The Journey, Germany
Where everything started.
Mannheim, Germany
Roll-Out to Launch Site
For weeks I had been trying to arrange transport to get my kayak from my garage to the launch site in the Rheinau Harbor, to no avail. No one had a large car or small truck that I could borrow or hire (for a reasonable fee) to transport it there. The Hobie Tandem Island Kayak comes with an optional trolley/cart that the kayak can rest upon and make it pretty easy to roll around for short distances. But the launch site is almost a kilometer away. 890 meters to be exact, a little over a half a mile. Not far - in the middle of the night (low traffic), 3 people, doable. My thinking was, it's not going to get to the river by itself, it's time to act.
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I went to my son, Orion, sat on his bed and said, "We need to talk."
"About?", he asked.
I told him, "I need you and Dennis (his best friend) to help me move my kayak to the Wasserschutzpolizei (River and Harbor Police) pier in the harbor. The only way I've come up with is to roll it on it's trolley through town, in the middle of the night."
"When", he asked.
"Midnight tonight", I said.
"Is that illegal", he asked.
"I don't know", I said, laughing. "If it is and we get caught, we'll blame it on Dennis."
He laughed and said, "We're in."
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And like clockwork, both Dennis and Orion were there at midnight. Rolled the Bold Venture through town, past the Harbor Police Station to their pier, launched her, they disappeared, I got everything temporarily packed and situated and was off before sunrise.
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I peddled 4.5 kilometers (2.8 miles) downstream to a predetermined staging area/camp site where I could repack, do weight and balance checks, repack again until she was ready to travel. This also gave me the opportunity to say proper goodbyes to my kids and dogs.
Route to Staging Area/Camp Site
Packing and Preparing on the Alt Rhein
I spent 2 days at the Alt Rhein rearranging what I had packed in order of need and accessibility. I had packed a lot of kit. I remember when I was mountaineering in my younger days, we had a rule of thumb; pack everything you need, and then cut that in half. This line of thought was based on weight, the weight you would have to carry on your back in your rucksack. It made sense, a man can only carry so much and still perform satisfactorily the task at hand. I ignored that rule as what I was taking with me would not be on my back but in the holds of the kayak. Still, considering how the kayak sat ridiculously low in the water, it was too much and I sent many things, deemed unnecessary, back into storage. As of yet, I haven't regretted that decision.
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While at the staging area I met many curious passersby that asked what I was doing and when I explained that I planned to go around the world in a sailing kayak, most expressed their opinion that I was crazy, usually walking away shaking their heads in disbelief. This, at times, was very discouraging, so much so, that I stopped saying "around the world" and just said, "I'm headed towards Africa." This seemed to soften the blow for the skeptical and I spent a lot less time explaining myself to complete strangers. There were others though, that offered words of encouragement, who recognized the spirit of adventure in this endeavor and who's kindness and positive concerns would bring my morale factor back up, people like Christian, Annette, Carla and Benjamin and their son Jascha, who I stay in touch with to this day. You can see Jascha in the top left photo forground.
It was close to noon by the time I had broken camp, packed up and peddled out of the Alt Rhein and into the Rhein River. Staying in the shallower waters well away from the shipping lanes,...
Worms, Germany
The first night I camped just north of and opposite Worms in a small backwater slew with gravel banks. I had planned to camp in Worms proper but the river front was blocked off by the river police and all boats had been cleared from the pier. Probably some dignitary was visiting and was all a security precaution. Worms, as you know, is home of St. Peter's Cathedral (Wormser Dom), a pretty important place in Catholic history, at times, it gets a lot of attention.
Nierstein, Germany
The next night I camped directly opposite Nierstein, just north of Oppenheim where General George S. Patton in command of the U.S. Third Army crossed the Rhein in early March, on a bridge constructed by the 150th Engineer Combat Battalion (ECB). Hard to visualize as it's such a quiet peaceful place now.
Rheingau, Germany
I stopped in at the Rheingau Sailing Club to stay the night and was welcomed by a group of the regulars (stammtisch). They told me the stay for one night was free of charge with use of the shower, and had no problem whatsoever with me pitching my tent in their backyard, what a deal! I had dinner with the group and they gave me tons of good information about navigating the Rhein in particular, Binger Loch, a dangerous stretch of the river that was coming up soon. At the time, it all seemed so business as usual, but now in retrospect, I can't say enough about the warm welcome and friendliness of the Rheingau Sailing Club. I was to learn later, they won't all be this way.
Rudesheim am Rhein, Germany
My stop at Rudesheim am Rhein was the first night that I didn't sleep in my tent. In the photo below you can see a decommissioned small cargo barge that is the Rudesheim Sailing Club's clubhouse, office, and for one night, my hotel. I slept on one of the beer table benches, it was a nice break to not have to break camp and pack before taking off in the morning. The mooring fee for the night was 10 Euros, shower and WIFI included (the WIFI wouldn't work).
Bridge destroyed in WWII.
Kamp Bornhofen, Germany
Kamp Bornhofen was my next stop after Rudesheim am Rhein. It's situated almost at the end of Binger Loch, a gorge that the Rhein River slices through the Taunus mountain range. I was warned repeatedly by the locals at Rheinau and Rudesheim that is a very treacherous track of the river as it narrows, winds around, the current becomes very swift and at places whirlpools form, some large enough to pull in small boats (or so I was told). That, mixed with heavy ship traffic, makes a dangerous stretch of the river. I was warned not to go outside the marker buoys as they set directly above a rock shelf where the river depth can go from 5 meters (15feet) to 50 cm (19 inches) in less than a meter's distance, and even less when the river level is low. They were right, I came around a bend turning westward when I found myself directly broadside a barge coming upstream as he was turning broad to make the bend, he was using most of the river's width to make the turn and the stern of his ship was coming directly towards me. I was hugging the buoy line and I'm sure I could have made it past him but why risk getting that close to his propeller and a possible mishap? I turned a hard right around a marker bouy and was almost around it when I felt my rudder drag on a rock. Luckily I had uncleated my rudder beforehand and it just folded up and thus suffered no damage.
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When I made camp that night, I decided to try something. Instead of pitching my Decathlon tent, I wanted to see if I could make a makeshift shelter out of the akas and amas of my Tandem Island and easy enough, with 4 bits of small rope, tied the akas together and a sheet of canvas thrown over and secured, Voila!, it worked. In fair weather or just a place to beach and get out of the sun, it would do just fine.
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All the while I'm working, 2 older men (80-90 years old) sat higher up the bank on a park bench, watching me. I finished my little project and settled down and was making coffee when they both walked up and questioned, where I was from, what I was doing, how long I'd been at it, etc. I explained that I was headed towards Africa. They both congratulated me and said that they wished they had done the same thing when they were my age. I offered them coffee and they declined and said their viel gluck, gute reise (good luck and safe travels) and walked back towards town.
Cologne, Germany
The next notable stop was in Cologne, the in-city port is located directly behind the Lego shaped buildings seen in the photos. The port was technically closed and the security guards, once satisfied I was passing through and would stay only one night, gave me the code to the gate. Mooring fee; free of charge. I spent the evening walking around the Altstadt Sud (Old City South). It was so warm and dry that I didn't pitch a tent on the pier but slept in my sleeping back with a dew cloth thrown over it. Breaking camp in the morning was easy and again I was on my way down river.
Sturzelberg, Germany
Across the Rhein, to the west of Dusseldorf is a large campground popular with German, Dutch and the British holiday campers. Most of the campsites are permanent rent sites where camping trailers sit year round. The broad shoals of shallow water makes for a habitat of a wide range of European waterfowl. It also made a great place to anchor my Tandem Island eliminating the need to pull her ashore for the night.
Duisburg, Germany
The Duisburg Incident
This story actually begins in Mannheim. While preparing for the trip I enlisted the help of the local Wasserschutzpolizei (Harbor and River Police, (literally, Water Protection Police)). I needed to register my newly acquired EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon). This is required in case of emergency, and, if it is activated, it identifies you, your position, and notifies help closest to you. Globally. While wading thru the paperwork I asked the Officer assisting me if it is allowed to sail on the Rhein. He said no, it isn't. Fair enough, now I know for sure. Or so I thought...
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Weeks later when I reached Rheingau, there were sail boats everywhere! On the Rhein! All over the Rhein! I thought, what's going on here? During dinner that evening with friends there at the Sailing Club, I popped the question once more. Is it legal to sail on the Rhein? The answer was a unanimous — YES! So I pressed further, what exactly are the rules concerning sailing on the Rhein? The short answer was, "not many that we know of, just don't zig-zag upwind in front of the river barges or ships, that's the main thing." I thought to myself, that's easy enough to remember.
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I didn't have an opportunity to sail until a week or so later. Having left Rheingau/Rudesheim, the next stretch on the Rhein was the Binger Loch where sailing was unthinkable and then the winds from the north being unfavorable, it wasn't until I was just south of Bonn where the northern rolling hills of the Taunus open up to the flat plains a little south of the Ruhr Gebiet. There I caught a gusty west wind that pushed me north. In the days that followed I sailed past Bonn, Cologne, Dusseldorf making good time. I met 2 Wasserschutzpolizei patrol boats who's crew waved as I sailed by. I was both confident and comfortable that I was in the clear, sailing on the Rhein.
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The morning I left Krefeld and headed downstream toward Duisburg, there was a brisk south wind that shot me like a bullet northward. I was topping 10 knots at times, it was the first time during my trip that I was passing the barges instead the usual, them passing me. Entering into Duisburg the river traffic was getting thicker and more than once I furled in my sail and drifted close to the bank to let the barges pass by, then I would resume my way northward.
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I was hugging the west bank of the Rhein and was just going under the L-140 bridge in Duisburg when a Wasserschutzpolizei boat came alongside and a voice of the the PA system told me to take the immediate left into a small harbor. I swung hard left as did he and we both entered the harbor. They were the first to the pier and were already moored and motioning me to pull alongside and moor to them, which I did.
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They helped me from my boat to theirs and ushered me inside and offered me a seat at the galley table which I took. They offered me coffee and set a brotchen with butter and jam in front of me which I accepted, all the while asking me questions as to where I was going, where I was from and so on. They were so incredibly friendly I was ready to confess and I wasn't even sure why I'd been pulled over yet. After a few minutes of lighthearted conversation, the hammer fell. "You were sailing in a No Sailing Zone." I asked, how can someone tell where the Sailing Zones are? I further explained that as I was traveling down the river, I saw many signs designating the Waterski and Jetski Zones, but none exist for sailing, how can one tell exactly where to sail and where not to? Their answer was, more or less, you have to be from here and, ask the locals. I was thinking, that's a bit impractical but I kept it to myself. Whether it was a vague set of laws or not, they had a legitimate reason to pull me over and cite me if they wished, it's best not argue my case too much and force them to sit in the judges chair. I asked them to please give me the sailing zones on paper and I will abide by them to the letter. The skipper said, "That's simple, you cant sail until you reach the second bridge north of the city." And then added, "You can't sail by the mouth of any harbor and, it's best not to sail through any city at all." I thanked him for that information.
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Then came questions concerning safety. Did I have a proper PFD (Personal Flotation Device)? Yes, 2, the one I was wearing and a standby. VHF Radio? Yes, 2. First Aid kit? Yes, 3. EPIRB or PLB (Personal Locator Beacon)? Yes, EPIRB. The tone of their questioning was more of concern for my safety than that of an interrogation looking for infractions. Then they asked if I had all I needed, food, water? "Herr Smith, is there anything we can do for you?" I said, no thank you, you've been very kind." pointing toward the table where the empty coffee cups and plates sat. I was really thinking, if I can just get out of here without handcuffs, I'll be just great!
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They wished me luck and ushered me back out the door, I asked if I could take pictures and they happily obliged. We said our goodbyes and I was off.
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As I passed the second bridge north of the city, my sail went up!
Wesel, Germany
It was late evening, almost dark, when I drifted through Wesel. There was construction under the bridge and I had difficulty seeing the construction warning buoys that I was navigating around, avoiding going out into the shipping lane in near darkness. I was, more of less, drifting with the current, going just fast enough to steer Bold Venture around the buoys. By the time I reached the mouth of the harbor to the Wesel Yachthafen (Yacht Harbor) it was completely dark and I slowly paddled around the bend until I could see the lights of the Yacht Club far ahead. Focusing on the reflection of the lights in the water, I could see no obstructions in front of me so I sped up, heading straight for the guest pier. I arrived in about 10 minutes time. I was securing my mooring lines when I was greeted by Reinholdt and Thomas. They had watched me while I was docking and their curiosity got the best of them and they came over, introduced them selves and asked what this kayak/trimaran Dingsta (thingy) was and had I built it myself? I explained, no, it was made by Hobie and could be paddled, peddled or sailed. They were truly fascinated and one went to get his wife, Beatrix, and brought her over to show her this strange craft. I asked if it would annoy anybody if I camped on the pier for one night and they assured me, no, it would be fine. They went about their way I and unpacked my food box and made myself a large tuna salad for dinner.
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The next morning, I was up by 7 and promptly packed away my sleeping bag to clear the pier for foot traffic. I saw Reinholdt and after the customary good morning greetings (very important in Germany) I asked if there was a nearby place to by a morning coffee. He told me, no, but he could arrange one for me and took off towards his boat, a medium sized river cabin cruiser. He returned in about 10 minutes with a plate in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. I was quite taken aback that the coffee had morphed into a full breakfast! Beatrix had determined that a coffee alone was not enough for the guy with the strange boat and cooked me a fried egg on toast with grilled tomatoes. I finished my breakfast and took the plate and cup back to their boat and thanked them. By that time Thomas had arrived and we all sat there with another cup of coffee and chatted for a half an hour until it was time for me to go. I said my goodbyes thank yous, once again, and peddled out of the harbor.
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It was a beautiful morning, I had just had a beautiful breakfast, it was the start of a good day.
