And the Award of Muppet of the Month goes to....

But first.

At the time of our last blog post we were in Brunsbuttel after a long sail (by our standards) from Dokkum.

After a disturbed night as a result of the early morning inclinations of those rafted next to us, we were “delighted” when the following night a different boat rafted alongside. 

We're not sure how many people were on board this one but, judging from the footsteps too-ing and fro-ing across our deck between 0100 and 0200, a conservative estimate would be about 100.

I confess to getting a little miffed after a while and so plotted my revenge…

Given the time of the multitude’s return to their boat, my guess was that alcohol had been imbibed. This, as some of you may know, can make for a great evening but a less than great morning after.

My dastardly plan was therefore a simple one. Get up early and rap loudly on the coachroof of their boat to announce that we were ready to leave. Etiquette dictates that they must then move away to facilitate this.

I thought my plan had been thwarted when, just as we were ready to leave, one of the female crew of said boat emerged into their cockpit. I knew from the previous day that she was of a smiley disposition and spoke good English, so I announced that we would be ready to leave in 10 minutes. 

The look on her face made my (vindictive) day! Her head, face devoid of smile, simply looked towards me in disbelief before she turned and made her way slowly, and perhaps a little painfully, back inside her boat.

Within a few minutes she had roused the remainder of the crew. They gingerly went about their task and moved their boat away from us with hardly a word spoken. I understand from our Australian friends - now affectionately known to us as the Roos (after their boat, Red Roo) - that they then proceeded to make a bit of a pig's ear of tying up to the pontoon we'd vacated.

Thankfully no harm was done – I wouldn’t wish that on anyone – but clearly justice had prevailed (or am I just a mean spirited, grumpy old whatsit?)!

Leaving Brunsbuttel.

We motored about 25 miles up the canal to its junction with the Gieselau canal. On route, we spotted the backside of Adele...

The backside of Adele on the Kiel Canal!

... passed several ferries...

One of many car ferries on the canal

... and saw a few ships...

A convoy of 4 ships on the canal...

... some of which were quite big

It is possible to moor at the Gieselau lock free of charge (for one night only) in very peaceful surroundings. Ah, bliss! Only 2 other boats moored up that night and you could have heard a pin drop.

Gieselau lock - in the middle of nowhere

The alongside berths at Gieselau. Plenty of room for 3 boats!

Suitably refreshed, the following day we made for the exit from the canal at the Holtenau locks. From there our plan was to cross the Kieler Forde and make for the marina at Laboe.

Once again the wind blew hard against us, peaking at more than 30 knots. This takes the edge off the temperature and our speed, but is otherwise not an issue in the protected confines of the canal. We were concerned that it might be a bit choppy when we left the lock at Holtenau and crossed the Kieler Forde, but reasoned that it wasn’t far to Laboe so we’d go for it regardless.

See? 30+ knots directly against us. I'm not making it up!

The Roos had spent the night near to Rendsberg and, to our surprise (nobody normally motors more slowly than us!) we caught them up as we neared Holtenau. They kindly took some photos of us in the canal, the lock and the Kieler Forde, which I've included in this post.

Catching up with the Roos

Cyclone from Red Roo

Is that really me smiling? Scary!

The lock was notable for the 3 hour wait before we could enter. Thankfully there was somewhere we could tie up comfortably alongside, but delays like this are always frustrating. The reason for it was that the small lock normally used by leisure craft was out of service, so we had to go in with the big boys. The first lock after our arrival was completely filled by 4 ships but fortunately only 2 were scheduled to go into the next one so we could share with them.

Confidence. The feeling you have when you don't really understand the situation!

Cyclone from Red Roo. Not sure I like the name of that ship!

Red Roo in the Kieler Forde

The sea state outside the lock turned out to be fine despite the strong wind (we saw a peak of 39 knots apparent) blowing across it. We found a suitable berth in Laboe without difficulty and there we stayed for 4 nights whilst the wind blew steadfastly and strongly from the east – the direction we wanted to go. Such is life!

On Saturday 6th May we, and quite a few others including the Roos, headed out of Laboe towards Heilingenhafen. The wind had gone from too strong to too feeble to sail, although we did manage 4 or 5 hours of fairly pedestrian sailing when it blew at around 6 knots. Once again, we're grateful to Phil and Maree Roo for the pictures they took of us on route. It's not often that you get photos of your own boat sailing!

We are sailing,

We are sailing,

Stormy waters,

OK. Not exactly. Apologies to Rod Stewart!

Red Roo. Our camera boat!

Red Roo (left) sailing under the bridge to Fehmarn

In the event we decided to bypass Heilingenhafen and head for a nice looking anchorage I'd spotted on the chart on our way over.

Grossenbroder Binnensee has a very narrow south facing entrance and is pretty much a lake with between 2 and 2.5 metres depth throughout. It was therefore easy to find a place to anchor and we could have been on land for all the movement there was on the water.

At anchor in the Grossenbroder Binnensee

View from Cyclone's cockpit

Obligatory sunset picture

So it was a blissfully quiet night then?

Oh no! As dusk arrived, so did the flies. Hundreds of them. They didn't just coat the decks, but the sail cover and sprayhood too! Fortunately they didn't seem interested in us or in coming inside the boat, but all hatches remained closed just in case.

Then, just after we'd gone to bed, the sea monsters arrived. Now I can't tell you exactly what form these monsters took as I wasn't about to go up on deck with all those flies to find out, but I'm pretty sure they were mutant ducks with hob-nailed webbed feet and titanium beaks for pecking flies from our decks and coachroof.

They were not easily intimidated either; completely ignoring the hammering on the inside of the hull that was supposed to scare them away.

So, to the accompaniment of the beasts (and Jo’s laughter at my grumpy frustration) I went to sleep.

The following morning saw us heading for Travemunde, which is about 11 miles north of Lubeck. We wanted to visit Lubeck but decided we'd stay in Travemunde and take the bus the rest of the way for simplicity.

Racing just outside Travemunde

The entrance to Travemunde with its conspicuous tower block

The Passat. One of the last grain ships that raced to Europe from Australia

The car ferries that cross the river

Now, before we could explore Travemunde or visit Lubeck, we had to find a berth. And this is where the title of this post comes in.

Now, give her credit, Jo had had a decent stab at Muppet of the Month when she'd responded to my request to drive Cyclone away from our Grossenbroder Binnensee anchorage by putting her in reverse instead of ahead... But there can only be one winner of this month's MotM award and that, dear reader, is me.

Our first attempt at getting into a box mooring saw us wedged smartly between 2 telegraph poles that the thoughtless architect had placed too close together for Cyclone to fit through (ahem!). Reversing (and shoving on said posts) soon saw us released without damage - Westerly really knew what they were doing when they added those teak rubbing strakes to their boats!

And no, that wasn't what won me the award.

For our next (and final) attempt we selected, with the help of an innocent bystander, a truly massive box that the QE2 would probably fit in. What could possibly go wrong this time?

Well, our stern lines proving to be too short to enable our bow to reach the pontoon for one thing.

But that still wasn't the reason for my award.

No.

Having successfully lassoed each post we were moving slowly forward in neutral when I noticed that the starboard line appeared to be stuck under the boat. Odd, thought I. It even crossed my mind that it might have got caught around the prop. But what did I do?

PUT THE ENGINE IN GEAR, THAT'S WHAT!!

Any numpty knows that the last thing you do with a line in the water is to start the prop turning.

Unsurprisingly, the inevitable happened and the engine stalled as a result of the prop being strangled by the line. Much heaving on ropes enabled an incapacitated Cyclone to tie up temporarily in our berth (many thanks to our innocent bystanders for their help). Much cursing followed that!

A line around the prop can be, to put it mildly, a bit of a problem. It can require a diver to cut the rope away and, in a worst case scenario, cause damage to propshaft, propeller and P bracket.

With every expectation of a cold bath wearing snorkel and flippers, I sawed miserably at the exposed part of the loop of rope. When I cut through one part of the loop, a number of turns immediately spun out, relieving the tension in the line. Encouraged by this, I sat on the back of the boat slowly and methodically unwinding the rope; giving it a tug every now and again in the totally unrealistic hope that it would pull free.

Well, luck was smiling on me. After only a few minutes of unwinding and tugging, the line came free from the prop in its entirety! Lucky or what?!

A quick run up of the engine in forward and reverse gears appears to confirm that all is well (fingers remain crossed on that point).

Another 30 minutes messing about with lines and we were properly secured in our berth. Phew!

Cyclone in her berth at Bobs-Werft, Travemunde

Travemunde is a fishing and seaside town. It didn't take us long to walk around it - particularly as it happened to be cold, windy and threatening to rain. Then it was back to Cyclone for a bit of R&R.

Kids play area on Travemunde beach

Regiment of beach yettis. You have to pay 2.80 euros to even set foot on the beach!

I bet they were pleased when they saw the planning application!

The following day we got the bus from Travemunde to Lubeck, boarding with the correct change for our fares like good people. 3.10 euros each. That's what it said on the timetable and the bus shelter, so I duly brandished 6.20 euros for the 2 of us. The fare was 6.40 euros…

Lubeck is one of the major ports of Germany. On the river Trave, it was the leading city of the Hanseatic League and, because of its extensive Brick Gothic architecture, is listed by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site. The old part of Lübeck is on an island enclosed by the Trave. 

Much of Lubeck was destroyed during World War 2 by the RAF – see picture below from an exhibition in St. Mary’s church – the church with the tallest brickstone vault in the world. 

Lubeck after the 1942 bombing

St Mary's church bells crashed to the ground during a bombing raid in 1942 and were left there as a reminder of the horrors of war (I can think of worse):

St. Mary's church bells

Outside St. Mary's is the Devil's stone. The story goes that the Devil thought St. Mary’s church was going to be a wine bar. He was pleased about this as many souls had already found their way to him after frequenting such establishments, so he helped with the building. Rapid progress was made as a result.

When the Devil found out what the true purpose of the building was to be, however, he got very angry and grabbed hold of a huge boulder to smash the walls. 

However, a bold fellow told him that, if he left the walls alone, they’d build a wine bar in the neighbourhood. This pleased the Devil and so he dropped the boulder beside the wall. That’s Jo and the Devil sitting on the boulder in the picture below. Can you tell which is which?!

Jo and the Devil

Part of the Town Hall (I think)

Hansa Marina Lubeck

A 1936 bucket dredger - originally designed to dredge to 4m but later modified to 8m

The Holsten Gate, built between 1464 and 1478, was the most significant of the late Middle Ages in Germany and became a trade mark of the city.

The Holsten Gate

The other side of the Holsten Gate

Salt Warehouses

The Holsten Gate and Salt Warehouses pictured from St. Peter's Spire

Another view of Lubeck from St. Peter's Spire

I'm not sure what's going on here...

The birthplace of the Nobel Prize Laureat Willy Brandt

St. Jacob’s church dates back to 1334 and is the church of seafarers and sailors. The sinking of the four-masted-barque “Pamir” in 1957 is commemorated here by the Pamir’s salvaged lifeboat. 86 were on board the Pamir. Only 6 survived – 1 of whom survived in this particular craft.

The salvaged Pamir lifeboat...

... and again

The Town Hall

Castle Gate

Having completed our tour of Lubeck, it was back to the boat for some shopping and washing. Oh the glamour!

Now, as an aside, I know that some of you are concerned for Jo's welfare. I thought, therefore, that I'd take a moment to remind you that she's a very lucky girl.

As an example, Jo's hands had been getting very dry from all that washing up she does and so, call me an old softy, I thought it was time I did something about it.

The result is pictured below. A delighted Jo sporting her new rubber gloves.

Jo happily washing up wearing the new gloves I so thoughtfully provided

What a guy!

Tomorrow we plan to head for Wismar which was in the DDR - East Germany - prior to reunification. I wonder if that plan will, er, go to plan...

Thanks for reading.