Family cruise: From Berlin to Copenhagen and back
YACHT
· 19.05.2026
Text and photos by YACHT reader Marcus Brandt
Our feet dangle over the edge of the quay wall, warmed by the sun. Behind us, tourists stroll past the colourful row of houses on Nyhavn. I squint up at the blue sky and watch the screeching seagulls as the aroma of the steaming coffee in our hands fills my nose. It tastes even better than I had hoped - which is probably because over the past ten days I have increasingly doubted that we would be able to enjoy this moment.
The idea, the challenge and the promise
It all began a few months ago on a winter evening with the idea of sailing with the children from Berlin to Copenhagen and back again. We have been sailing the Havel around Wannsee in our Hallberg-Rassy 310 "Hartmutson vom Wannsee" for five years now. This summer, however, we want to sail to the Baltic Sea and all the way to Denmark. The challenge: we only have 16 days for our little family adventure. My promise to Christin: "If we make it despite the short time, I'll treat you to a really good coffee in Copenhagen."
Cast off in Berlin
On a sunny afternoon in August, we cast off from our home harbour, the Stößensee sailing club. We make rapid progress for the first few kilometres. We pass the first lock in Spandau and sail along the Havel-Oder waterway until we reach our destination for the day, the Lehnitz lock, in the evening. It roughly marks the transition from the Havel to the artificial Oder-Havel Canal. From here, the route is dead straight for long stretches. Ideal for making kilometres. And that is important in the days that follow: getting towards the Oder quickly. That's why the next morning starts early at six o'clock. While the children are still asleep, we enjoy the monotonous, almost meditative journey along the canal framed by trees.
Between two countries
In temperatures of over 30 degrees, we make several swimming stops along the way before entering the trough of the Niederfinow boat lift. There is something magical about a trip on Europe's most modern boat lift: the historic steel structure from 1934 towers into the sky on our right, and as we descend 36 metres, we can even disembark and enjoy the view of the Oder Valley in front of us. From here, the view changes noticeably. The landscape widens, as does the river. Dykes and floodplains replace the dense forests on the banks. You have to look closely to realise that we are travelling along a national border. Every now and then a sign in German on the left, a Polish one on the right.
Stopover in Szczecin
We finally reach Gartz an der Oder in the late afternoon. Characterised by brick Gothic architecture and its border location with Poland, the small, at first glance unassuming town attracts us with its historic old town and an old city wall. The next day, we reach the Academic Sailing Club in Szczecin around midday - a popular port of call for cruising sailors from Berlin who want to set their mast on the way to the Baltic Sea. At peak times, there is a traffic jam here. But we're lucky and are already half an hour late without having to book in advance. In the afternoon, thousands of visitors join us on the harbour promenade. We are surrounded by a babble of voices in Polish and German, music can be heard on every corner and a sea of masts in front of us. Luckily for us, Sail Szczecin, one of Poland's biggest maritime festivals, is taking place right now. An impressive spectacle, but now that our mast is up, we can hardly wait to leave the hustle and bustle behind us tomorrow.
Sailing on the Szczecin Lagoon
We cross Lake Dabie the next morning in a light wind. Shortly before its mouth, the Oder widens into an open lake. We set sail for the first time. When we finally reach the Szczecin Lagoon around midday, the conditions are perfect: we have a marvellous trip under mainsail and code zero in nine to eleven knots of wind and pure sunshine. Our mood is in top form. In the early evening, we arrive in Mönkebude harbour, which is fortunately not very crowded. We take a berth right at the front and take the children to the beach right next to the jetties - perfect for families.
No wind in sight
On the sixth day of our journey, we decide to take a day ashore despite the tight time window due to the light wind. We would have liked to stay longer, but our goal of reaching the Danish capital is looking increasingly unlikely. Even for Thursday, when we had planned to leave Barhöft or Kloster, only two to three knots of wind are forecast and we don't want to chug across the Baltic Sea under motor, we want to sail! Secretly, I'm already saying goodbye to the idea and making friends with the thought that it might be more of a round-Rügen tour after all. But one thing at a time.
Our next destination is Peenemünde. Immediately after leaving the harbour, I set the mainsail and code zero again. We make good time in smooth seas. The imposing Karnin lift bridge quickly appears on the horizon. With great wind conditions, we speed on towards the Peenebrücke bridge to Wolgast, where we take a short break in an ice cream parlour just a few metres from the harbour. A short time later, the bascule bridge opens and after a spontaneous race with the other waiting boats, we reach Peenemünde as the undisputed winners of the regatta. We visit the Soviet submarine museum and stop off in the evening at "Zum dünnen Hering", a highly recommended and cosy restaurant ship.
Wind at last! - the Baltic Sea is calling
While we wait for our fresh fish, I check the weather forecast for what feels like the hundredth time. Because whether we make it to Denmark or not depends on the wind conditions. With little hope of change, I open the app. Lo and behold, the forecast for Thursday is suddenly for wind forces of four to five Beaufort from the north-west, later shifting slightly to the west. Full of fresh hope, we set off in the direction of Barhöft. The wind is coming from the east and should pick up to five Beaufort from eight o'clock. We head out through the fairway onto the Greifswalder Bodden and sail with a beam reach and light rain. The wave from astern has already reached a considerable height. Christin is at the tiller and sets a new speed record: our log shows 10.2 knots in the surf - the crew cheers. This is what we had imagined! Once we arrive in Barhöft, we enjoy the remaining hours of sunshine on the beautiful beach, and when the fisherman arrives in the evening, we buy a mackerel and two flounders straight from the cutter - a real Baltic Sea holiday feeling.
Sweden course - and uncanny encounters
The next morning, we cast off at dawn and set course for the south-western tip of Sweden. We have 65 nautical miles ahead of us to Falsterbo. The weather forecast is now ideal: three to four Beaufort from the north-west, turning further west in the afternoon - in bright sunshine. The children are still asleep when the sails go up and the sun slowly rises over Hiddensee. We sail through the traffic separation scheme at around seven knots. Suddenly, two Eurofighters appear above us - a strange feeling in the middle of the Baltic Sea. There are only a few ships in sight, but one about three nautical miles ahead seems suspicious to me. I pick up my binoculars - and sure enough: the Russian flag on the funnel and the Cyrillic lettering on the bow identify it as one of the research and spy ships that have been the subject of media reports for some time.
The spirits I called...
After a few hours, the wind turns to the west as forecast and we can set course directly for Falsterbo. Unfortunately, some of the crew get seasick shortly afterwards and we have our hands full. We try to keep them happy with the anticipation of the promised visit to Tivoli Park in Copenhagen. When we finally reach the entrance to the Falsterbo Canal, which shortens the route to Copenhagen, we are relieved. Behind the bascule bridge at the end of the canal lies the Höllviken marina. While we explore the area and recover from the crossing, the wind picks up considerably. We can hear it howling in the shrouds during the night, and when we wake up the next morning, we have a strong wind.
So we decide to travel from the bus stop at the marina to Malmö. We stroll through the historic Lilla Torg market square and marvel at the Turning Torso skyscraper spiralling into the sky. In the afternoon we return to the boat. We really like the harbour and the beaches around Skanör. But as beautiful as it is here - with 250 nautical miles already in our wake, our destination seems close enough to touch. However, we still have to cross the Öresund, and the weather forecast predicts five Beaufort winds for tomorrow, increasing from 2 p.m. onwards, and coming from the north-west. It's not going to be an easy ride. But our ambition is awakened and we at least want to try.
Land in sight: Velkommen til København!
On the way, we have to use the jib several times to support us. The wind is blowing strongly at between 23 and 30 knots. It's only thanks to the engine that we make headway against the wind towards the Öresund Bridge at a speed of just two to three knots. It is flat everywhere to the left and right. At the end of the fairway, we set sail, tacking hard into the wind towards the north-east, with an opposing current. The ship pounds in the waves. Fishing nets lurk all around us. After six nautical miles, we start to have our first doubts: perhaps we should return to the harbour or head for Malmö? We struggle to fight our way against the wind metre by metre. On top of that, seasickness is again on board. We have to make a decision: If we break off today, we won't make the return journey to Berlin in our time slot. But suddenly Rasmus shows mercy: the wind turns to the east. We can finally switch off the engine and head for Copenhagen under sail.
With the destination of our journey in sight, the smiles slowly return to the crew's faces. Ten days after casting off in Berlin, we arrive at Kastrup Marina. We only spend one day in the Danish capital - just enough time for the promised coffee by the water and a visit to Tivoli Park - but in the end it was more about the journey than the destination anyway. But we savoured this one day to the full - because it felt more than deserved. And when we moor up at the jetty of our home harbour on Stößensee after 16 days, it feels like we've been on the road for a whole month.
