Cruising with children: Mother-son crew experience an adventure every day on Rügen

Text by Betty Pabst

Although no wind is forecast, we sail across the Greifswalder Bodden with three knots of speed and a tailwind. The sun is shining. The voice of Agnes Obel sounds softly from the jukebox. The rugged coastline of the Mönchgut peninsula gets smaller and smaller astern. My crew are Hans and Ede, ten and 13 years old. They are lounging in the cockpit, sun-tanned, their hair tousled and blond. Ede casually holds the tiller in his hand. We have three weeks of sailing together in our wake.

One last night at anchor off Palmer Ort, the south-eastern tip of Rügen at the entrance to the Strelasund. Here we can sail very close to the beach, the shore area is deep enough. As the sun sets, the wind dies down. The next day we have to return to Dänholm, the small island off Stralsund, the starting point of our holiday. The boys' dad, my ex-partner, is waiting for us there. We just miss the train at the Ziegelgrabenbrücke bridge in front of the island. So we moor up at the dolphin and pass the waiting time with a game of cards. Just as the bridge opens, heavy rain sets in. It pours like buckets, accompanied by thunder and lightning - what a brilliant end to our trip!

It started in the deepest inland: at a boat crane in Saxony. "Frida", our Biga 22 with centreboard, built in 1984, has its home port in the Leipzig Sailing Club on Lake Cospuden, which was created by the flooding of a former open-cast lignite mine in the south of Leipzig. Once a year we take her to the Baltic Sea. That means: laying the mast, uncraning, taking the trailer on the motorway, craning in, setting up the mast. It's a lot of work, but we usually get help and we've got the moves down pat.

Cruise begins with buoy overboard manoeuvre - safety first

The very first evening on the Dänholm makes us forget all our troubles. The sound is as smooth as glass in front of us, three seals play in the evening light. The silhouette of Stralsund is getting ready for the evening. Only the Hiddensee lighthouse remains dark. It is currently being renovated, we learn later. The children splash around in the water until it gets dark.

The next morning, "Frida" also enters the water. Harbour master Toni warns: "Get going, there's a storm forecast!" He and two colleagues lend a hand setting the mast. I am already tensioning the shrouds in the pouring rain. This year's summer weather is on the horizon and puts our patience to the test. After a short time, the children start running around below deck. The only thing that helps is a clear announcement: "Play outside!" Fortunately, there is no democracy on board - the skipper is in charge. In most cases, the children accept this - unlike sometimes in everyday life on land.

Finally, "Frida" is ready to sail. But a big fright at the first cast off: The engine stalls when we engage the clutch. The ship drifts through the harbour, but we get a line to a bollard. Luckily, it's only the badly seated valve on the petrol line, which is quickly fixed with the help of a strap. We breathe a sigh of relief and set course for Hiddensee. Shortly afterwards, the crew have to be persuaded a little to perform the first buoy overboard manoeuvre. But safety first. We have plenty of room to practise in the Kubitzer Bodden. We keep our distance from the coastguard at anchor to avoid any misunderstandings.

In case the children have to fish me out of the water, I show them the Q-tack manoeuvre. It works in almost all conditions if you have good control of the boat under sail. And they both know how to sail. It gives us security to know what to do in an emergency, even if it hopefully never happens. And the manoeuvre is fun too, especially if it works at the first attempt.

Children have become reliable sailors - that's relaxing

Hiddensee is familiar to us. We call at the island at least once on every cruise in the Baltic Sea. The fairway is very narrow in some places, and the water is only knee-deep at the buoy line. And of course, as always, the ferry comes towards us at the narrowest point. So we wave extensively in the direction of the island tourists, while "Frida" dances wildly in the ferry's wave with her sail flapping.

Unlike in previous years, I can now switch off while sailing. Ede and Hans stay on course, they can read the nautical chart and know the fairway markings. In general, it's worth trusting the children to do something. They learn to judge their own limits better. For example, the big one made his first mooring manoeuvre in Stahlbrode. Even last year, it could happen that the boys were so captivated by another boat when mooring that they completely forgot what they actually wanted to do with the lines in their hands. So I was always prepared to do everything on my own if necessary. Since then, they have grown considerably, also as sailors.

A good friend of ours accepts our mooring lines in Kloster. It's wonderful to be welcomed like this in the harbour. The Palucca Academy of Dance from Dresden is currently making a guest appearance on the island. Every day, the young dancers perform choreographies they have developed themselves at various locations. There is a lot going on on the island. But there are also quiet corners and empty beaches - thanks to the stormy, cool weather.

Störtebeker history in Ralswiek with plenty of spectacle

We let the wind blow through us on the beach. The children play with the waves that splash up against the stones of the sea defences. When our trousers are wet from the spray, we get rid of them and throw ourselves into the waves with loud cheers. Between the seaweed and the breaking sea, we have a blast until our teeth are chattering. A tourist in a thick jacket and woolly hat can't help but grin.

The next night we anchor in the Great Jasmund Bodden. It's hard to believe that we're on an island, the other shore is so far away. After a heavy downpour, the sun shines again. A double rainbow frames our boat. Magical light and a mirror-smooth sea. We have the expanse of the Bodden to ourselves: not another ship in sight. I invite my crew to Ralswiek. There, the story of Klaus Störtebeker and his Likedeelers is told on a large natural stage. Spectacular with lots of fire, noise, horses and eagles on stage - the children are thrilled. I miss some depth in the dialogue.

The harbour in Ralswiek is quiet and very sheltered at the southern end of the Great Jasmund Bodden. The town only fills up with travellers in the afternoon, with whole busloads of Störtebeker visitors strolling through the village and harbour. On board, you get the feeling of being Störtebeker's opening act, with so many people strolling along the jetty. Some sailors come here because the evening fireworks can also be seen from the harbour. Like our jetty neighbours. They are here every year and are therefore experts on the changing Störtebeker stories. Before we set off towards the open-air theatre, they call out to us: "Take some cushions with you!"

Cruise leads to former NVA base

When we want to continue, the wind comes from the south-west. We therefore decide to anchor on the eastern side of the Bug peninsula in Wieker Bodden. The nautical chart shows a jetty south of the Wittow sailing club. As we approach, however, we realise that no boat has been able to moor here for 30 years, it is so broken and rotten. We prefer to anchor.

In GDR times, the bow was a base for the NVA speedboat fleet and therefore a restricted military area. A huge harbour basin is still closed to pleasure craft today, but with its rusty quay walls it would not be particularly inviting either. At the end of the 1990s, most of the buildings and military facilities were demolished and plans were made to build a leisure resort including a harbour. However, the project has been on ice ever since, not least due to opposition from a citizens' initiative. Now you can book ornithological walks in the nature reserve and listen to the diverse songs of the birds from the old concrete slab roads.

At night, the wind picks up and turns to the south. "Frida" rocks violently and tugs at the anchor line. It's hard to say whether we've drifted a little or the wind has pushed the water away. In any case, we are stuck the next morning. But no problem thanks to the shallow draught of the Biga. I pull the boat into deeper water on foot.

Birthday with guests in a tiny overgrown bay on the Wampen

We want to go to Hiddensee again. The wind is blowing from the west again. It is not possible to tack in the narrow channel. So for a short distance we have to swap the quiet splashing of the waves for loud engine roaring and the smell of petrol. We are glad when we can drop off at the last buoy and calm returns. We usually only start our outboard motor during harbour manoeuvres. We often watch in amazement as large yachts motor in from astern in a wonderful wind. The children then proudly announce: "Why aren't they sailing?"

Neuendorf harbour is the quietest on Hiddensee, but also the smallest. It's already full in the early afternoon. As we enter the harbour, I see a dinghy cruiser in a box. On board is a dad on a cruise with two children, aged nine and eleven. We quickly agree that they will move to one side for us. A little later, we adults are chatting and four children are out exploring together. There are remarkably few other children in the harbours, so all four are delighted to have company. And so we decide to continue sailing together for the next few days.

So the six of us celebrate Ede's 13th birthday with cake and champagne in a tiny overgrown bay on the Wampen. Our boats are almost ashore in front of the stern anchors and the bows. The dredged hole was created in the 1980s and has been left to its own devices ever since. There are kingfishers and sea eagles here. A young fox watches our colourful troop. The entrance is difficult to recognise and also very shallow: For a moment there is only 30 centimetres of water under the keel, with a draught of 55 centimetres with the centreboard retracted. Whoever finds it must leave the marker, a stick in the water, on the starboard side.

We are the only ones in this wild idyll on this day. In the distance, we can see the hall of the Stralsund Volkswerft shipyard. Ede's birthday present, a tent, is set up by the children on the other side of the bay. To spend the night, they paddle their belongings packed in waterproof bags to the shore on the SUP. After a brief instruction - "Don't cross the water alone at night!" - two of the children set off at dusk to their adventurous sleeping spot. Luckily, our new friends have small radios with them. But they are not needed at all. In the morning, there is a rumble and two excited boys climb back on board. They report that the fox was sitting outside the tent entrance in the morning.

Towing manoeuvres with the Biga become almost routine

Our cruise continues eastwards and our friends set off for Stralsund. Two sea eagles are perched on a pylon in the Strelasund. Fascinated by the sight, we lose our course in the fairway. Our centreboard promptly digs itself into the mud. I grumble and am so busy manoeuvring the boat back into deeper water that I don't notice another sailor waving his towline. His boat is really stuck.

The children make sure that we come to his aid. We take over his line and try to drive under motor with our stern against his. This turns out to be difficult because the strong crosswind keeps pushing "Frida" into the shallows. But then we manage it, the towline tightens and, cheered on loudly, we pull the sailor off the flat. "I've been sitting here for a while and lots of people have sailed past," says the rescued man, visibly relieved. How sad that it's obviously no longer a matter of course for everyone to help each other on the water. It was great for my crew, as they are real fans of the sea rescuers. During the next towing manoeuvre on our trip, this time a sailor got stuck behind the harbour entrance of Baabe, we almost had a routine. Everything goes quickly and skilfully. We high-five each other - and have grown together as a crew once again

During the next towing manoeuvre, this time a yachtsman got stuck behind the harbour entrance of Baabe, we almost have a routine. Everything goes quickly and skilfully. We high-five each other - and have grown closer as a crew.

The weather on the cruise is capricious and makes for teamwork

After a rainy day in Thiessow on the Mönchgut, we set off to sail across the Greifswalder Bodden towards Wreechen. There is a beautiful anchorage 1.5 nautical miles south-west of Lauterbach. A dark cloud front is approaching from the south-west. However, no thunderstorms are forecast, so rain is to be expected. There is plenty of rain this summer.

As the wind picks up, I climb forwards to tie in the reef. Suddenly a gust hits the sail with force. The Biga heeled alarmingly and almost went off course. Ede leans on the tiller with all his weight. We hoist the mainsail completely and furl the genoa to towel size. Fortunately, we have good mast sliders, so the main falls down by itself as soon as the halyard is released. At the same time, a downpour sets in. By now, all three of us have been hauled in. We pulled a line on both sides of the boat at the start of the trip.

An impressive wave quickly builds up. I steer "Frida" so that she doesn't cross the waves. This way we are sailing steadily, but we are drifting in the wrong direction. What's more, the short, steep waves toss us back and forth. The bow can't manage a tack, so we jibe "Frida" to at least drift in the right direction. After three-quarters of an hour, the spook is over and we can get out. Soaking wet and still slightly high on adrenalin, we share our joy at having mastered a good challenge on the trip.

Baabe inspires, but the cruise is coming to an end

We moor at Bollwerk, the cosy little harbour in Baabe. The friendly harbour master recommends the "Moritzburg" restaurant on the opposite side. From there you have a great view of the harbour, the Having and the Mönchgut. The waiter answers our question about fish fingers and chips with a humorous frown: "Nah, we don't do that here." The fish platter tastes delicious. We sit for so long that we later have to call the ferryman to get us back to our boat on the other side of the water.

The next day we are standing on the Baltic beach in Baab: colourful towels everywhere, beach shells and hundreds of bathers despite the cloudy weather. We are at a bit of a loss, the children don't feel like swimming. Then we discover Surf & Sail Baabe, a sailing school. Ede and Hans are thrilled and borrow a Topaz, a sporty two-handed dinghy. We quickly rigged it up, waited for the next rain front and got out on the water. The boys let off steam on the boat and practise rolling turns. The sailing instructor is so pleased with the two of them that he lets them sail for much longer than the rented hour. I sit on the beach and have time to write.

Finally, we head back across the Greifswalder Bodden, heading for Palmer Ort. The trip and our time together on "Frida" went by far too quickly. We make plans: next time we'd like to spend the whole holiday, or even better, another six months. Will school and dad go along with it? A friend always says: "There are holidays and there are trips with children." For me, our trip was definitely both.

Tips for sailing with children

• Involve the children in all preparations and work where possible
• Trust in the children's abilities and take them seriously when they dare to try new things for themselves
• Discuss everything, make decisions together
• Prepare and discuss manoeuvres in good time and distribute tasks
• The children should be able to swim well, which makes a lot of things easier
• A coach's whistle can be useful to call the children if they get too far away while swimming or on the SUP
• Always wear life jackets, then you can't forget to put them on at the crucial moment and the children get used to them
• Calmly discuss how important it is on board that announcements are followed, especially when things have to be done quickly. This can be discussed later when the boat is safely in harbour or at anchor
• Agree on fixed rules on board, preferably together at the start of the journey
• Don't sail too long legs unless the crew feels like it
• A small, seaworthy boat is great because the children can then do a lot and everything is easy to operate
• Plan from day to day, according to wind and weather. Pre-determined destinations can quickly cause stress on the trip
• Take travel peps against seasickness in case the going gets rough

The author

Betty Pabst, photographer and psychological counsellor (sailing-therapy.com), learnt to sail on the Strelasund at the age of eight. Today, she trains children and young people and works for the Turning Point Foundation

Also interesting:

• Greifswalder Bodden: Cruising through the diverse waters off Rügen's southern coasts
• Jasmund Bodden and Co: The Bodden areas on Rügen - ideal for nature lovers
• Family sailing: Ten tips for children's games while sailing
• Blue water: With small children on a big trip
• Family time: Parental leave under sail - how the Erdmann family experienced it