In the "Sailors confess" series, we confess our stupidest sailing mistakes. But we are also keen to hear your confessions. Send us your text, if possible with pictures, to mail@yacht.dekeyword "sailor's confession". If desired, publication will be anonymised.
I grew up on the Wadden Sea when I was a little boy. My most memorable childhood memories are the ones that still draw me back to the area today. The light moments and the other, instructive moments in the beautiful natural surroundings - or under their thumb, depending on where you supposedly want to set bow and sails - draw me back. Searching for a different order: from ebb and flow, wind and waves.
The first trip as a skipper
After sailing dinghies on inland waterways, holiday trips with my parents and in an Optimist in the Wadden Sea, the time had finally come: my first trip to the mudflats. I was excited, humble; into the mudflats! I had a good school friend with me, the boat, an old Gregal 23, familiar, capsize-proof and with a draught of 1.35 metres. An outboard motor for the prickenweg and exactly one chart, the right one of course, because we know our way around. Hah. Weather forecast? It's supposed to be windy, but from the right direction, not a big problem in the sheltered mudflats. The way there? Quick thanks to the tide on the Jade, we're on top! Let's go!
The first mistake
In our excited light-heartedness, I made the first crucial mistake in the Wadden Sea: I missed "our tide" and we sailed off too late! Unforgivable. Let's see how far we get. The forecast wind from the north was blowing from the right direction in the mudflats, but we struggled to get there down the Jade: Wind against tide, standing waves, windy. All alone in the wave valley, no shore to be seen, just the reefed sails and wave crests all around.
My co-sailor always says at this point that I also had to vomit at this exact moment, which I would have preferred to have left out, but I didn't let Thomas get away with it. It got better over time, the sea calmed down and there was only the wind on our noses. We were flat, the journey was still long, then the tide capsized! Now it was no longer just the wind against us. So we did what was easy for us at that moment: we turned round. With the tide, we were back in the harbour after a much too short time of great sailing - exhausted, but proud of the day. You have to be able to turn round! The excitement had subsided and the last few miles back to the starting harbour had given us courage. Next day, another attempt with the right timing.
The first success
It was still windy, and after four to five hours we needed a break. We sought shelter in Hooksiel's outer harbour. The wind seemed to pick up even more, at least that's how it looked down by the sheet piling! However, when we climbed up the ladder, what a shock: great weather! Quickly off again, a few strokes over into the mudflats, we can still manage that! Great sailing! Don't cut it short, even with a draught of 1.35 you don't have much room to manoeuvre... Aaaah, but what's that in the Prickenweg? Current against! Outgoing? Running aground? Everything was mixed up inside me, round the outside? Avoid the spouses! That was the only rule of the game and certainly not in windy conditions. So in through. With Thomas standing on the slipping outboard, we managed the prickenweg against the tide across the Neue Brack through the Blaue Balje to W'ooge Ost. My gateway to the mudflats, anchoring at the east jetty, a clear night at the buoy line, as it should be.
The second error
With the morning high tide, we wanted to continue into the harbour of Wangerooge, along the Prickenweg, just no stress. Everything was prepared, we studied the nautical chart, raised the sails like a sailor, anchored and set off. We made exactly 200 metres. Our sails did not provide enough propulsion for the following tidal current, the switched-off AB hung uselessly on the transom, and we crossed beyond the prick path. Another frantic check on the nautical chart revealed: no problem at all. Two metres deep, we can easily cut across the Prickenweg here, how else are we supposed to make it to W'ooge? Exactly, not at all. Thomas shouted "Watch out for the seagulls!" and we were already sitting on Shiet between Prickenweg and W'ooge. What time was it exactly?
The realisation
I was so embarrassed: in the heat of the moment, I had no doubts about my idea that it was two metres deep next to the Prickenweg. That's what it says! Not at all, I simply looked away from the line under the depth indication, i.e. two metres ABOVE sea level! We now had plenty of time to think about who was actually in charge here in the mudflats. And how best to play along. And even the opportunity to get ashore dry-footed, conveniently directly from on board! Which was urgently needed, the heeling was getting uncomfortable. We dropped our anchor to pull us in the right direction later and had our second breakfast on the beach. Also nice, we wanted an island day.
We made it back to the mainland with a wonderful rough ride in a stern wind and running water. We're still sailing next to Pricken on the Shiet, but with a dinghy, so we can get out and push if necessary...
