Prolog
About an ocean - a journey - a language - a law
Traveling by train to the Baltic Sea, I realized with a sigh that I had forgotten again some names of islands and cities scattered along the European side of the Atlantic, places we would like to travel to. I always do this when I have plenty of time, committing words or names to memory. At least I should know exactly where we have been already and where we would like to sail next.
Our first sailing adventure along the European Atlantic coast almost two decades ago is still well in my recollection. Unexpectedly, we got the chance for a sabbatical, one solid year of sailing. We bought the very first yacht we surveyed on the spot and spent every minute practicing to sail our ATHENE safely. Three years later, we had drawn countless course lines in the waters of the Ijsselmeer and Dutch coast. In June 2002, we set sail for our once in a lifetime adventure. After thirteen months and 5500 nautical miles of experience, we returned safely to Holland. We are still in possession of the yacht, another startling fact. We never thought we would be crazy enough to own and maintain a boat for such a long time. In retrospect, the right decision, by now, we sailed ATHENE just under 20,000 miles.
I bring this up since we had published a book in Germany about our first journey under the title 'Breakfast with Dolphins.' Having a lot of free time on our hands in the years to come, we like to sail courses generously on the European side of the Atlantic. Remotely, I toyed with the idea of committing more stories of our adventures to writing; people we met, marvelous landscapes, flora and fauna, impressive cities and stately homes, delicious food, beach parties, getting ourselves in trouble and out, and so forth. Why not publish a new edition? To add spice for the younger generation, a title like 'Breakfast with Dolphins, Reloaded' or 'SAIL HARD,' written by a fictional writer named Bruce Winslow, might pay out better. I think just 'Breakfast with Dolphins' sounds charming too.
The idea of writing took shape after meeting Peter Förthmann in Hamburg. He is the manufacturer of the world-known Windpilot, a self-steering system for sailing yachts. His well organized, snug workshop impressed me. Peter is energetic and has a winning nature. At the end of an entertaining conversation, I did not doubt that he still has many ideas and plans to realize. One keyword led to another, and he showed me his multilingual books about the Windpilot. Free of charge, shy below two million copies were downloaded. As you might guess, the English text outreached the others by far. In the foreseeable future, readers have to pay two or three euro a copy.
His plan stuck with me for a while until a divine afflatus touched me, and I wondered why not to write in English too? For several reasons, actually. One, I always wanted to do it. What should I wait for? There is nothing to lose besides my spotless reputation. Second, it's an excellent chance to improve my English language skills. Third, it is the opportunity to be a pain in the neck of English native speakers and other experts on this matter. Fourth, when I'm lucky, my potential readers might get useful information, a hint, or just an inspiration. Fifth, when I am fortunate, my readers enjoy the complete story, and that's what matters most.
The more my wife and I talked about places where we would love to sail to, places where we have been already and like to see again, the more challenging it was to keep track of. One reason is, we don't pay much attention to the news regarding the Atlantic Islands, besides an Azores High, gladly stated in the weather forecast by a friendly speaker. To cite another example, I can't remember any news on TV or in the papers about the Shetland Islands this year. Maybe a crime story, 'Murder on Shetland,' but that is not exactly what we are looking for.
To categorize the dimensions and distances of the areas we like to sail a few dates. The Atlantic Ocean is the second-largest in the world, and it covers a 5th of the globe's surface. It spans from pole to pole, from the Arctic to the Antarctic, from Europe to the east coasts of the United States and Canada. In the southern hemisphere, the Atlantic links from West Africa to countries like Brazil and Argentina. It locates several of the world's biggest islands in its waters. The British Isles, Greenland, Ireland, Iceland, Newfoundland, archipelagos like the Azores, Bahamas, Bermudas, Falklands, Canaries, and Cape Verde.
All the islands' population figured up, regardless of the nations, are small by world standards. In the world economy, the isles are consequently peripheral, besides the United Kingdom and Ireland. Commercial shipping takes advantage of the ocean with the consequence a vast fleet of cargo ships sails to and from Europe. Because of its importance to the world economy and its strategic value for the Navy, engineers built artificial canals in Panama and Suez to the adjoining waters, the Pacific and the Indian Ocean.
At the turn of the twentieth century, significant advances in transatlantic travel were being made. Shipping lines like White Star or Cunard offered their passengers the fastest Ocean liners. Cunard was the most innovative in the world; electric lighting and wireless communication were on board. The Mauretania held the Blue Riband for the fastest crossing of the Atlantic from 1909 to 1929. Well, on 15 April 1912, it didn't work out for White Star Line, and supposedly 1514 souls were lost at sea. In its rough northern parts, the Atlantic was, is, and will be challenging for sailors. A fact we have to consider when we sail to the Shetlands and maybe further north to the Faeroe Islands.
Writing about travels in Europe, one should not disregard the last decades' outstanding achievements, despite all legitimate criticism on Brussels. I was born and raised in Trier, Germany, close to Luxembourg, Belgium, and France. When my parents took the family in the car to visit Luxembourg on a beautiful Sunday in the 1970s, we were fortunate enough to waste an hour only stuck in traffic until we had passed the border inspection controls. Even worse were the French at that time. At the 'douanes' what they call customs in French, a group of heavily armed border guards welcomed visitors. Dressed in black, two men inspected the cars, sneaked around the vehicles, and peaked in the windows. Two others held submachine guns in hands, ready to fire any second. As much as I liked France, crossing the border in the 1970s and early 1980s was often horrifying.
The European Economic Community developed into the EU, passed the Schengen Agreement, which became applicable in 1995. One could - as I once did unintentionally in Luxembourg - speed over the border at 100 km/h. Oops! Was there a state border? For a good 20 years, we have the privilege of moving freely around in Europe. We will use this achievement and trust that all people in Europe will appreciate it and not misuse it.
With the boat stationed at the Baltic Sea, we spent numerous vacations in Danish waters such as the Great Belt, the Sound, and Kattegat, the sea link between the Baltic and North-Sea. And here we like to start. Not only because we have to leave the Baltic Sea somewhere, we know this sea area well. An easy task for the first weeks, a warm-up. Heading further north, the Skagerrak will be our first challenge. It contains some of the busiest shipping routes in the world, with vessels from every corner of the globe, and supports an intensive fishing industry. Luckily, the distance between Hirtshals in Denmark to Kristiansand in Norway is only 73 nautical miles, easy to sail in daylight. Once in Norway, we like to proceed slowly to cities like Stavanger and Bergen.
I still like to think about Stavanger today, even if I have not been to the city before. At the age of about ten, a stay with my grandparents was an integral part of my summer vacation. I was allowed to dwell in an attic room with a separate entrance. Here my best friend of the night was waiting for me, an old tube radio, an impressive piece of furniture. On the left, a radio, below a record player, on the right an empty, dimly lit bar, very corny. More than once, I had examined the device, hoping the heavy wooden lid would bang open, and I had the privilege to uncover all its secrets.
Radio reception was best at night. I turned it on, waited until a magical green eye appeared, tuned in to mediumwave, and listened to a Jazz station broadcasting from Stavanger, Norway. When I was lucky, I could receive a station from Aberdeen, Scotland, as well.
So, we like to see Stavanger by yacht, something I never dreamed of in my wildest fantasies, and I have a lot. Bergen, the second-largest city in Norway, is known as the 'city of seven mountains.' Just the fact, Bergen became a bureau city of the Hanseatic League at the end of the 13th century is worth a visit, not to mention its famous quays, a World Heritage Site.
To get used to open waters, we like to set course to the Shetland Islands with its capital Lerwick, a subarctic archipelago located northeast of Great Britain. With the Orkney's only 90 nautical miles south, it's just a day trip to the 'warmth.' Scotland is always worth visiting for its whiskey breweries, breathtaking nature, wildlife, and outdoor activities, to name a few.
In 2003, we sailed straight from A Coruña in Spain to a little town on the Irish east coast called Arklow. The Irish heartily welcomed us. We loved the island, the...
