A HOLIDAY CRUISE WITH MS VICTORIA REGINA
By AI-ChatGPT4o-T.Chr.-Human Synthesis- 29 January 2025
There’s something about setting out to sea that never loses its magic. The anticipation, the open horizon, and the knowledge that each journey becomes its own story.
This time, I was at the helm of ms Victoria Regina, my sturdy 45-foot steel motor yacht, ready to take her south from Norway through the Kiel Canal and into the unique world of the Frisian Islands. The plan was loose—no strict schedules, just the freedom to explore at my own pace, guided by the tides, the weather, and my own instincts.
Through the Kiel Canal and a Stopover in Cuxhaven
The North Sea crossing was familiar yet always humbling. Even in calm weather, there was a certain weight to the grey waters stretching endlessly around me. But Victoria Regina handled it beautifully, her steel hull cutting through the waves with reassuring steadiness. As I approached the entrance to the Kiel Canal, I couldn’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction—this was a route I had taken before, yet it always felt like the start of something new.
The canal itself was a world apart from the restless sea. Lined with lush greenery and dotted with small villages, it offered a kind of tranquility rarely found on open waters. Large cargo ships passed in slow procession, their massive hulls towering over Victoria Regina, yet here, among the steady hum of industry, there was an unspoken camaraderie between sailors of all kinds.
A brief stopover in Cuxhaven.
Instead of pressing on directly to the Frisian Islands, I decided to break the journey with a stopover in Cuxhaven, right at the seaward end of the Elbe. It was a town with a strong maritime soul, a place where fishermen, ferry crews, and deep-sea sailors all crossed paths. Tying up at the marina, I took my time wandering the waterfront, watching the constant movement of ships heading upriver to Hamburg or out toward the open sea. The scent of salt and diesel filled the air, mixing with the inviting aroma of fresh seafood from the harborside restaurants. That evening, over a plate of North Sea shrimp and a cold beer, I listened to the chatter of fellow sailors exchanging stories, feeling at home among them.
A Few Days in Norderney
The next leg of the journey took me westward, following the intricate channels that wove between the German Frisian Islands. It was a landscape unlike any other—vast tidal flats appearing and disappearing with the rhythms of the sea, long sandbanks where seals basked in the sun, and lighthouses standing as lonely sentinels over the ever-shifting waters.
My destination was Norderney, one of the livelier islands in the chain. Arriving in the sheltered harbor, I immediately felt the difference—a blend of relaxed holidaymakers and seasoned islanders, all moving at the easy pace dictated by the tides. I decided to stay a couple of days, giving myself time to soak in the island’s unique character.
The town was charming, with its historic buildings and inviting cafés, but the true beauty of Norderney lay beyond. I spent long hours walking the endless beaches, feeling the sand shift beneath my feet and the wind whip through my hair. The sky stretched impossibly wide, the horizon merging into the sea in a way that made the world feel boundless. Out in the shallows, kitesurfers danced across the waves, their colorful sails stark against the pale sky.
One evening, I climbed the dunes and sat in silence as the sun dipped low, painting the water in shades of orange and violet. It was moments like these—alone with the sea, with nothing but the whisper of the wind and the distant cries of gulls—that reminded me why I had chosen this life.
Exploring Borkum
From Norderney, Victoria Regina carried me onward to Borkum, the westernmost of the German Frisian Islands. The approach was trickier, with shifting sandbanks and strong currents demanding careful navigation. But as I entered the harbor and tied up, I felt an immediate sense of adventure—Borkum was wilder, less polished than Norderney, with a rugged beauty that spoke directly to my seafaring soul.
I gave myself a few days here, eager to explore. The island had a fascinating mix of landscapes—open dunes, dense patches of heather, and long, desolate beaches where the only footprints were my own. Renting a bicycle, I rode along the quiet paths, passing grazing horses and the occasional weathered farmhouse. At the western end of the island, I found an old lighthouse standing tall against the wind, its red-and-white stripes a bold contrast to the muted tones of sea and sand.
Borkum had a history, too—traces of its past as a naval base still lingered, with old bunkers hidden among the dunes. But despite its past, the island felt timeless, a place where nature ruled and the sea dictated the rhythm of life.
A Surprise in Cuxhaven
After my time on Borkum, I set a direct course back to Cuxhaven, this time planning to stay longer. A week in port sounded like a luxury—a chance to unwind, enjoy the town, and soak in the maritime atmosphere at a slower pace. What I didn’t expect was to stumble upon something that would change everything.
Walking along the docks one afternoon, my eyes caught something sleek, something different. Moored among the more typical vessels was a 60-foot motor yacht, her aluminium hull reflecting the sunlight like a blade. She was elegant, fast, built for serious cruising—everything I had ever dreamed of in a yacht.
Curious, I struck up a conversation with the owner. The more I learned about her, the more I knew—this was meant to be. Over the next few days, negotiations began. It was a dance of numbers and details, but in the end, a deal was struck. The yacht would be mine, and I would return at Christmastime to collect her.
The realization settled over me slowly. What had started as a simple holiday cruise had turned into something much bigger—a new chapter, an unexpected twist in my lifelong journey at sea.
Homeward Bound
With the deal settled and Victoria Regina still my faithful companion, I set course back through the Kiel Canal and out into the North Sea, bound for Norway. The return trip gave me time to reflect—not just on the beauty of the Frisian Islands or the quiet charm of Cuxhaven, but on the way the sea always seemed to have a plan of its own.
As the Norwegian coastline emerged on the horizon, I felt a familiar mix of emotions—the satisfaction of a journey well made, the excitement of what lay ahead, and the deep, abiding love for the sea that had carried me through a lifetime.
This journey was ending, but another was just beginning. The sea had given me something unexpected, and soon, I would return to claim it. But for now, Victoria Regina and I had shared another unforgettable voyage—one more chapter in a story that was far from over….
The history about the collection of ms Eight Bells will follow later …
The End.
