© Ralf Meyer l Sylt Marketing

The winter nights on Sylt possess a powerful energy , and those who discover them fall in love with their magic. Sylt's storm week (January 18th to 26th) offers ample opportunity to experience the long island nights in all their facets. For the night edition of "Naturally Sylt," we've profiled people who work while everyone else sleeps, photograph the Northern Lights, pamper guests, bake bread, and rescue people in distress at sea. Naturally, we've also taken a look at Sylt's nightlife. The great constant in the Sylt darkness are the five lighthouses , which we present and to which we've assigned the interviews, films, and reports.

© Holm Löffler
In the light cone of the Lister lighthouses 
List-West lighthouse
© Ralf Meyer
  • The white one of the Twin Towers from Ellenbogen is also the northernmost building in Germany. 

The small white lighthouse – the first one you see after passing the toll station at Lister Ellenbogen – perfectly complements the idyllic setting. It can claim a superlative: the 11,3-meter -high tower, with a focal height of 19 meters, is the northernmost building in Germany . And there are two more, which the western tower shares with its counterpart further east: the two Lister lighthouses are the oldest on the west coast and the first in Germany made of cast-iron, bolted plates.

The Lister lighthouses were built in 1857 on the orders of the Danish king , who at that time held sway on Sylt. Their construction was Denmark's response to the numerous stranded merchant ships that the beach wardens in northern Sylt had to report in the mid-19th century. For the waterways around Sylt, not least the Lister Tief (a narrow channel), remain treacherous to this day.

The Twins were commissioned in 1858. Since 1977, these navigational beacons have been remotely controlled – rather unromantically. Adding insult to injury, they are not open to the public. For those with a technical bent, here are a few details: the optics consist of a ground Fresnel lens with a focal length of 280 mm and a height of 85 cm. Each tower is illuminated by two metal halide lamps – one is used at night, while the other serves as a backup.

Thirteen meters higher on the dune stands the east lighthouse. Exactly 2.700 meters of dune landscape lie between the two. This tower, too, was initially simply white, but later received its red band for better identification. It, too, may only be admired from a distance, primarily for nature conservation reasons . And because at its base lies a rather imposing and very private thatched-roof property (see also column), which was much smaller until the 1950s and once served as a lighthouse keeper's home.

The East Light at Lister Ellenbogen
© Holm Loeffler
  • When the noise of the world falls silent.

© Holm Loefller

The only people living on the four-square-kilometer Ellenbogen peninsula, directly opposite the most photographed lighthouse-house complex, are Conni and Thomas Diedrichsen . They love winter with its long, dark, and peaceful Ellenbogen nights, where little more than the glow of the lighthouses breaks the darkness. They are hosts here , looking after nature and the sheep. They are also part of the approximately 40-member owners' association of Listland and volunteer their time.

Conni's father, Petje, bought a building belonging to the " Helgoland Biological Institute " on the Ellenbogen peninsula in the 1960s and turned it into a restaurant. The "young" Diedrichsens have lived in the northernmost part of the island for almost two and a half decades and raised their two sons there. Their nearest local neighbors live ten kilometers away. There hasn't been a restaurant there for a long time. Conni and Thomas Diedrichsen offer vacation apartments in their house, "Uthörn" : Anyone wanting to experience total peace and quiet and the power of the Sylt night will find it here.

  • The challenge of opening the heart to visitors of the Ellenbogen and guests and yet preserving the sensitive natural site, describe the two here.
     

Thomas Bickhardt knows all about endless winter nights on the rough sea. Knowing that he lived for several years as a lighthouse keeper on a 42,5-meter-high cliff on a small island off the west coast of Norway , and worked there for a total of 25 years—entirely of his own volition, fulfilling a lifelong dream in his early thirties—one might have expected a considerable amount more eccentricity from him. But fortunately, that's how expectations work. They're often dismantled, allowing a new perspective to emerge. And letting go of preconceptions is one of Thomas Bickhardt's favorite topics. We were fortunate enough to speak with the Hamburg-based psychologist, photographer, ship mechanic, and bon vivant in the lead-up to his reading during the "Sylt Storm Week . " *

What comes after a life in a lighthouse where even going to the mailbox on stormy days can become an adventure?
Thomas Bickhardt: I now live in Hamburg, very purist, happy, and enthusiastic about city life. I don't need it to be so rough anymore. I carry everything I've experienced within me. My life's dream is different now. Just as a small example, I enjoy meeting people every single day, on walks and in everyday life. With my book "Windstärke 15," I want to encourage people to pursue their own dreams and make them come true—no matter how wild or exotic they may seem.

Do you believe in ghosts at night?
Thomas Blickhardt: Absolutely. There were some there at my lighthouse, in an outbuilding. I'm sure of it. But you don't have to approach them with fear and anxiety. They disappeared at some point after a renovation.

You say you don't miss the life of a lighthouse keeper; that you've simply experienced adventure, danger, magic, and wildness intensely enough. What impressed you about the nights in Norway?
Thomas Blickhardt: You can learn to love the intense darkness of winter in Norway. It envelops and sharpens your perception. And, of course, there were also many epic nights at the lighthouse or when I went out on the boat. With the Northern Lights or the Milky Way in the west. Sometimes, I even enjoyed lying in the dirt in storms, darkness, and bad weather, waiting forever for the right moment to take my photos. That, too, was allowed to change and wouldn't be for me today.

Workplace and former home of Thomas Bickhardt: a 42,5-meter-high cliff with a house and lighthouse in Norway
© Thomas Bickhardt l Bickfoto

With their return from Norway a year ago, they also offer encouragement that even big ideas can change, perhaps leading to something entirely new. Their current mission is a symbol of how even entrenched behavior can be reversed. Not least by becoming aware of the processes involved...

Thomas Bickhardt: That's right. I founded the TILLIT Institute and offer courses to combat seasickness. I also train other therapists to help even more people suffering from seasickness.

Fascinating. One can free oneself from the worst nausea on a rocking sea? How does that work?
Thomas Bickhardt: The brain—in every person—has to switch to seasickness mode to compensate for the movements on the water. This process is very complex and sometimes takes days. During this time, the body reacts with symptoms of seasickness. Those affected sometimes suffer so much that they are truly traumatized. But you can learn to immediately switch to seasickness mode and become seaworthy. In my courses, we become aware of the underlying processes and practice the "seasickness principle" with very specific exercises. Even severely affected professional seafarers can become seaworthy again and continue practicing their profession.

Thomas Bickhardt was a lighthouse keeper in Norway. As part of the Sylt Storm Week, he will read from his book "Windstärke 15."
© Thomas Bickhardt l Bickfoto
I love the strength and peace of the night. If I can't sleep at night, I just get up and do a little work.
Thomas Bickhardt

This is certainly a lengthy process. What is the success rate?
Thomas Bickhardt: 80 percent of course participants are able to leave their seasickness behind forever. The seminar lasts only 4,5 hours.

This issue of this dossier is called "Sylt by Night." So the question is, are you even familiar with Sylt's night?
Thomas Blickhardt: Crazy, but I actually don't know Sylt at all, only the cliché, and I'm therefore very excited about the new experience.

What you have a lot of experience with, however, are very, very long winter nights on an island in northern Norway. Are you afraid of the night?
Thomas Blickhardt: No, not at all. I love the strength and peace of the night. If I can't sleep at night, I just get up and do a little work. Taking the drama out of things and staying relaxed when you can't sleep helps.

You're a traveler. You're fascinated by the psychology underlying travel. You researched it during your studies. What motivates people to travel?
Thomas Blickhardt: There are a variety of reasons, including social ones, but above all the eternal hope that life will be better and easier somewhere else. Interestingly, many people travel only to have their prejudices confirmed. My advice always: Throw away all the travel guides, travel with an open mind, and live without reservations!

You seem to have the gift of being able to let go of even the big things in life…
Thomas Blickhardt: I do like a few things about Buddhism, even though I'm not at all religious. An old Zen saying goes: "If you meet Buddha on the way, kick him in the butt, because then you've gone the wrong way!" Even as a student, I liked the Buddhist principle of not clinging, letting go of things, and overcoming them. This makes it possible to be completely in the moment.

*Thomas Bickhardt will be reading on Tuesday, January 21st, at 18.30:XNUMX pm at “Onkel Johnny`s” on 
Wenningstedt beach from his book “Wind force 15”. Everything about the winter Sylt adventure week

The power of natural forces
© Thomas Bickhardt l Bickfoto
© Ralf Meyer
In the light cone of the Kampen lighthouses 

Few objects in the stark Sylt landscape offer a more striking subject for observation than the Kampen cross-range light. The small tower itself has long since ceased to shine, but is stylishly illuminated from the outside at night. Twelve meters high, octagonal, made of brick, it was commissioned in 1913 and decommissioned in 1974. After its decommissioning, the municipality of Kampen rented its small landmark from the state for ten marks a month, before purchasing it for a relatively small sum and regularly maintaining it with the help of donations.

Despite its squat stature, the small lighthouse exudes pure grandeur. Like its larger counterpart, "Lange Christian" (Long Christian) to the south of the village, this lateral mark served as a navigational aid . Today, it no longer guides sailors, but it does for islanders and their guests. And this is almost more true in a figurative than a geographical sense. The "little one" is an individualistic feature in a village that, in its origins, held a magical attraction for people with individual, vibrant lifestyles.

Cross-mark light in Kampen
© Dominik Täuber
  • There is probably no perspective from which the Kampen cross-mark light has not already been staged.

© Ralf Meyer

Ralf Meyer lives "directly opposite" Kampen. On the mainland. In Neukirchen. His adopted home. The photographer appreciates the peace and unspoiled nature of the North Frisian lowlands, right on the border. From there, he usually knows when it's time to grab his equipment and take the train to Sylt for his "work" in 20 minutes. His own forecasts, based on his extensive weather experience as a former surf instructor, are brilliant. His "prophecies" are complemented by technology. Ralf Meyer knows the best weather and astronomy apps , knows when and where the Northern Lights or the Milky Way are best visible, when to expect the most shooting stars , and when noctilucent ice clouds create a mystical magic in the Sylt night sky.

"I love observing nature—at sea, in the sky, on land. Magical moments when I manage to capture special phenomena. Sometimes, though, I simply keep the images in my heart."

He particularly recommends the northern sections of the beach for night photography. "However, the least light pollution on Sylt can be found at the Hörnum Tetrapods and on the nudist beach in List," says Meyer, who knows the island like the back of his hand. He passionately shares his knowledge, technical skills, and favorite spots: He leads photography enthusiasts and, if needed, also shares his secrets with professional colleagues on how to capture the island's magic. "I only go out with individuals or in small groups," is Meyer's motto for his primarily nighttime tours. Those interested can find out more here:

But now to the Northern lights, which will be intensely visible in the northern sky for the next two years. Then, the magnificent night spectacle, which was particularly popular in autumn 2024, will be over for ten years. Northern lights (or "aurora") occur when electrically charged particles of the solar wind They hit the upper layers of the Earth's atmosphere. There, they stimulate the existing air molecules to glow. The visibility of the aurora is determined by the so-called KP index. The higher the value, the further south the northern lights can be observed. On clear nights, at a strength of KP 5 and above, the northern lights can be seen with the naked eye. Below this value, they can only be seen through the lens of a camera. Here are predictions.
 

Milky Way photography is an art in itself. Astro apps help, and so does Ralf Meyer with his expertise. "At our latitudes, the Milky Way is visible in the south to west during the summer months. Now, you're more likely to find it in the west to north." And then there are the noctilucent clouds , or night-luminous ice clouds (NLC), that inspire Ralf Meyer. "This is a very rare weather phenomenon, a spectacle—sometimes visible on Sylt in June and July, looking north. The noctilucent clouds appear silvery-white, sometimes bluish, on the horizon. They consist of ice crystals, are illuminated by the sun, and reflect the light."

Magical night sky above the "Kaamps 7"
© Ralf Meyer
  • Where darkness reigns, miracles can shine.

At a location like "Kaamps 7" on Kampen's main beach, it's difficult to simply enjoy a casual coffee. It's not that the wooden stilt house with its rounded bay window doesn't offer all kinds of coffee: but the breathtaking natural surroundings somehow transform every drink into a revelation. Host Christina Böckmann focuses on this effect, with a concept that emphasizes the experience and the darkness of a winter night.

"My husband and I love the mountain hut culture. It inspired us."

The small-scale, Kampen-style event now works like this: Those who have signed up for the short night hike will be personally picked up by the innkeeper at "Haus Kliffende." Each guest receives a lantern to illuminate the path through the dunes. Along the way, Christina Böckmann shares fascinating facts about the buildings the group passes, the lateral marker beacon, Kampen, and its people. "No long lectures. It's simply a short walk—spiced up with interesting information," the restaurateur says modestly. Upon arriving at "Kaamps 7," a sumptuous fondue with all sorts of fresh delicacies awaits the guests. "It's wonderful to see how this experience creates a connection between people," Christina Böckmann says, delighted that her idea has been a success.

He would probably win the beauty contest among Sylt's lighthouses , if only for his looks. White with a black band – very few lighthouses worldwide can boast that. Until 1953, "Lange Christian" was still mouse-gray – old postcards attest to this. But of course, he has always possessed elegant proportions. His location between the mudflats and the waves, on a green meadow, is also quite exotic for a lighthouse. The black-and-white Galloway cattle herd at his feet puts the finishing touch on the idyllic scene.

The "Long Christian" tower exudes a meditative energy. At least, that's what those who live within its cone of light year-round and can see it from their gardens attest. Farmer Runkel, the last remaining farmer in the village (he has the best potatoes), lives in the vicinity of the "Long Christian" and is pleased that his robust, black-and-white Galloway cattle breed "matches" the tower so well.

But now to the lighthouse facts: In 1853, the Danish Crown, to which Sylt belonged, ordered the construction of a lighthouse made of Bornhom clinker brick on a higher point on the island, to secure the entrance to the Lister Tief, together with the Lister lighthouses. Even today, the lighthouse bears the monogram of the then Danish King Frederik VII.

The Kampen lighthouse was built for wide visibility on the Geest core of the island, is 40 meters high and belongs to the species Orientation beacon Its original name was “Red Cliff”The technology initially built, a petroleum-powered lighting device, was a revolution at the time and was therefore World Exhibition of Paris 1855 The "Lange Christian" was not put into service until 1856. Unlike today, it was open to visitors in its early years and was one of the top tourist destinations. In 1929, the tower was converted to electric operation, and the light was powered by a light bulb. Like all formerly active beacons, it has been remotely controlled since 1977.

The "Long Christian" in Kampen
© Ralf Meyer
  • A rare find: dreamy snow flurry at the "Langer Christian".

The tower was listed as a historical monument in 1974. A sociable event in the history of the Black and Whites was the celebration of the 150th anniversary in June 2006: The municipality of Kampen held an XXL festival in front of the tower in its honor. At that time, visitors could also win a tour, climb the 159 steps, and enjoy a truly magnificent view.

© Club Rotes Kliff

Things were definitely more glamorous and everything was much better, wilder, and more glittering back then: Sylt suffers in some ways when viewed through rose-tinted glasses, often quite unfairly. Regarding nightlife, however, it can be stated as neutrally as possible that the small northern island did indeed once boast many very special nightlife spots simultaneously, and that, for example, in the 70s and into the early 2000s, it was considerably easier to get home at dawn. Different generations and scenes mingled elegantly in the nightlife hotspots of those decades . Alongside the high-end atmosphere, there was always a charming, village-like feel. This hasn't changed to this day.

And now? Don't panic: You can still have a fantastic time at night on Sylt: The "Club Rotes Kliff" in Kampen is celebrating its 45th anniversary in 2025. "Grandmaster PK," aka Peter Kliem , is still spinning records with undiminished enthusiasm – supported by a group of young DJs. The "Pony" boasts a young management team and an even longer tradition . In Westerland, there are also a dozen lively pubs ( "Alt Berlin," "Irish Pub," "Gatz-Bierbar," "Monkeys Bar," and many more), the chicest hotel bars ( "Hotel Stadt Hamburg," "Miramar" ), and renowned clubs like the "Wunderbar" and the "Provokant . "

Here are a few names to bring a touch of nostalgic disco light to the winter night. We remember: the "KC" - the Kleist Casino, the best queer club ever // full moon nights at the "Bambus Bar" // dancing on the bar at the "Village" or the "Lola" in Kampen (in the village of villages, by the way, closing time was 1 a.m. for a long time) // dancing in the barn at the incredible "Kliffkieker" in Wenningstedt or on the revolving dance floor at the "Tivoli" // the decades spent at the "American," first upstairs and downstairs, then just in the bistro // the truly rustic "Crazy Island Club" // "Tommy's Musikcafé" // dancing at "Salon 1900" in Keitum // "Badezeit" and so many other nightlife spots

But the best is yet to come: On Saturday, January 18th, as part of the "Sylt Storm Week," perhaps the most legendary club will be briefly awakened from its slumber. The "Lila Wunder" (Purple Wonder) is located in the basement of the "Hotel Roth." The "Galaxis" takes the breath away of even the most disco-cosmopolitan. Things kick off at 19 p.m. The latest craze of the urban scene will be celebrated: a party bingo night with the "Bingo Gringos Ben & Max." Tickets are available here (unfortunately, already sold out). But this doesn't have to be the last time the "Galaxis" is awakened.

Midwives, bouncers, police officers, the German Red Cross rescue crew, bakers, the night shift at the North Sea Clinic: Among the dozen or so classic night jobs on a holiday island is that of the porter . Stefan Lakom y belongs to this group. Attentive and impeccably dressed, he stands behind the flower-adorned reception desk at the " Severin*s Resort & Spa " in Keitum from 10:30 p.m. onwards. Except on Mondays and Tuesdays. Those are his days off.

“My goal? To offer that little extra service beyond what our guests can expect,” is how he interprets his task.

What his guests need at night falls only very rarely under the bounds of discretion: preparing the bill for their early morning departure, moving their car to the underground garage, serving a nightcap in the lobby's expansive seating area after the bar has closed. Offering friendly words upon the arrival of night owls – these are the standard procedures. It is less common for medical advice to be sought or even for the emergency services to be called.

Stefan Lakomy is a night porter at the “Severin*s Resort & Spa”
© Imke Wein
Nighttime lobby at Severin's Resort & Spa
© Severins Resort and Spa I Tom Kohler

He's rarely awake all alone at night in the elegant resort, which resembles a Frisian village. Laying his head on the chic bar for a nap – like in a movie scene? That doesn't happen either. Stefan Lakomy has to prepare the back office and the arrivals and departures for the next day. After the restaurants and bar close, he and his colleagues ensure the smooth completion of the daily accounts. In winter, he tends the fireplace and prepares the resort's newsletter for publication the following day. In the early morning hours, a cleaning team ensures the lobby is spotless , and then the breakfast service begins. Stefan Lakomy has compiled a list for his colleagues detailing the specific wishes and needs of each guest. "Around two o'clock, when the resort is quietest, I might watch something like the news during my break. But twiddling my thumbs – that's out of the question for me. And that's a good thing."

Stefan Lakomy's shift begins at 10:30 p.m. and lasts until 7:00 a.m., including meticulous handovers. When he gets home in the morning, he enjoys a leisurely breakfast with his wife, Sonja. As a trained midwife, she knows night work from personal experience. Today, however, she furnishes vacation properties and hotels on Sylt and Mallorca. The couple founded their company , " Einrichtung Lakomy, " together three years ago.

Before Stefan treats himself to some sleep in the morning, the two discuss business matters. Eight hours straight – he rarely manages that. Despite working nights, Lakomy regularly manages to train with his football team from the Danish minority . Switching back to the classic day-night rhythm on his days off would be too stressful for his body. That only makes sense for him during holidays. Stefan Lakomy has thoroughly researched the topic to be prepared for a healthy form of night work. "But the body always wants to return to nighttime sleep. That's true for everyone. The only question is how well you can outsmart it," says Lakomy, who apparently manages this exceptionally well.

© Julia Lund
In the light cone of the Hörnum lighthouse 
In the light cone of the Hörnum lighthouse
© Peter Bender
  • The Hörnum star bathing in the “Magic Forest”.

The Luminosity of the Hörnum Tower, which with its 33 meters height and its position in the village (it stands on a 17 meter high dune) serves the function of landmark like no other on the island. Above all, it serves as a navigational aid and as a marker for the fairway between the southern tip and Amrum.
The “Unique selling point” of the red and white picture-book lighthouse? You can see it several times from March and then throughout the summer visit weekly. If you call the "Hörnum Tourism Service" The ticket sales information even has its own phone line: The desire to enjoy the panoramic view over the island, the mainland, Amrum, Föhr, and even the Halligen islands is evidently immense. The viewing platform with its circular balcony under the lantern provides breathtaking moments.

Until recently, the tower also served as an outdoor wedding venue for the Sylt registry office , with its sixth floor offering a unique perspective for couples who weren't prone to vertigo. At the height of the white stripe, the "first-order lighthouse" has such a respectable diameter that it served as Germany's smallest classroom for the children of Hörnum from 1914 to 1933 – before Hörnum became militarily significant and its size multiplied due to the influx of soldiers and their families . The last lighthouse keeper retired in the 1970s: since 1977, the tower has been managed by the Waterways and Shipping Authority in Tönning. The Hörnum lighthouse is almost identical in design to the towers in Büsum, Pellworm, and Westerheversand.

For real lighthouse nerds here are some lighting details

When Günter Jürgensen sips his first coffee of breakfast and leaves his apartment, Hörnum is fast asleep. Probably only the porter of the Hotel Budersand is still up and about, and perhaps a few sleepless souls. It's two hours past midnight. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later, he strolls down the few meters of dune – depending on the season and the expected rush at Lund Bakery . The lighthouse has been illuminating his way for decades.

“We used to have a few pubs in the village with a real nightlife. ‘Aunt Jens’ was a legend.* There’s not much going on at the harbor when I go to work, except maybe occasionally with the mussel fishermen . I like the peace and quiet. But it’s only a five-minute walk to the bakery,” says the Flensburg native, having chatted extensively by his standards. Günter (“We couldn’t afford the ‘h’ back then”) has been the journeyman baker in Hörnum for four and a half decades . The emphasis is on “the.” Because watching his hands work with ingredients, dough, and ovens is like an art performance . Günter himself doesn’t make a big deal about the whole nocturnal magic that fills the room when he’s working. Spectators in the bakery bother him more than they boost his ego. “I simply love my work ,” he will say, while showing trainee Quinlan how puff pastry is transformed into “Bürgermeister” (“You absolutely must try it! The best piece of cake in the north”).

Günter spends the first hours of the morning alone with himself, the songs on NDR1, the large ovens, the doughs and all the individual work steps that make the organic bread and rolls from baker Lund objects of island-wide desire.

"In the beginning, Jens and I tinkered around until we converted all the recipes to organic quality. Now we're doing it perfectly. But we're happy to keep experimenting."

Says the man with the forearm width reminiscent of the comic strip sailor "Popeye ." "Günter is a godsend," the senior boss, Dieter Lund , might say if he were there. Günter, however, says, "It's the Flensburg employment office's fault." Günter is one of what were once ten siblings in a working-class family in Flensburg. He describes his childhood as "warm, but rustic." After school, he first helped his "father with the horses" before training to be a baker.

Günter Jürgensen – without the h but with a lot of passion for his nightly craft.
© Melina Moersdorf
In the light cone of the Hörnum lighthouse
© Melina Moersdorf

And then, over four decades ago, Hörnum happened to him. He found his calling , his second family, and a home in a place "at the end of nowhere." Günter gets along famously with his son Jens , a master chef with international experience in Michelin-starred restaurants , who constantly refines the quality standards of the bakery, pastry shop, and kitchen. In the case of the two men, this means largely without words. Jens Lund also comes to the bakery every morning. A few hours after Günter, but around the same time as the apprentice, the pastry team, and the other helping hands. This gives him plenty of time to have the magnificent assortment ready for the shop opening. When everything is in its place and the preparations are finished around 10 a.m., Günter calls it a day. He'll stop by again in the evening to check "that all the doughs are rising properly!" He's impossible to slow down anyway. And he's not a particularly good sleeper either.

The death of his wife Gerti last September hasn't necessarily improved his sleep routine. Gerti also worked for the Lunds for decades, in the shop. Günter's son Daniel is also part of the staff: he's a chef. "I have to rediscover myself after Gerti's death," says Günter, defining his mission for 2025. Jens Lund's initial concern that his journeyman might decide to retire in a few years is immediately dispelled by Günter: "I'll definitely continue working part-time. What would I do without my job? Everything's in perfect shape except for my knee." 
As this magazine is published, Günter is facing a real challenge: The Lunds are taking their winter vacation. "Oh, I can manage that. I could renovate my house," is Günter's plan for the holiday weeks. Maybe he'll even get some sleep at night, and in Hörnum, only the lighthouse will be doing its job.

*"Aunt Jens" on Rantumer Straße was one of those quaint phenomena of Sylt's nightlife. The cabaret artist from the queer scene left Hörnum in 2009 and opened a new cabaret-drag show-disco of the same name on Norderney. He died in July 2024 amidst widespread media sympathy.

Everything about Lund Bakery and the philosophy behind it:

 

When you think of "rescue at night," you probably first think of the full-time crew of the sea rescue cruiser "Pidder Lüng" in the port of List. Almost four years ago, a baby from Sylt was even born on board at night because no helicopter could fly.* The crew might share this breathtaking rescue story and much more when the "Pidder Lüng" opens its doors to the public on January 20th at 3:30 pm as part of "Sylt Storm Week."

*More about this true story here

Since our digital dossier on Sylt's nighttime activities has become heavily male-dominated, we looked for a woman in the rescue service and met Melanie Schneider in Hörnum harbor on the "Horst Heiner Kneten" (named after a donor) – the somewhat smaller sea rescue boat of the German Sea Rescue Service (DGzRS) in the southern part of the island. A Sylt native to whom one can take off all the hats in the world.

6 questions for the sea rescuer

I had no idea that the sea rescue boat in Hörnum is staffed exclusively by volunteer rescuers who risk their lives for others. No one is on board all the time. You only come in case of an emergency, right?
Melanie Schneider: Exactly. We're alerted via an app. Since I live in Hörnum and am usually the first one in the harbor, I get everything ready to leave so we can leave as quickly as possible once the boat captain and the colleague from the center of the island arrive.

You're also involved with the volunteer fire department in Hörnum. Does that leave any time for a paid job?
Melanie Schneider: Of course, there's still time! It's all a matter of a well-managed calendar to plan shifts properly. My husband is also a sea rescuer. One of the permanent employees, stationed on Heligoland. He has two weeks on and two weeks off. When he's off, he sometimes does shifts with the German Red Cross (DRK) rescue service on Sylt. Then there are always our training courses, continuing education, and advanced training. But yes: there's still time for vacation. And for normal, everyday things. My full-time job is the opposite of adventurous. I'm a bank clerk and work at Deutsche Bank in Westerland. People in my family like to assume that I was very orderly, even a perfectionist, even as a child. That has to be practiced somehow, and it also benefits me as a rescuer.
 

Melanie Schneider on duty on the sea rescue cruiser “Horst Heiner Kneten”.
© The Sea Rescuers – DGzRS l Kilian Westphal

Everything related to nighttime rescue missions can be found under one roof at your home. It's clear that your decision to serve on the high seas also has something to do with family backgrounds...
Melanie Schneider: That's right. My father went to sea. I was born in Kiel. My father later transferred to Hörnum to work at customs. He was also a volunteer sea rescuer. Thanks to him, I'm also familiar with the night shifts. I went to Hörnum elementary school with a view of the harbor, I love water sports, and I absolutely love swimming in the surf. I've been a member of the Hörnum youth fire brigade since I was ten. There, no one will be surprised if I also hold the position of treasurer, and I always enjoy new specializations. Here in the south of the island, we also have two firefighters who, as paramedics, are the first on the scene in an emergency. Because in Hörnum, it takes a little longer for the ambulance to arrive. I would enjoy that too, but then it might all get a bit much.

Nighttime operation on the “Horst Heiner Kneten”
© The Sea Rescuers – DGzRS

If your sea rescue app sounds an alarm during the day or at night, what kind of missions could be waiting for you?
Melanie Schneider: So, accidents involving ships of all kinds—we naturally work closely with the DGzRS stations in List and Amrum. Or swimmers or water sports enthusiasts in dangerous situations.

Tell us about a real nighttime mission that was quite challenging…
Melanie Schneider: That was last summer, for example. It was already dark. We were alerted because swimmers had gotten into trouble in Rantum. The wind was fierce, and we were barely making any progress. The waves off the southern tip were literally three meters high. It took us an hour, and we hadn't even gotten around the tip yet. Our colleagues from Lister were ahead of us on the west side of Rantum. We had to abort. Luckily, it was a false alarm, and no one was hurt. Once, in the dark, we were called to the east side of Rantum because what were supposedly red rescue rockets had been spotted. There was a strong wind, and we were out for hours with the help of searchlights. A helicopter was also deployed. But we didn't find anyone. Apparently, someone had mistaken the light from the wind turbines for a rescue rocket and raised the alarm. But of course, we'd rather go out too often than let someone drown.

Are you afraid of danger or even death during an operation?
Melanie Schneider: No, I'm not afraid of dying. I almost drowned once while surfing in Tenerife. I dealt with the trauma so that nothing would remain. What I do have, however, is the fear of the death of my loved ones, and I have respect for danger, which I do, of course.

You are a true everyday hero. Thank you for your commitment.

Melanie Schneider is also the public face of the DGzRS, which is funded entirely by donations, and played a role in the Santiano video for the song “Retter”: 

© The Sea Rescuers – DGzRS

In 2023, the DGzRS station in Hörnum recorded three missions, and List recorded 39. In total, 2023 people were rescued from imminent danger by sea rescuers on Sylt in 48. The figures for 2024 will follow in a few weeks. The vast majority of the approximately 1.000 sea rescuers in Germany are volunteers. Only about 180 in the larger, 60-hour units are permanently employed by the DGzRS. In total, the DGzRS maintains around 55 rescue units at 2.000 stations between the island of Borkum in the west and the Pomeranian Bay in the east, carrying out XNUMX missions annually. The German Sea Rescue Association (DGzRS) has its headquarters in Bremen and finances its work exclusively through voluntary donations. www.seenotretter.de

Lots of exciting things Film footage of the Lister Sea Rescuers can be found here.
And to the Hörnum crew here.

3  Appearances

in Hörnum

39  Appearances

in List

48  Persons

freed from imminent danger

1000  Sea rescuers in Germany

Most as volunteers

A woman stands on a wooden walkway, smiling at the camera.
© Nicole Mai
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If you've lived on Sylt for decades, you know every stone along the island's roads personally and are guaranteed to have some connection to the five lighthouses that goes beyond countless walks basking in their glow. "Naturally Sylt" author Imke Wein's best-of-Sylt lighthouse moments are these:

 

Cocktail under the eastern fire

My three children have three fathers. The father of my eldest daughter is Matthias Kraemer, the founder of the "Meerkabarett" (Sea Cabaret). His family owned the Property under the East Light on the elbow. His mother was a woman who would have made an excellent protagonist in a Thomas Mann novel. This very cultured lady also enjoyed celebrating her summer retreat alone in this enormous house in a unique location. Her husband was an architect and, immediately after the war, had realized his dream of a house under the lighthouse with his family, gradually expanding the originally small cottage to the size it still has today. I lived in List at the time and enjoyed visiting Inge Kraemer on summer evenings. 
What a sublime feeling, by the way, to stop at the toll station staff, who still have that stern Frisian look on their faces, and greet them with the words: “I’m visiting the Kraemers.” But that's just a side note. One of my fondest memories of Inge Kraemer is how we sat at night on the bench behind her house, with a finely crafted cocktail in our hands, philosophizing about art and culture and humanity. Timing of the lighthouse was like the heartbeat of our conversation. Even more beautiful: the comfortable silence, this silent agreement between two women. And then the older woman said to the younger woman in the lighthouse light: "Oh, you, enjoy your youth!" Only now, decades later, do I understand the profound meaning of this invitation.

Cocktail and conversation under the Lister Ostfeuer
© Holger Widera
The mantra of “Long Christian”

In one of my previous lives, I was the wife of a circus director. The director of the "Island Circus"Many will remember the colorful summer spectacles Remember, which may return to Sylt in the summer of 2025. At least when we lived at the circus site for two months, a chic, bright red fairground car was our home. It was parked right next to the bike path. The streams of bikers who cycled past our living-bedroom didn't spend much time commenting on the entire magical circus village at my window. Very rarely did I hear something like, "Where do the lions live?" In 99 percent of cases, the cyclists near our flying home fervently reported: “Look, there’s the lighthouse!” The sentence was like a mantra that interrupted my circus life during the day and accompanied me into my sleep at night, and burned into my heart the outstanding magic of the “Tall Christian” in Kampen, which the magic of a circus cannot compete with.
 

Saying "I do" at the Hörnum lighthouse under special conditions.
© Imke Wein
  • Saying “I do” on the lighthouse under special conditions.

"I do" for eternity

I married my circus director in May 2014 at the Hörnum Lighthouse. At the time, we were living with the youth circus project for ten months in Hamburg and two on Sylt. The director was seriously ill then. Terminally ill, to be precise. The Hörnum Lighthouse, with its symbolic power, seemed like the perfect wedding location. He, the children, and I were very carefree on that bright May evening; we always lived with the finiteness of our happiness , not against it. The registrar had apparently only just learned of the unusual circumstances and was so moved that she struggled to compose herself in the small, round room on the umpteenth floor deep inside the lighthouse. It was a "I do" exchanged through tears. In this case, not the tears of the small wedding party. A tragic and yet beautiful moment . There was no big celebration. We had to leave quickly: Our daughter was taking her Abitur (university entrance exams) in Hamburg the next morning. We had our wedding meal at the Burgerschmiede restaurant in Risum-Lindholm. We definitely deserved the award for one of the most unusual lighthouse weddings.