Text: Christoph Heine
It is mid-May, midnight, we have passed the peninsula and the Kolka lighthouse in the late afternoon and are now motoring south-east towards Riga. Consistent high-pressure weather means there is little wind. We were able to sail another 20 miles in the afternoon, but then it fell asleep again and the Yanmar has been purring in the basement ever since. However, as the DWD is forecasting no change for the next few days, we have decided to sail the 120 nautical miles from Ventspils to Riga overnight and in one go in order to take advantage of the expected calm to visit the city.
The water is almost as smooth as glass and the magic is that it doesn't get really dark for the first time that night. Although the Arctic Circle is still a long way off, astronomical dusk has already reached dawn here. Monika is asleep in the saloon, I am alone and savouring every moment.
A freighter is approaching from Riga, but we have enough distance and so I only see one red and two white lanterns pass without having to intervene in the autopilot. Then the moon rises and the Latvian coast can be seen dimly. I savour every moment, even though it's two o'clock in the morning. It is these moments that fascinate us again and again on this journey through Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia.
In general, we are mostly lonely at sea in mid-May. We rarely see other sailors and only meet German crews twice, once in Ventspils and then in Tallinn. The Baltic States are obviously still a fairly unknown area for us, which is of course also due to the fact that it is quite far away and not easy to reach.
For my wife and I, the opportunity to sail around the Baltic Sea came suddenly in spring 2024, and we didn't have to think about it for 24 hours. We got our "Artemis", an almost brand-new Dehler 34, from a charter company in Western Pomerania. She sails fast and the technology is reliable. Only the 20 hp engine is slightly underpowered, which we clearly felt in the persistent doldrums.
The loneliness disappears abruptly when we call at a harbour. The harbour masters like advance notice by phone and are always helpful. Perhaps also because we are often the only guests. Our nationality often makes us the attraction of the day. We are never left alone for long. You can get by anywhere with English, but German is also often spoken, especially in Lithuania.
We travelled via Poland, along the coast, then to Gdansk. From Gdynia, we make our first long overnight trip to Klaipėda in the Baltic States. There is no alternative, the 120 miles have to be done. At the end of April, it is still cold and uncomfortable, especially when sailing upwind, but a steady foursail pushes us through the Russian economic zone to the north-east. When sailing at night, I always dock with the pencil on the hour. This is a safety measure, as we have heard that the GPS is often disturbed.
Somewhat exhausted, we reach Klaipėda, formerly known as Memel and Germany's most north-eastern city, on 1 May. We are curious about the old East Prussia, which is so often romanticised. The next day, we sail on to Nida in the Curonian Lagoon, see the spit and its dunes, a magnificent natural landscape and a somewhat heavily concreted Nida. Thomas Mann's summer house stands there, expropriated by the Nazis, plundered and demolished by the Soviets and now a replica. But the idyll is still there.
We set off on the return journey to Klaipėda again under motor in calm conditions, but it soon becomes clear that this is not a good idea. Myriads of mosquitoes have settled on the glassy brackish water of the lagoon, which we scare off with our bow wave. They obviously like the warm sprayhood and the teak. There are more by the minute. We put on all the oilskins we have in the bright sunshine and lock everything, the companionway, the windows. They are in our jacket pockets, in our ears, in the thermos flask. The invasion only stops when we reach the industrial harbour of Klaipėda five hours later.
A northerly wind holds us for two days; it's 50 nautical miles to our next destination in the Baltic, Liepāja. We don't want to cross this route, so we explore Klaipėda. The little town is unspectacular, but very inviting with its relaxed city centre, avenues and harbour promenade. On the second day, a cruise ship arrives and disgorges a few hundred guests, but they lose themselves in the sprawling squares and the weekly market. We are moored in the Danes river, directly in front of the fort harbour at a historic site. The cogs and barges of the Hanseatic League moored right here 500 years ago.
Then a weather window opens up, an easterly wind! Ideal for Liepāja and Latvia. Half wind and hardly any fetch, perfect! It's just a shame that it's at night. We cast off at 10 pm. The Lithuanian border police obviously find this strange, they chase us with a speedboat and stop us two nautical miles after the exit. After a few explanations and giving our ship's details on VHF, they let us go. The border to Russia is well secured anyway, but they are probably looking for smugglers rather than warships. And certainly not German sailors.
Liepāja was completely unknown to us until now. Like almost all cities in the Baltic region, it welcomes us with a small but fine, brand new city marina and typical Baltic charm: wooden houses that look half Swedish, half Russian, large promenades with lots of flower pots and always a large market hall.
The special thing about Liepāja is the Karosta district. The tsars recognised the military importance of the ice-free harbour and the Soviets expanded it. A staggering one hundred warships were stationed here during the Cold War, always on alert, ready to leave in the event of a crisis and ensure sovereignty over the Baltic Sea.
A prefabricated housing estate was built for 20,000 soldiers and their families and is now a ghost town. But Karosta is worth a trip on foot precisely because of its historical significance. A magnificent Orthodox cathedral rises up in the midst of all the Soviet dreariness. An extremely amiable verger is very happy to welcome guests and invites us to listen to the carillon.
Sailing in Latvia means variety. In addition to larger cities such as Liepāja, Ventspils and the capital Riga, there are harbours in small and tiny towns such as Pāvilosta and Skulte. In Pāvilosta, the harbour master somehow looks familiar to me and it's actually Girts, who provided me with information about the area at the trade fair in Düsseldorf the year before and infected me with the idea of sailing in Latvia in the first place!
We learn that Pāvilosta is a holiday resort for the more affluent Latvians, who come mainly for peace and relaxation. Skulte in the Bay of Riga is a tiny village with a wooden harbour where a sailing club also welcomes guests. Eight berths are available for guests. We never get to see the head of the sailing club, but he is there for us practically around the clock via WhatsApp and telephone, enquiring whether we need anything and giving us hiking tips.
It is even lonelier in Salacgrīva. The harbour master first has to put the wash house into operation, apparently we are not only the only guests, but also the first of the season. It's small, but tiptop maintained, as is so often the case here. Long military convoys drive over the bridge that spans the Salaca, spreading noise and nervousness.
The Latvians are not nervous, however, and people here seem to live in harmony with the Russians, of whom there are quite a few. We meet a group of Russian-speaking children on our evening walk. They obviously like my wife, but as we hardly speak any Russian and they don't speak any German or English, they show their sympathy by giving us some of their fruit.
We reach Estonia in mid-May, which completes the Baltic region. Our first port of call is the old Hanseatic town of Pärnu. There's nothing Hanseatic about it, but it has a very lively and busy yacht club, whose staff look after us almost lovingly. We watch the spectacle of the Wednesday regatta from our box seat in the cockpit over dinner.
Kihnu is the first island on our cruise after Rügen! A tiny but idyllic island with birch forests, a lighthouse from England, a small museum of local history and a corner shop. We hire a bike and go on a tour, the island is so small that we are done after three hours. Then, once again, the weather throws a spanner in the works. A steady westerly wind thwarts our plan to head for Kuressaare on Saaremaa and we give up with a heavy heart after the YR reports nothing else in the morning.
Instead, we head directly north via the island of Muhu to Haapsalu, which lies on a peninsula in a wide bay that is so shallow that it resembles a lagoon. Once again, we experience a charming little town with Baltic wooden houses and a ruined castle, where we happen to run into an enchanting folklore festival. The flat terrain and the extremely long sunsets, which turn the golden hour into three hours, allow us to experience the special atmosphere with all our senses.
Then we set off on the last leg eastwards to Tallinn, into the Gulf of Finland. The coastline here is very indented, so we decide to take long strokes to make some distance. There is a brand-new marina just outside Tallinn, which we call at because the harbour guide describes it as very comfortable. We want to relax for a while, but we have not reckoned with the host: Kakumäe is a haven for Estonian party people, who are mainly known for their loud, booming music and equally loud engines. We only stay one night. If you like parties, this is the place for you, but not for us.
We moored in Tallinn for three nights. Of the many options, we decide on the Lennusadam museum harbour, which also has a jetty with berths for guests. The very friendly harbour master has already seen us coming and is waiting at the jetty to take our lines. She is also a walking tourist information centre.
The berth in front of the old dockyard, which now houses a maritime museum, between icebreakers and military ships is simply spectacular, and perhaps that's why Lennusadam has the famous feel-good factor. There is also a bar right on the pier in front of the jetty, but unfortunately we are three days too early.
The cityscape of Tallinn is just as impressive as the photos in the travel guide. However, the city is already full of tourists at the end of May, which is why we are sometimes turned away from the café in the Old Town. But we prefer to stick to the local events anyway, find flea markets where Estonian art and Soviet militaria are traded and are once again impressed by the Baltic cuisine.
Beetroot and sour cream play an important role here, as do roast potatoes and soft fruit. Fish anyway. And the modern era has also dawned here, and for the first time we shop in a completely unmanned supermarket.
A bus trip to the Estonian open-air museum is very worthwhile, the staff are dressed in various Estonian traditional costumes and cultivate customs and crafts. So you don't just see stones and wood, but also people who enjoy showing and explaining their culture.
Then it's time to say goodbye to Tallinn. Narva on the Russian border was actually still on the plan, but it is too remote, still 150 nautical miles away. What's more, the weather forecast for 1 June predicts an easterly 4, which means excellent conditions for the long leg from Tallinn to Helsinki. We want to make the most of it! We spent exactly one month in the Baltic States, which we will always remember as a magical May. We got to know the country and its people - and will definitely be back.
The sailing area is not very demanding. However, it should be borne in mind that there are occasionally long distances to cover between harbours. It is therefore highly advisable to have a watch leader on the crew with appropriate certificates of competence so that sailing times of longer than ten hours can be planned. There is hardly any tide.
However, the harbours in the Baltic States are sometimes a challenge for larger sailing yachts due to the small basins. Even a draught of 2 metres or more is often the limit of what is possible. Yachts over 10 m in length should always contact the harbour master before entering, ask to be allocated a berth and follow the instructions. Most harbours have finger pontoons, some have stern buoys, so take buoy hooks with you! In heavy seas, some harbours no longer allow entry!
In Klaipėda, entry must also be registered with the harbour office via VHF. The Baltic states have invested heavily in marina infrastructure in recent years. You can obtain high-quality information material such as harbour guides, area guides and trip planners as well as navigational instructions from the tourist associations. For Estonia and Latvia: eastbaltic.eu, for Lithuania: southcoastbaltic.eu
Information on travelling in Russian territorial waters in transit without a visa and port call ("peaceful passage") is provided by the German Embassy: germania.diplo.de/ru-en/search (Search term: "Information for sailors")
All Baltic states belong to the Schengen area and use the euro as their national currency. Card payment is possible everywhere, but it is advisable to carry some cash when visiting weekly markets. In remote harbours there may be no supply at all. Otherwise, you will often find restaurants with good local cuisine and shopping opportunities even in small towns. For the capital cities of Riga and Tallinn, you should plan at least one, preferably two days for exploring.