safe on this jetty!" The guests all stand on deck and listen in disbelief and horror. The murmuring that begins is surely evidence that they are considering changing harbours. I would too.
"You read so much" Think of Fritz Honka or Fritz Haarmann! They looked harmless too, and then? Honka cut up women! And Haarmann turned people into tinned sausage! That could happen to us here too!"
"Might not be the worst thing!" shouts Jörg, who has just joined us and is divorced. "A serial killer won't come to the jetty!" my husband shouts upstairs. "Just thinking about all the blood on the teak deck makes me feel sick." Oh. Of course. The deck is the most important thing. "Don't look at me like that," I say, annoyed. "The new guy doesn't have to kill on our boat." My husband lets Hanno down again. "Come on, I'm going to the town to buy some pepper spray." They set off together. "Where is this going?" asks Birte. "The poor new man. They've never behaved this badly before." "That's the age. My husband also likes watching 'XY unsolved' now," I say. "Hanno too," says Birte. "Come on, let's have a crémant."
Shortly after the men return from the city, a boat arrives and sets course for our jetty
"Ah!" Hanno and my husband stop, the others join us. A young woman with blonde curls is standing at the bow, holding the fore line in her hand and beaming at us. Another woman at the tiller, also with blonde curls, is also beaming. "Hello," says woman number one. "This is number 67, you've come to the right place. We're the new ones!" The men stand there with their pepper spray and stare at the two pleasant-looking women. "Are you going to take the lead?" one of them asks me. "I'm Linda."
"And I'm..." I start, but Thorsten pushes me aside. "Of course I'll help you. I'm Thorsten." Ah. "We were so looking forward to the Danish South Sea," explains Linda, beaming even more. "We're from Kiel, which is fine, but it's much nicer here."
"Yes, that's right, and we're a really nice community here!" Hanno hurries to say and offers her his hand. With the other, he puts the pepper spray in his trouser pocket. "Oh really?" Now the other woman comes forward. "I'm Marie. We've brought home-baked bread for our debut. It's lovely here. But we've heard a lot about you, especially about this footbridge," says Marie. "Oh." The men are flattered. "Yes, our group is exceptional. And very nice," says my husband. "So I'm sure you've only heard good things about us." The two women look at him and don't answer. The silence is very loud.
