The Danube by Boat

I have taken three significant boat trips in my life, although it is only the most recent that really made me fall in love with life on the water. The first trip was on a 50ft yacht, sailing from Rhodes to Marmaris; the second a Scandinavian ferry – more like a cruise ship – traveling between Helsinki, Stockholm and Tallin; and the latest was a 5-week journey along the Danube in a refurbished barge.

Danube view from my porthole

There is something inherently thrilling about arriving in a new town by boat. The sense of perspective is  different, and your orientation to that place develops in relation to the water — and, of course, you get to see a strange and wonderful side of the world. Traveling by boat is likely to be a leisurely affair, being on the water you really feel the mass and velocity of the craft you are in as you watch the displaced water surge as the bow pushes through it, and the foam spraying behind the stern. I also love industrial landscapes, in particular working docks, and having the chance to sleep in the oil harbour at Karlsruhe, for instance, is something that would never happen in the course of normal travel and events.

Taking part in the European Sound Delta, a mobile radio art project, meant that I was able to fulfill my dream of traveling by barge along the Danube. The whole trip took three months, navigating the length of the Danube from the delta at the Black Sea to the south of Germany, where we headed across the canals to join a second boat traveling along the Rhine towards Strasbourg. Part audio cruise, part floating party, part nomadic sound art family, the trip was an extraordinary mix of intensity and relaxation.

First things first – find the boat

Our boat: a 1956 Freycinet barge

I joined the boat in Bratislava, and after a flurry of international phone calls manage to locate my contacts on the street outside the Danube Hotel. The organisation is very strategic once you realise the constraints, never knowing how long the journey will take each day, hence where or when you will arrive, making it a challenge for new artists to find the boat. Vince, Fred, Sabrina and I head to the nearest cafe and they arrange for another team member to pick me up in the car, so I am driven out to Bratislava’s industrial port, through rambling wastelands of overgrown grass and rusting hulls, with a fantastically decaying atmosphere, until we reach the docks.

Here I learn my first rule of river travel, that you can moor yourself to another barge, and have right-of-way to access your boat by walking across the decks of the other vessels until you reach the shore. The rickety ladder and narrow walkway along the edge of the port are the most challenging part of this first trip for me, looking down at the oily water between the boats, it’s not so far to fall but very tricky to get back out once you’re down there.

I walk downstairs and into an atmosphere of happy chaos, the walls are dotted with posters from concerts earlier in the trip – Belgrade, Russe – computers and cables are everywhere. Vince shows me to my cabin, a bunk bed – I haven’t slept in one since I was a teenager, I choose the top which has a fabulous view of the changing landscape and morning sun.

Leaving at 6am next morning, I join the others on deck eagerly photographing the industrial area as we leave port and new developments bursting out along the river. It takes 12 hours to navigate the 100km to Vienna, and is a very relaxing day as I settle into the pace of life on board – taking turns in the hammock, alternating between the sunshine on deck and the cool below in the cabins and studio area. I quickly learn the second rule of life on the water, which is that anything can happen and nothing is certain, so it’s best to stay flexible and keep your sense of humour. We might make it to Vienna tonight, we may not – our trip depends on the current, which since we’re going upstream can drastically affect our speed and hence travel time, sometimes we only make 4-5 km an hour, although later on we hit 10km p/hr.

Who are these boat-loving people?

The French team who organised the event are a convivial bunch, as are most of the artists who join us, and I highly appreciate traveling with people who are so dedicated to eating and drinking. There is always a huge pot of fresh coffee in the morning, topped up regularly, and either the chef, or later anyone who decides to is in charge of making sumptuous meals, accompanied by plenty of wine and usually finished with assorted cheese.

A convivial bunch...

I go through my first lock as we head into Vienna, and remain fascinated by them still. As the machines whir and creak, the gates are closed and water rushes in – or out – and you magically rise or fall to the level of the next part of the river.

One group of artists has chosen to locks to as their source material and site for creating sound works, and when they were on board we were mesmerised by the strange blend of squealing machinery, sirens, radio feedback, vocal improvisation and electronics, in a series of performances.

These take place in a series of particularly magnificent locks between Reggensberg and Nurnberg. Apparently the largest in Europe, their depth starting at 15m for the first few, and then towering to 24.6 metres high.

It’s a little scary the first time, the unforgiving concrete rises above us like the walls of a coffin, only a thin strip of sky visible at the top, and they take thirty minutes to fill, creating a strange sense of time, suspended in their cold embrace.

In Vienna, collecting sounds

We spend a few days running around in Vienna, collecting sounds and generally enjoying the thrill of being on shore before our next longer trip to Linz. The day we’re set to leave becomes an exercise in frustration, lesson number three in negotiating life on the water. After starting at 6am, the captain circles up and down for hours, trying to find a place to fill up the tank. We eventually dock at the tanker, only to be told that it is for commercial vessels only, and refused service.

A little of Aljosa’s charm and German makes the situation clear and they relent, only to keep us waiting there for 5 hours, just off the bank in the centre of Vienna, unable to do anything or leave the boat. After the entire day in limbo, we get re-fuelled then navigate to the other side of town and dock for the night. There is no electricity, as the power in the battery is recharged by the motor while the boat is moving, so we eat by candlelight and I go to bed early.

Going through the Danube locks

The next day is glorious, it’s a thrill simply to be moving again, and through some of the most beautiful countryside in Austria. We pass through Krems, and other hillside towns, each one more picturesque than the last. The trip is joyous today, after lunch someone sets up the sound system on deck, and everyone spontaneously starts dancing.

The afternoon turns into an impromptu rave, floating through gorgeous scenery and enjoying the company of a mix of people on board that lets this dancing frenzy take hold, and we also celebrate passing the 2,000km mark from the Delta in the Black Sea.

The flooding incident

Linz is memorable for the flooding incident, as I return from an Ars Electronica event to find Eve and Vince proudly demonstrating the pump they have located and installed. The boat had developed an uneven keel, although it doesn’t appear to be sinking, and after a few hours they surmised that the trouble is with the water tanks, which had just been filled when we arrived before the captain left for some much needed home leave. You quickly realise in this situation how thoroughly dependent you are on the structure that is holding you. Water is a force to respect. At one of the locks, the captain comes downstairs to find a cup of sugar for a Romanian boat crew next to us on the water; everyone is part of the same water-borne community.

After Nurnberg the lock artists leave and we have a relatively quiet week, navigating high in the mountains and coming back down through all the locks on the other side. We drift through endless forests, people camping and fishing along the banks, then start to see increasing industry as we approach Frankfurt.

Some nights we anchor on the side of the river not close enough to get to shore, and then there is nothing to do but lie up on the roof of the boat, talking, drinking and looking at the stars. There is a lost-at-sea enchantment for me in those evenings.

Finding a place to dock is an ongoing concern, there are local contacts who can help in some places, where we get a prime spot on a pontoon or marina in the centre of town, other nights we stop by a factory wall, and one time in Karlsruhe at the oil harbour, which is eerily magnificent. I stay up late watching the lights of the refineries reflected in the water, the big commercial tanker barges come and go all night to refill.

I take the wheel

Our boat is a 1956 Freycinet barge, the standard lock size of the time, named after the engineer who developed the measurements. It is a common enough site on the canals in northern Europe, although very unusual to see one moving through the stronger currents of the Danube and Rhine rivers. The longest part of the trip is between Linz and Mainz, which takes 12 days only stopping in one place for a night, and leaving early next morning. With cold showers, no internet, and variable small town pubs for entertainment, we all go a little crazy the night we get to Mainz.

Jodi at the wheel

The captain has been joking for some time now that I will be helping him drive the boat, and this turns out to be no idle threat. We had a pilot on board during the Danube navigation, as required, but now everyone has a role to play. Phil is the expert at doing the ropes, on the locks and when we moor, his agile frame leaps easily across the gap to shore as we dock. I find myself enchanted by the process of steering, and become addicted to driving the boat. The first few hours are a little scary, as I keep over-correcting and we veer along in a kind of fish-tail pattern, the captain jokes will make the other boats think I’m drunk at the wheel. Once I come back to the wheel house in the afternoon for a second try, I find the lighter touch needed to keep to a steady course, and learn not to over-compensate when changing direction. Each slight shift to the wheel takes a minute or so to register, and once you see the prow of the boat start to swing around, it’s time to spin it back the opposite way, which somehow keeps you going straight.

I start to really enjoy being at the wheel, the subtle – and sometimes very strong – pull of the current, the way that you have to line the prow of the boat up to the next buoy or the boat in front, and while heading in that direction, make hundreds of small changes to stay on course. Learning to pass other barges, the blue flag meaning we stay on the opposite side to usual, which depends on the flow, and since we’re going upstream, left is right and right is left. I find this combination of intense focus and slightly dreamy mental space incredibly meditative, and wake up next morning eager to do it again, bursting with enthusiasm for this new thrill in a way that I haven’t felt for a long time.

The final weekend of the trip we spend in Strasbourg, I soak up every moment possible on board, watching the lights change and the ducks swim past through our kitchen windows. The cabins fill up again, people come and go, and I find the whole experience strangely addictive. I desperately want my own houseboat now, and find that coming ashore I have a swaying feeling beneath my feet, and very shaky balance for the first few days back on dry land.

What I remember most is the sense of shared adventure, and finally understanding that to keep to a steady course in life, it really is necessary to go with the flow. When you let go of the need to be in control, can adapt to the subtle shifts and changes in direction at every moment, and trust that no matter what happens along the way, you will get where you’re going in the end, then you truly have adapted to boat life.

-Jodi Rose

Planning a trip? Brwose Viator’s Vienna tours & things to do, including a Danube Valley day trip from Vienna and other Vienna Danube cruises. If you need a place to stay, check out Hotels in Vienna on Planetware.com.