Rugen Saturday 24th May

The sun has left a peach haze hanging over the horizon now that we have cleared away the supper things from the cockpit. It is a totally calm evening, Summer warm and silent. Martins circling the water make the only discernable sound and I find time to write. We are in Rugen, a collection of islands and stretches of water almost like vast lakes separating the islands, each having a network of closely buoyed channels to lead from one port to the next. Lying close to the Polish border it includes the largest of all the German islands and the dubious distinction that it was privileged in the Nazi era as the top recreation location where on the East coast still stands a massive complex with heritage listed status representing some of the most striking examples of Third Reich architecture.

Our current port is Wiek about ten miles in from the North entrance. It seems to have two marinas in competion within the same harbour - either way our harbourmaster speaks not one word of any language other than German but overcomes this with a huge smile which is only exceeded by his girth and his wish to do absolutely everything possible to help. Together with Francois and Valerie our French friends whom we met last year, he was on the end of the jetty waving us in and ensuring we did not accidentally go in to the opposition marina. He rarely gets Brits let alone French boats in the harbour but always hoists their respective national flag - however, no French tricolour - he cobbled a Dutch flag such that it hung sideways and so created a long thin tricolour albeit the wrong dimensions. -"Vorsprung Durch technique." ("Progress through technology" for the uninitiated.) Like nearly every town in Rugen, Wiek is a holiday town with immaculate buidings of astonishing colour and delightful gardens in full bloom. The attention to detail in the quality of hard and soft landscaping in roads and public spaces is admirable and probably typical for all I know.

Good fun getting back together with "The French" with their enormous aluminium yacht and amusing to renew our acquaintance with their sailing cat "Pirate," a jet black old timer who travels from port to port and has many a salty tale to tell as he confidently saunters off on his own wherever he lands then comes back when he is ready. He came visiting Talisman yesterday, first a black face peering in through a side window, then taking the air strolling around the decks just to check us out again.

Rugen island is gently wedge shaped, with steep chalk cliffs to the North but in the main is ideal for cycling and I tell you, if you have never tried it, have a go on an electric bicycle. Our friendly harbourmaster gave us four and there can be no better way to see the countryside and get around. They are like magic. I can only say that it felt like cycling downhill all the time and I realise of course, with my engineering background, that is impossible... but - almost effortless.

There are no surprises that at the village of Altekirchen there is an old church - dated from 1185, very quaint and like an old man, interestingly photogenic, some newer parts added over time yet still going strong but I sketched the slighter more recent one in Wiek being more convenient for my early morning wanderings. Both have huge separate wooden bell towers set apart from the church as a result of the originals falling down - a safety feature, I imagine, for the congregation but you wouldn't think it would happen that often, would you?

The forecast consistently carried a full on gale warning for two days solid, it was reasonable to move on South to the city of Stralsund even though the ENE wind would nearly blow in to the harbour albeit across a shortish stretch of water. There are a handful of images I would like to up-blog - by Jupiter! he remarked. Have I just invented a new word or is it that a bit of German word construction creeping in? Anyway, here ends this chapter, except to say that as we sailed out of Wiek harbour we noticed that alongside the sideways Dutch flag, the harbourmaster was flying the Union Jack upside down! - the thought was there.