Channel Islands: The island of Jersey - a small world of its own

We cross the sea border to Jersey, or more precisely: to the Bailiwick of Jersey. Because their territory also includes the rocks of the "Minkies", which are covered at high tide. The south coast of the main island of Jersey has of course long been in sight. The main town of Saint Helier with its large ferry harbour lies relatively centrally, framed by two wide bays, Saint Aubin Bay in the west and Saint Clement's Bay in the east. Four light-coloured skyscrapers serve as a clear landmark.

Arrival in Jersey: Saint Helier Marina

Our destination is Saint Helier Marina, the innermost basin. Here, too, everything is mighty and massive to protect us from the sea. With Elizabeth Castle on our port side, we enter the marina, pass the traffic control centre tower (VHF 14) and the entrance to the marina. The traffic light at the sill shows green twice and white once: Attention at the entrance! The marina's aluminium boat immediately comes alongside and assigns a berth.

The pool is rectangular and the eight metre high walls are made of large granite blocks. The international origins of the current guests can be recognised by the flagpoles at the top of the wall: Germany, France, the Netherlands and the USA. The British are also guests here and get their Union Jack. Everything here is solid and technically up to scratch, the service areas are clean and the signs are polite. The marina office is housed in an old warehouse from the days of Queen Victoria, right next to the Maritime Museum, which we plan to visit tomorrow.

All about the Gulf of St Malo:

• France: Insider tip in the Gulf of Saint-Malo - the Îles Chausey
• Island of Jersey - a small world of its own
• Guernsey and Herm - two unequal neighbours
• Island of Alderney - Caribbean flair on the English Channel

As a large screen confirms, the weather over the next few days will not be very summery: the forecast is for north-westerly winds of 6 to 7, persistent, occasionally even 8, plus a decent wave. That's too much for us - and from the wrong direction to boot. Because our next destination, Guernsey, lies to the north-west. Instead of a two-day stay, it will end up being four days - even if we don't realise it when we arrive. Fortunately, we have time. First we clear in, which we can do online in Jersey or directly on the PC in the marina office. There is no personal check, which is nice in these times.

Saint Helier: Freedom is very popular

As the sun comes out, we head ashore straight away. Saint-Helier is inconspicuous: grey residential and commercial buildings, but with polished signs at the entrances: do they belong to letterbox companies? Turn off, then across Seaton Place and Seale Street, a bit of London, third row. Up The Parade, where it gets busier, to the Parade Grounds with the memorial to General Don, who really was called that. As governor, he saved Jersey from Napoleon's grasp. Towards Broad Street and King Street it gets really pretty, with small shops and restaurants. The Royal Yacht Hotel tells of the glory of old times, garlands of flags flutter above the pavement, once United Kingdom, once Jersey: the red St Andrew's cross with the three lions of the island's coat of arms.

The crew meets up again at the Troubadour, the bar serves local beer: Liberation. The liberation from German occupation at the end of the Second World War, the occupation itself, must have left deep marks, so that it is present everywhere: Liberation Square, Liberation Station with Liberty Bus, the Freedom Tree on the promenade, now Liberation Ale. Although, no need for irony. Let's see if we can get any closer to history tomorrow. The Occupation Tapestry is also on display in the museum, I'm curious. Once the sun has gone, it quickly gets cold. On the way back, my gaze lingers on an engraved floor plate. It is the last in a series on the individual levels of the Beaufort scale: "Hurricane - Yacht crews decide to take up golf."

In the south-west of Jersey: La Corbière

The next morning, it is suspiciously peaceful in the shelter of the deep harbour basin. Up on the wall, however, a different wind is blowing - in the truest sense of the word. As predicted, the north-westerly blows the flags. We want to see for ourselves what this does to the sea: at the lighthouse of La Corbière. The taxi to the south-west tip of the island costs 30 Jersey pounds, but the driver gives us some insight: That Jersey people speak of England or Europe, depending on the direction in which they leave the island. And that, despite all their independence with their own language and currency, they still feel connected to the British Crown (and its respective owner) as a Crown Estate.

We drive along Saint Aubin Bay, through the deserted village of the same name, a stretch through the forest, up and down, through residential areas, until the houses finally disappear and the narrow tarmac road ends after a few twists and turns at the car park of a hotel. We are high up here on the edge of the cliffs, the sea is full of whitecaps - and directly ahead, not a kilometre away, the white tower rises up on wild rocks. What a dramatic panorama! Further out, there's really something going on: the UK ferry is just coming into view. The large ship has to work hard in the sea, the spray flies right up to the bridge jib.

To the lighthouse at low tide

But the path to the 150-year-old structure is now dry, with wide concrete slabs leading across that look as safe as a road on land. Only the wet sand and the small pools on either side are a reminder that the landscape lies at the bottom of the sea for several hours twice a day, allowing the waves to roll freely over it. A new blue sign warns unsuspecting pedestrians of the danger; a siren sounds just before the causeway would be flooded.

An old plaque, on the other hand, shows the possible consequences of carelessness: it commemorates Peter Edwin Larbalestier, the lighthouse keeper's assistant, who lost his life on 28 May 1946 when he tried to save a visitor surprised by the rising tide. Take heed, all ye who pass by! You only reach safe ground again at the base of the tower itself; a horizontal strip along the brown rocks marks the high water line. The tower is not accessible, nor is there a café. A small viewing platform and a bench in the lee will have to suffice for a break before returning. An impressive place.

No island without a maritime museum

Back in Saint Helier, I use the rest of the afternoon to visit the Maritime Museum right next to the marina. A clearly organised but varied exhibition - often surprisingly personal. Even the ship models, such as HMS "Swallow". It shows the moment when the three-master discovered a nameless island in the vastness of the Pacific on 2 July 1767. The excitement on board can be felt even on a scale of 1:50, as every crew member is modelled, crowded together on the forecastle, in the shrouds and on the yards. To be more precise, it was a 15-year-old midshipman who sighted the island: Robert Pitcairn. It still bears his name today. Pitcairn, which soon achieved dubious fame as a place of escape after the mutiny on the "Bounty". The captain of the "Swallow", Philip Carteret, came from Jersey.

Like another skipper from the island who was gripped by wanderlust, albeit two centuries later: David Sandeman. His "Sea Raider" is also a perfect replica, from the self-steering system to the Avon life raft and sail number 53. As a 17-year-old in 1976, he became the youngest person ever to cross the Atlantic single-handed in the 35-foot sloop. It took him 43 days to complete the passage from Jersey to Newport in Rhode Island. His record stood until 2002.

A carpet tells a story

The museum building also houses the Occupation Tapestry. Wars can be made historically accessible in a variety of ways. Such an artistic approach has been chosen here: The hand-woven tapestry. Similar to its famous model, the Bayeux Tapestry, it depicts the entire course of the war, from the capture and occupation of the island by the Wehrmacht at the end of June 1940 to the liberation in May 1945. The original twelve, now thirteen panels in panoramic format are each 90 centimetres high and twice as wide.

In bold colours and in the style of the 1960s, they show different aspects, from the everyday life of the islanders to the fate of the forced labourers used to build the fortress. In its darkened room, explained in three languages, the carpet is a special experience. The first twelve pictures were created by the twelve communities of Jersey in seven years of work and were made accessible to the public on 9 May 1995 - the 50th anniversary of the liberation. The thirteenth panel was added in 2015 to mark the 70th anniversary. Its theme: remembrance - and reconciliation.

By bus to the east: Gorey

On the second day, we save the taxi for exploring. Our destination this time is the east of the island: Gorey, a small harbour town. Our number 2 bus winds its way along narrow roads, some of which are bordered by high hedges (the vehicle is correspondingly compact). The journey takes just under half an hour, through the villages of Grouville and La Ville-ès-Renauds, before we reach our stop: Gorey Pier. A pretty little turning area with a dinghy planted with flowers in the middle, followed by a promenade with palm trees and then the waterfront with a row of old houses and a bay bordered by a pier that serves as a harbour - only without any water. Towering above it all are the walls and battlements of Mont Orgeuil Castle, a castle straight out of a picture book.

We descend the harbour steps and once again walk along the bottom between visitor moorings, a tangle of chains, open fishing boats and a small trawler lying on its side. Across the sand, then towards the castle; the Germans added a few towers, cleverly camouflaged in style and material: they housed rangefinders for the Kriegsmarine). We climb onto the pier, where it is windy and dinghies are lined up like books on a shelf. Instead, there is an endless view along the coast to the south, until the gleaming white sandy beach disappears into the distance. This is how I imagined Jersey, the sunniest place in the British Isles - if it weren't for the wind.

Rain without end. So what?

The thick grey of the third day ensures that most of the crews stay below deck in the harbour. On the large aluminium ketch from Hoek van Holland, which arrived yesterday and is now in our packet, they have hung up their salt-encrusted oilskins in the rain. Gusts of rain whip over Saint Helier again and again. It clears up a little around half past ten. Now it's time for Elizabeth Castle, which has guarded the harbour on its tidal island since the 16th century. Like La Corbière, it can only be reached at low tide.

Down to the beach. The path is surprisingly muddy and we still have to cross a small rivulet on stepping stones. But after a good quarter of an hour, our small group reaches the paved ramp that leads up to the gate. We leave room for the high-legged swimming bus that commutes here and are about to go in when we see the price tag: £15.95. Suddenly all three of us are no longer in the mood for a scaffolded castle against a grey sky. There are better ways to spend the money, for example in the evening on Royal Square in the Cock & Bottle - for cumberland sausage pinwheels and coastal cheddar with ale chutney.

The way back at dusk, however, leads through another downpour. Nevertheless, it gets louder and louder in front of us, more and more people crowd the street: the festival on Weighbridge Place has opened! Terrible weather and young islanders who don't seem to mind at all. Music is blaring and lights are ringing. Lots of noise, lots of skin and thin summer dresses flapping like wet flags. At least the heavens have seen sense. We get a round of Stinky Bay at a stall and wait for the wind to blow us dry.

The last day in Jersey: La Rocque

The last day! It has already cleared up and the wind is supposed to die down in the afternoon, at least a little. I get off the bus in La Rocque. The town lies on the south-eastern tip of Jersey, from here the Violet Bank stretches out into the sea like a large wedge of rock, one and a half nautical miles long and two nautical miles wide at the base. This reef also falls almost completely dry and reveals - similar to the Îles Chausey - a chaotic world of rock columns, sandbanks, lagoons and rivulets. Like right now. In early times, when the sea level was lower, Neanderthals are said to have lived here.

Far out, on the low tide line: Seymour Tower. It was built at the end of the 18th century to defend the island and is not only accessible on foot, but also offers easy overnight accommodation. That would have been something: A night at the castle instead of on board! I see walkers who have just set off. They soon disappear from view behind a rock. I go down to the beach instead, where some holidaymakers are sitting in the shade of the high sea wall. There's virtually no wind here, it's really midsummer. I take photos of boats on dry land, of the sky-high pier and of the rock-strewn horizon. This is how I will remember Jersey.

All about the Gulf of St Malo:

• France: Insider tip in the Gulf of Saint-Malo - the Îles Chausey
• Island of Jersey - a small world of its own
• Guernsey and Herm - two unequal neighbours
• Island of Alderney - Caribbean flair on the English Channel