Xander Brett visited the Duhner Wattrennen in Cuxhaven, an idiosyncratic once-a-year venue where horse racing takes place on mudflats in the Elbe estuary
Europe nurtures something of a beach racing network. There’s Ireland’s Laytown, a couple of ‘courses’ in Brittany and three in Spain, one of which – Sanlúcar de Barrameda – staged two three-day meetings over the summer.
That’s before we get to the annual one-day Duhner Wattrennen where, off the coast of northwestern Germany, horses use a surface not of sand but of mud.
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Cuxhaven’s mudflats, revealed when the tide retreats across a vast distance, form part of UNESCO’s Wadden Sea World Heritage Site. It is a site that stretches all the way from the Dutch settlement of Den Helder to the Danish settlement of Varde.
Cuxhaven and its suburb Duhnen, where racing takes place, lies roughly at its centre, on the tip of the Elbe’s estuary.
The azure Mediterranean this isn’t, even with the sun beating down. If it weren’t for a steady stream of cargo ships, it would be hard to make out where mud ends and sea begins. That, though, is partly due to long pools of shallow water formed from sea that’s reluctant to recede.
Luckily, Duhnen isn’t trying to emulate the Côte d’Azur. Instead, it’s a relaxing resort with classic continental northern European qualities. Bakeries sit behind a line of seafront restaurants, where herring is a staple and a cool climate means eating al fresco is by no means guaranteed.
Raceday began with drinks and speeches in the reception of the Strandhotel Duhnen. As assembled dignitaries moved outside, they were met by a curious coalescence of horn players, mascots and costumed riders. It seemed a man dressed as Neptune, god of the sea, was to become a regular presence over the next seven hours or so.
I received a cheery handshake from Jos van der Meer, Duhner Wattrennen’s president, who was keen to point out that his event had all the trappings of a top day out, not least good weather.
“This is a really important event,” confirmed Olaf Lies, Lower Saxony’s minister-president (governor of the state) as we walked to the racecourse flanked by his bodyguards. “It’s one of our most important equine events. This is a town of tourism, industry and sport.”
Behind a dyke stood a line of food stands. A beach of thick sand featured a sectioned-off winner’s enclosure, a VIP bar and collection of seating areas. In front of the beach, on what is often the seabed, sat a right-handed racecourse. Large poles denoted the inside of the track, while metal barriers suggested an outside rail. The tidal island of Neuwerk was included in the backdrop.
With no stalls, Thoroughbreds were to employ a flag start and trotters – who claimed seven of the 11 races – an autostart car. Cuxhaven could afford a long card, punctuated by pony racing, a flypast and a performance to James Bond title songs. As racegoers arrived, the North Sea was already on the horizon and a tractor was depositing sponsorship banners near the finish line.
“It’s hard when the water splashes,” mused a mud-splattered Kevin Braye after riding Night Sky to victory in race four, our first Thoroughbred fixture. “When you’re behind horses, you can barely see anything. It’s my first time riding here, but I’ll be back if I can.”
I found leading trainer Christian von der Recke in the paddock, a grass square behind the dyke on a thoroughfare between trade stands. An apartment block occupied one side of the parade ring and the weighing room’s wooden shed another.
Von der Recke had representation in all but one of the Thoroughbred races, each contest beginning with the ringing of a bell, after a burst of music (often classical). He was successful with Kamino in race six, though his charge picked up only €3,000 in prize-money and had seen off all of two rivals, competing for a total prize fund of just €5,000.
“If snow comes towards you while you’re skiing,” he explained, “you put your head back. It’s the same with horses and kickback. Ideally, you need a horse who has raced on the all-weather. They also need to stay and be up there with the pace.”
Von der Recke suggested that some jockeys were keen to sit beach racing out. If that was the case, they had a ready-made excuse, Krefeld hosting a six-race card at a turf course about 350km away the same day. It was there that the likes of Thore Hammer Hansen, Germany’s champion jockey, were getting their leg-ups.
Back at Cuxhaven, race eight, the third Thoroughbred contest, went to Alina Schubert and her self-trained Tabularasa. “I’ve ridden here plenty of times, but I’ve never won,” she admitted, marching from the weighing room to the winning presentation.
As at many German racecourses, victorious horses were being led through the crowd, wading through sand towards the winner’s enclosure or back to the paddock.
“It’s tough, but I love it,” shared commentator Marvin Schridde with a smile.
Calling all races, Thoroughbred and Standardbred – both for the crowd and followers of a livestream – Schridde certainly had his work cut out. He was using a hand-held microphone and standing at the top of a white-painted wooden podium with a collection of officials.
“The racecourse is a long way from me,” he added, “but that’s no problem because there’s a good picture on my monitor and I’m still young, so I’ve good eyesight!”
Schridde’s job was also no doubt aided by the fact that no Thoroughbred race contained more than seven runners, though distances ranged from 1400m to 2500m. Racecards, which resembled a magazine, were available to pick up free of charge around town, while bets could be placed at a splattering of wooden kiosks.
Naturally, on a sunny Sunday in mid-August, not everyone was in Cuxhaven for a day at the races. Holidaymakers, some with little interest in the odd burst of equine action, moved around the racecourse perimeter while, inside the enclosures, two 20-something-year-old friends said they’d stumbled across the event entirely by chance.
“We were just going to the sea,” confessed one with a laugh, adding that it was the first time she’d been racing.
While the pair said they’d look into visiting again next year – intentionally – a trip to one of Germany’s many conventional courses was not on their future agendas.
The Duhner Wattrennen, like so many of racing’s great idiosyncrasies, isn’t geared towards the sport’s cognoscenti, even if it might net the odd new enthusiast. Instead, it caters to infrequent racegoers eager to celebrate a cherished annual spectacle. They might have a flutter, but they’re there as much for chips and ice cream as a glimpse of passing horses.
When racing ends and the sea rolls back in, they might head home or flood nearby bars. For those staying, tomorrow brings the resumption of beach duties.
A morning at a strandkorb, perhaps (one of the many covered chairs dotted along the beach and, on raceday, enclosures) or crabbing. Always assuming a few crabs managed to escape yesterday’s thundering of hooves, that is.
• Visit the Duhner Wattrennen website
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