Borkum, Germany

Last night, just as we were finishing a game of backgammon and then getting ready for bed, another sailboat came into the harbor, and Peter had to go on deck to help her get moored to us, which took about half an hour with the wind and current. Peter reported back that we were not the only ones making awkward docking maneuvers. 

Although the island of Borkum's economy is supported by fishing and fish processing, as our noses revealed to us when we came into port, the main source of income for the island is tourism. A ten minute walk from the visitors' wharf where we are docked are the ferry docks, which come and go from the mainland cities of Emden, Germany and Eemshaven in the Netherlands several times a day. There are trains comprised of colorful cars and little red locomotives that transport ferry passengers the 7.5 kilometers between the dock and the center of the town of Borkum. We went to the ferry dock, not realizing that the train was really only for ferry passengers and was included in their fares, but a man who ocassionally works on the ferries told us we could ride for free because there are no conductors on the trains. So we did!

The immaculately clean train was filled with families and couples from the mainland with their rolling suitcases and daypacks. Slowly and steadily, the train passed through open land until it reached the middle of town. On disembarking, we discovered that the cobble and brick streets before us were lined with shops selling souvenirs, beach paraphernalia, ice cream and other things that we are used to seeing at beach towns on the mid-east coast of the United States.

We stopped in a Lutheran church, lovely and much less richly decorated than the Anglican churches in London and Catholic churches in London and in Belgium we have visited this year. There is no ostentatious show of gold, silver, marble, elaborate carvings, tapestries, memorials, and art work on display. The sanctuary is modest, simple in design and tranquil. 

Lutheran Church in Borkum

We walked past the New Lighthouse, which sits in a small park in the middle of town. When fire destroyed the old lighthouse in 1879, the New Lighthouse was built in record time between May and September to ensure the safety of passing ships. Still considered one of the most important sea lights on the North Sea coast, at 197 feet (60 meters), it is the twenty-fourth tallest traditional lighthouse (building purposely built by authorities as aids to navigation) in the world as well as the third tallest brick lighthouse. It serves as a day marker and a light at night; on clear nights, the light is visible for up to 45 kilometers.

New Lighthouse and gray skies

From the lighthouse (which can be climbed but did not seem worth the effort on this changeable weather day), we strolled past hotels, not yet in full use by summer vacationers, to reach the large promenade and wide beach. In shallow water inside a sandbar, kite surfers and windsurfers were enjoying speeding along the surface of the sea with brisk winds. It was starting to rain, but it was only a drizzle, so we walked along the promenade for a bit and then turned back in towards the downtown area. 

Kite surfers and a windsurfer and two people on the beach

Borkum beach and the lower level of the promenade

We were thinking about lunch when a sudden downpour made us quickly decide to pop into the nearest cafe. The menu was in German only, and the servers spoke no English, so we had to use AI to translate the menu. There were no enticing vegetarian options, so I chose apple kuchen from the display of pastries and Peter opted for an open-faced sandwich with avocado, smoked salmon and rocket. 

Passing more tourist shops, we found an ATM, where we tried to get euros. However, Peter's debit card had expired at the end of May, so it was not possible. (I did not have mine with me.) It matters little since we use credit cards for almost everything. 

Locomotive and train cars in downtown Borkum

Our timing was fortunate; the train was leaving for the ferry dock just about the same time we were ready to return to our boat. On the previous train ride, the windows were open and people were standing outside on the ends of the cars to enjoy the nice weather. However, this day, sunlight has been rare, appearing for 15 minutes to half and hour, to be replaced by gray skies and intermittent rain, sometimes quite heavy and once with thunder. Passengers were inside for the ride to the ferry, most of us with damp jackets and clothing, so the windows fogged up and dampness hung in the air.

The wind has been blowing a lot of the day at about 20-25 knots with gusts up to 40. The boat is rocking all the time, and we are closed in from the cold and humidity. The little heater is running right now to take off the chill. Still, I sit here in fleece and a warm hat, far from being toasty warm.

Tomorrow we leave the dock at 5:30 a.m. to sail for Helgoland, a German island northeast from here toward the coast of Denmark. Unfortunately for them, we will have to rouse the crew on the next boat to let us out.