The location alone is promising. On the underground bridge between Baumwall and Rödingsmarkt, a road sign points the way: to the left lies the fish market, the Landungsbrücken, HafenCity and the Speicherstadt. To the right is the city centre, the town hall and the Alster. Famous Hamburg – just round the corner. To reach the harbour, visitors need only stroll down Rödingsmarkt to the canal, and the Elbe is already lapping at their feet. The ‘Rickmer Rickmers’ is moored there. Behind it, barges bob up and down, whilst freighters call at the terminals.
The location could hardly be more appealing. Here, the Hanseatic city has a distinct taste of the sea air. No wonder that it was in this very neighbourhood that a nautical shopping paradise once sprang up and flourished for decades. For that is exactly what the Rödingsmarkt was: perhaps the most beautiful and lavish sailing mile in the world.
Well over a dozen maritime shops lined the streets between Baumwall, Kajen and Großer Burstah. Yacht suppliers, boat outfitters, sailmakers. Alongside them were various specialist shops selling sailing clothing, rope, varnish, nautical charts, navigation equipment and all manner of gear. Shoppers came from all over Germany. At the Rödingsmarkt, everyone’s eyes lit up. As soon as they stepped out of one shop, they stumbled straight into the next.
There was nothing here that wasn’t available for one’s beloved passion. From anchors to Dyneema halyards, from kerosene lamps to gooseneck knives, from compasses to life jackets, from violin blocks to sou’westers. All backed up by expert nautical advice. Whether you wanted to fit out your yacht or just have a browse – at the Rödingsmarkt, you’d find yourself in seventh heaven for sailing gear.
Customers would pop into the shops in person, where they could smell, look at and feel the coveted goods with their own hands. Their fingers would run over shackles, ropes and boat hooks. At the end of the season, they’d rummage through the crates where the bargains were displayed. Unravelled scraps of canvas, wicks, flags, radar reflectors. There was always time for a natter, too – with the shopkeeper, with other sailors. Some people came just to have a chat. As they left, the shop door jingled.
Boat shops have more or less disappeared
Anyone heading to the Rödingsmarkt today will find none of that left. Or rather: almost none of it. The decline of high street shops has long since set in here too. According to estimates, up to 70,000 retail shops across Germany are said to have closed down over the last ten years. Even among sailors, price comparison websites and search engines now reign supreme. Anyone needing a compass or new antifouling paint simply browses online shops and places an order on the internet. Shopping at the click of a mouse, with a return button and delivery.
Along the Nautical Mile, the boat shops have more or less all disappeared – except for a single sailing shop that has survived and stands its ground, all on its own. Halfway up the street, at number 39, large shop windows gleam, behind which maritime goods are piled high. Oilskins hang there; mannequins wear woollen hats, sou’westers and life jackets. In the display case stand paraffin lamps, flagpoles and radio beacons, draped alongside offshore boots and barometers.
Anyone who presses their nose against the window will realise what a treasure trove lies within. Fenders, lifebuoys and boatswain’s chairs hang from the ceiling. The shelves are stocked with cleats, signal horns, winch handles, boat batteries and wind vanes. At the back of the shop: reels of rope and sheets, the walls lined with shackles, shroud turnbuckles and fittings. A cornucopia of boating gear.
Customers hardly ever experience this feeling anymore. Wandering round the shop. Browsing and discovering at their leisure. Running through their lists for the boat in their minds. Ah, I could really do with that! Ah, this chain claw is just the right size! And then: setting sail in your mind’s eye. That’s exactly what happens when you step into a proper sailing shop like this again. Suddenly, everyday life takes on the flavour of wind and water.
The Last of the Mohicans at Rödingsmarkt
Behind the sales counter, wearing a denim shirt and a blue waistcoat, stands Marko Metzger. The last of his kind at Rödingsmarkt. The 70-year-old says: “We’re a bit like a fossil, the last of our kind.” Above the shop hangs the name of this remaining one-of-a-kind establishment: Yachtausrüstung Hamburg.
Marko Metzger trained as a retail salesman when he was just seventeen. He then worked for various companies in the nautical sector and spent some time in a field sales role. In the early 2000s, the opportunity arose to take over a branch of a sailing shop. Metzger got involved, soon took the shop over on his own and was still able to experience the good times. Thirty years ago, the Rödingsmarkt was booming when it came to sailing.
There were at least 14 maritime shops in the neighbourhood. “The shops complemented one another,” recalls Metzger. “We all knew one another, and everyone got on well. If something was missing, you’d ring a colleague next door or refer the customer elsewhere.”
Thanks to the many sailing shops at the harbour, Hamburg was known not only as a stronghold of shipping, but also as a centre for sailing equipment. “Customers came from all over Europe,” says Metzger. “Scandinavia, the Mediterranean, Poland, Russia.” Some sailors even travelled from South America to buy equipment at the Rödingsmarkt. Metzger: “The nautical mile here was unique; there was probably nothing else like it anywhere else in the world.”
Closed, gone, shut down
Metzger has to think for a moment to list all the shops that have disappeared over the years. One well-known name was Schmeding, the yacht supplier – a true Hamburg institution not far from the Landungsbrücken. The shop was part of the harbour’s character, dating back to the days when the area was still lined with crooked houses, small pubs and general stores. It closed its doors in 2007.
The corner shop Canel, with its view of the Speicherstadt, was also a local institution. After it closed down, an antique dealer took over the premises, but that business has long since gone too. The list goes on: Scheffering Yacht Equipment – gone. Steinmetz & Hehl, specialising in maritime clothing – closed. Gronau & Sohn, founders of the Jeantex brand – a thing of the past. Mörer Yacht Electrics – moved to a different location. Waage Yacht Paints – also closed for a long time now.
The well-known mail-order company A. W. Niemeyer, which used to run a two-storey outlet on Rödingsmarkt, also left the harbour. The company then opened a flagship store in Bahrenfeld, until that too closed its doors in 2023.
Hartmann’s shop was also affected. Founded in Hamburg in 1925, the firm used to supply shipyards on the North Sea and Baltic Sea coasts. The shop on Rödingsmarkt became a treasure trove for skippers who carried out work on their own boats. Grinding machines, sandpaper, plus an inexhaustible range of screws. Hartmann’s bronze and brass parts are likely to be found in hundreds of yachts. Yet even this paradise has vanished from Rödingsmarkt.
Historical artefacts worthy of a museum
Marko Metzger is sitting at the back of his shop’s lounge. A wall clock is ticking; the coffee machine is running. On the wall hangs a picture of sailing ships. As the conversation progresses, he recalls even more shops that have disappeared over time.
Bade & Hornig, a specialist bookshop for nautical charts and literature, merged with another business and moved away. The Hamburg-based ship’s chandler Wilhelm Kelle, founded in 1932 in the Zippelhaus and eventually based just round the corner on Bei den Mühren, is also a thing of the past. “A real character that had always been part of the harbour,” says Metzger. “They had everything, from sack hooks to iron bilge buckets.”
Then, in 2010, the Speicherstadt lost this shop too, which by then resembled a historical artefact worthy of a museum. In the end, tourists would come into the shop and stand in awe amongst the ship’s bells and stock anchors. Following the death of the co-owner, the small retailer was forced to close. The *Hamburger Abendblatt* wrote: “The long-established shop for ship’s fittings was one of the last of its kind – a wistful farewell after 78 years.”
Tough competition from mail-order companies is proving the undoing of many
Customers start turning up at Metzger’s shop as early as mid-morning. They collect goods they’ve ordered, browse the shelves and have a natter with the owner. “Sailors haven’t changed much over the years,” says Metzger. “They’ve always been around, whether from the Alster, the Baltic Sea, the North Sea or the Elbe.”
Even today, many regular customers still visit the shop, including quite a few young people. So it cannot be down to a lack of new customers or a lack of demand that so many of his colleagues have had to give up. Metzger cites other reasons that led to the decline of sailing shops: the market began to change as early as the mid-1980s. Long before the internet, the first companies began mailing yachting equipment to customers. Catalogues were printed and sent to customers across Europe.
“That’s how it all started,” says Marko Metzger. “A cut-throat competition in which some were slashing prices left, right and centre.” Alongside the fierce pressure from mail-order businesses, other factors came into play. Some of the shopkeepers couldn’t find anyone to take over when they wanted – or had to – retire, well into their seventies. Metzger: “Retail is a lot of work; you’ve got a six-day week, and on Sundays the bookkeeping awaits. You’ve got to want to do it.”
Then rents and other costs in Hamburg skyrocketed, which hit retailers particularly hard. By comparison, the large mail-order companies had lower warehousing costs and were able to operate more efficiently. Metzger: “At some point, the smaller players simply can’t keep up.”
But that wasn’t all. DIY stores soon followed suit by setting up nautical departments, where goods were once again available at rock-bottom prices. Finally, the internet and online retail made their mark. Sailors no longer had to go anywhere; they didn’t even have to make a phone call. A few clicks of the mouse were all it took for the boxes containing their new boat shoes to arrive at home. At rock-bottom prices.
“In the end, everything comes together”
Nowadays, digital business is everywhere. Any small business owner who doesn’t get on board has as good as lost. For some sailing shops, further blows followed: competition from abroad, and customers tightening their purse strings after countless crises. And then came: Covid-19.
“In the end, everything is interlinked,” says Marko Metzger. And on top of that, there’s the current political and economic climate, which is creating a gloomy mood everywhere. People are still sailing, mind you – there was even a brief boom during the pandemic. But none of this is doing the small shops much good. “All in all, too many factors have come together; very few in the retail sector are managing to survive,” explains Metzger.
“It doesn’t feel good,” says the boss, even though, as the last remaining shopkeeper on Rödingsmarkt, he can’t really complain. Metzger has three permanent staff, with temporary staff joining them during the busy season. However, he no longer has any contact with the other shops on Rödingsmarkt. “They’ve got nothing to do with sailing and water sports anymore; there’s simply no common ground.”
Metzger, however, wants to carry on. He’s attached to his shop and feels a sense of responsibility to keep one of the few remaining sailing shops in business. Many of his customers would be disappointed if he were to give up too. Gradually, though, he’s starting to look for a successor. “I could well imagine a smooth handover. After all, you have to get to know a shop like this first.”
Sailors can only hope that this will be the case. Proper yacht shops have become an absolute rarity. Not just in Hamburg’s Rödingsmarkt, but also along the coasts and in the rest of the country. When the last ones go, the lights go out. No more fragrant teak, no more shackles in the display cases, no more dolls in blue troyer jumpers. All that remains is the screen. But it doesn’t smell of the sea.
