Fehmarn: take me home

The journey to the Baltic Sea takes a good nine hours and a lot of traffic jams through almost 40 degrees to Fehmarn. For many days, the wind oracles heralded the approaching end of the hottest June in living memory. Strong winds swept the heat away to the east for a whole week. There are more kites hanging in the sky over Fehmarn than baubles on a Christmas tree. The feeling is Christmas-like: very cold – but full of endorphins.

Rabbits hop fearlessly between the car and waving cornfields. Swallows give wind warnings by scratching their belly feathers on blades of grass. Shawn the sheep bleat as they graze on the dykes. The radio warns wind-prone vehicles not to cross exposed bridges. The trees are bending. We are clearly in the right place at the right time.

Our homespot for five days is Gollendorf, opposite the mainland in the south of Fehmarn. There is plenty of space on the dyke and by the water, and a small café to warm up in has been standing just behind the dyke since last year. Parking costs a maximum of four euros. The entrance is via four metres of rough, wobbly dyke reinforcement rocks with nasty gaps down into the water.

Good launch assistants hold the lines up while the kiter climbs into the water. I scrape my foot in a gap on the very first day. Fehmarn is different to the rest of the Baltic Sea. Apart from a few spots, all the dykes are protected by these really stupid rocks for kiters. Lines like to get caught. Otherwise the spot is very fine and harmless except for sheep poo.

I go out in a good 20 knots with the XR4 10m² and make my first turns. The wind is quite demanding and extremely gusty, which is not typical for the Baltic Sea. The whole thing is intensified by the headland of Orth with its buildings, which additionally swirl the westerly wind. The low end is initially 18 knots, soon reaching 24 knots in the middle. After just half an hour, the wind picks up considerably. Gusts are now up to 32 knots. The 10-knot is fully steamed up when I suddenly fall out of the sky with a jolt during a jump.

The kite stalls. It’s immediately clear: a front line has torn. Looping again and again, the kite pulls me downwind through the shallow water. You never stop learning when kiting, even after 20 years. Lesson learnt today: always remember which of the two frontlines your safety is attached to! I don’t know. 50/50 chance. Release. I’m lucky. Kite and bar get stuck on the safety line that didn’t rip. On land, the catcher tells me about his last experience of this kind. Was less lucky. Kite and bar were gone after the release. I check the kite. Lines are okay. One pigtail is torn.

Fehmarn is core country. This is where my kites come from. You don’t see any other brands on some beaches. I bring my kites home for the first time. A cosy little old warehouse lies on the outskirts of Burg. It’s hard to believe that this is the headquarters of one of the world’s largest kite manufacturers. But it is. After 20 minutes, I have new pigtails for my two bars and head back to the water. It’s raining and the wind is picking up again. On the second day, the wind is still blowing mightily with up to 28 knots. Kitesurfing today is like doing pull-ups, interrupted by constant adjusting, but without another line break.

On the third day, we check out Grüner Brink in the north of the island. There’s free parking here. Using the beach costs €2.50, but kiters are supposedly rarely checked. The kite spots are about 300 metres away on foot. The wide sandy beach behind the dunes shines white in the Caribbean sun. The air remains cold, the open sea even colder. We kite in mild waves to the panorama of the ocean liners leaving Puttgaden for Scandinavia. Denmark’s wind turbines and buildings grin on the horizon. For the first time I’m hanging on to the 13.5 XR4 in a mild 18 knots. The range is better than the previous model – but it’s a terribly sluggish elephant. No comparison with the 10 XR or the 13 Ozone Edge. Not my thing, I’m afraid.

The fourth day brings really bad weather with lots of rain and 14 degrees – but by early midday the wind is already blowing with relatively laminar 24 to 30 knots fully onshore on the small sandy beach of Gold over nice little waves. The 7 is really fun, and although the angle to the waves is quite acute in the westerly wind, you can make good use of the kickers from time to time. In the afternoon, I go out again on my own in Gollendorf – but the wind is extremely stubborn again and after just half an hour it’s already so strong that the limit of the 10 is reached. In the evening, I’m freezing in my too-thin summer sleeping bag and three layers of clothing.

On the last day, we drive north to Altenteil. Parking is free and we have the whole wide sandy beach to ourselves. The 15 knots are no longer enough for me after the banging of the last few days. Today I just take pictures, read and relax after a stormy week. Sabine goes out with my ancient giant waveboard – and manages to ride it and run upwind faster than anyone else before. I have fun with every jibe and hum a song.