Interview: Why a 77-year-old woman sails alone on the Baltic Sea in her Nimbus

​After her husband’s death, Renate Weineck wanted to get back out on the water. So she bought a boat, named it ‘Rumtreiber’ – and has been living up to that name on the Baltic Sea ever since.

​At 77, sailing alone on the Baltic Sea – and as a woman, no less: for many, that’s unimaginable. Renate Weineck, however, proves that it can be done. She spends six months on the water every summer, living on her ten-metre-long motorboat, the ‘Rumtreiber’, from late April to mid-October. The former secondary school teacher from Schwalbach am Taunus cruises alone between Wolgast and Sweden, navigates locks without any outside help and has set up a boating lifestyle suited to her needs as a senior citizen. What began as a shared hobby with her husband has, following his death, become her summer home – and a way back to an active life.

In the interview, she talks about the 25 years they spent together at sea, how she found the courage to carry on sailing alone after her husband’s death – and what freedom means to her: being able to decide for herself what she does. Even if that irritates the coastguard.

BOATS: Ms Weineck, what drew you back out onto the water after your husband’s death?

So did you set off again in the boat you were sharing?

We had an Atlantic 38, just under twelve metres long, with an aft cabin. I couldn’t navigate the locks on my own in that. You can’t stand at the helm and work the lines at the same time. So I needed a boat that I could navigate through the locks in on my own. That was the most important criterion for me. I even wrote a letter to *BOOTE* magazine at the time and received recommendations for suitable models in the ten-metre range. The editorial team recommended three different types to me back then.

So what sort of boat did you end up choosing?

A Nimbus was one of the recommendations and my favourite. I took one for a test sail at the boat show in Friedrichshafen – I really liked it, but it was a bit too expensive for my budget. Eventually, I found a second-hand Nimbus 335 in Warnemünde and quickly decided to buy it.

What experience did you have with boats up to that point?

My second husband practically brought a boat with him into the marriage, back in the late 1980s. Before that, I hadn’t had the slightest idea about boating. On our first trip, we took an eight-metre boat with two adults and four children to the inland skippers’ meet in Worms. There, my husband came down with the flu. He steered the boat out of the harbour and said: “Let my sons take the helm – they know what they’re doing. But make sure you keep to the right of the red buoys.” Well, I’m not the sort of person who lets anyone tell me what to do, especially when I’ve got absolutely no idea what I’m doing. So I made up my mind: the next thing I’d do was get a boat licence.

And then you passed all your exams?

Yes, first the inland licence, then the coastal licence, then the certificate of competence for signal pistols and all that. When the new radio sets arrived, we did the radio licence together, as was the custom. We also had a lorry back then, which we used to load the boat onto – an 11-tonne lorry that had been derated to 7.5 tonnes. We drove to Croatia in it during the summer holidays. When we got back, my husband drove onto the lorry weighbridge. We realised it wasn’t 7.5 tonnes, but 9.5 tonnes. So he said, “Well, I’ll just get a lorry driving licence this winter.” Silly as I am, I said, “I’ll do that too.” So I got my lorry driving licence as well. So what was it like for you, being out on the water on your own for the first time? The boat dealer offered to take the boat to my home port of Rüdesheim for me. But I thought to myself: ‘Nah, if I’m going to do it, I’ll drive it myself.’ From Warnemünde to Rüdesheim. On the first stretch across the Baltic Sea, I was able to have a bit of a go – that went brilliantly. Then I sailed down the Elbe–Lübeck Canal from Lübeck – those were the first locks, very small and cosy ones. That gave me a chance to get used to them. Then came the next challenge: the Elbe Side Canal, first the ship lift, then the Uelzen lock – the exact opposite, a huge lock. And all the other locks in the Mittelland Canal and the Rhine-Herne Canal right up to the Rhine. I was able to try out every type of lock. And it all went smoothly.

How on earth do you manage that on your own in the lock?

I have one big advantage: my helm is in the middle, right next to it is a sliding door, and there’s the centre cleat with the line and a boat hook. So I always go to the ladder via the centre cleat. Once the line is secure, I can get on with everything else. Most of the time, I also fetch the stern line. And I have bow and stern thrusters. As a solo sailor, this sort of technical assistance is very handy. It gets tricky when there’s no space on the starboard side, because then I’d have to let go of the helm and walk round the boat. But so far, in situations like that, I’ve always found someone I could moor alongside.

How do people react when you arrive at the harbour on your own?

Mostly surprised. If I have to moor in an awkward harbour, where there might be rings instead of bollards, I’ll sometimes call out: “Hello, could you give me a hand, please?” Why not? They’re happy to help, and then you strike up a conversation. Many people are surprised that I’m travelling on my own at my age. But it always works out somehow.

You’re no longer sailing on the Rhine, but on the Baltic Sea. How did that come about?

Even when I was with my husband, I’d been planning to sail the Baltic Sea again. In the first year with the new boat, I still went on trips in local waters – on the Rhine and its tributaries, and to Holland – because the children or grandchildren wanted to come along. I also had my winter storage in Holland. But then I wanted to explore the Baltic Sea at a leisurely pace. So I sailed back to Lübeck via the canals and, in the first year, went on a trip along the Schleswig-Holstein coast and into the Danish South Sea. Then I thought to myself: going back to Holland for winter storage time and time again is a bit of a faff, so you’ll find a winter storage place up there instead.

How did you come to choose Wolgast?

In Schleswig-Holstein, winter storage in a hall at a boatyard offering a full service was very expensive. I then asked around in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania. At one harbour, someone recommended the BootsCenter Wolgast to me. I was heading towards Poland anyway, so I decided to pop in there. I was having problems with my bow and stern thrusters. They sorted it out really well – a job well done. So I asked about winter storage. Typical Mecklenburgers: “How heavy is the boat? How long? That’ll do!” Ever since then, the “Rumtreiber” has been in winter storage in Wolgast. And where the boat is moored in winter, that’s where I park my car in summer.

What is a typical day like on the ‘Rumtreiber’?

When I’ve got a day’s sailing ahead of me, I like to set off early. Fuel prices play a significant role. I’ve got a semi-planing boat – when I’m sailing in displacement mode at 7 knots, I use about 7 litres an hour. Very economical. But I can also go fast, over 20 knots – then I use at least six times as much fuel, 45 litres an hour. That’s why I try to plan my routes so that I can reach my destination comfortably at a leisurely pace. As long as it’s no more than 100 miles, I can take it slow. If it’s further, I put my foot down. I don’t want to be on the water for more than seven or eight hours. What’s more, I usually arrive at the harbour before the sailors, which has the advantage that I can find a berth without any trouble at all. I’ve got my bike with me and I explore the area. If I like a place, I stay for a few days.

How do you keep the boat in good condition on your own?

That’s the perk of being older: the shipyard in Wolgast takes care of everything. The boat won’t be taken out of the water until I’m no longer there. So I don’t get to see what the hull looks like, and I just write ‘check the hull’ on the order form. Then they tell me whether anything needs doing or not, and everything is documented with photos. And by the time I arrive in the spring, the boat’s already in the water – I think that’s absolutely brilliant. If something on board isn’t working, I can usually work out quickly what the problem is, and then I know what needs doing. But I can’t do it myself. I’m a theorist – I need someone else to handle the practical side.

What sort of sailing trips do you usually go on during the summer months?

At the end of April, I’ll be heading to Wolgast to stow away the boat. Then the trip begins. In the local area, I like to visit harbours such as Krummin, Karlshagen, Stagnieß or Usedom-Stadt. Sometimes I also go to the University Hospital in Greifswald – it actually has a harbour. From Sellin on Rügen, I’ll carry on to Sassnitz and Wiek, then across to Denmark. This year, I’m planning to sail from Sassnitz to Ystad, then up the Swedish east coast and on to Gotland. If the weather’s on my side, I’ll carry on to Stockholm after that.

Do you ever find yourself reaching your limits in the process?

I’d already made it as far as Gothenburg on the west coast of Sweden, but had to turn back in the Kattegat because of the weather. With wind force 5 to 6, you’d normally be stuck on a small archipelago island there for days on end. I then returned via the Danish side – Helsingborg, Copenhagen. Last year I’d planned to visit the Baltic States, but parts of the route are military restricted areas, which would have required a major detour – 200 miles and 20 hours’ sailing time, the last 3 hours of which would have been on the main shipping route to Klaipėda alongside the large vessels – by the end of it, I would have been too tired and unable to concentrate. I didn’t want to put myself through that.

Do you ever come across anything unusual?

Yes! What I enjoy most is when I can say first thing in the morning: ‘Today I’m going wherever I want, and the weather’s on my side.’ Last year I sailed from Møn to Rügen: a Sunday, with the Baltic Sea as smooth as glass and glorious sunshine. I set my course, switched on the autopilot and just checked the AIS to see where the big vessels were. I’d click on them and see: how fast are they going, how fast am I? And where am I? As a mathematician, I can see exactly whether they’re sailing ahead of me or behind me, or whether I need to pick up speed. It worked a treat; I was able to sail the whole way at the same speed and on the same course right through to Hiddensee. Just before the island, the coastguard came up alongside my boat. Over the radio, they said, sounding rather surprised: “There’s a vessel that’s been travelling at the same speed and on the same course the whole time. We just wanted to check whether it really was a pleasure craft.” They were probably testing their surveillance systems. We both had a good laugh.

Do you ever feel scared?

Not really. But then again, I never drop anchor either. My husband and I used to charter sailing boats in the Mediterranean quite often. On several occasions, the anchor got snagged somewhere. But there were always two strong men on board who could pull it free. I’ve also heard from other motorboat owners that they’ve had to abandon their anchor. When I’m out on my own, I’ve no chance of getting it out. That’s why I’ve decided: I don’t drop anchor; I head into any harbour in the evening. There are always plenty of options.

Do you have any advice for others who, like you, have suddenly found themselves on their own?

If it doesn’t hurt too much, carry on going to the club, keep in touch, don’t withdraw completely into yourself. Get out and about. It’s hard at first; you don’t really feel like doing anything else. But you should just try to stay open-minded and remember the good times you had – not just focus on what you no longer have.

Did you find it difficult to sell the old boat?

My husband and I really were a great team. Losing him was very painful. But it was a good thing I sold the old boat; there were simply too many memories attached to it. With the new boat, on the other hand, I had a new challenge. And that independence, that sense of freedom when out on the water – that’s incredibly important to me!

What advice would you give to other prospective boat owners who are thinking of buying a boat in their later years? What should they pay particular attention to?

It’s designed with older people in mind. A centre cleat, bow thruster and stern thruster are all part of the package. But there are other ways to make things more comfortable too. I, for example, have bad knees, so jumping down is out of the question. To get about despite this, I’ve fitted a bowsprit at the front with a ladder. After all, I’m not exactly a spring chicken any more!