Tidal change. Groin work in the Wadden Sea.

In the autumn of 2025, I accompanied a team from the LKN.SH (State Agency for Coastal Protection, National Parks and Marine Conservation of Schleswig-Holstein) out into the mudflats off Pellworm early in the morning. The tide offered a narrow window of opportunity, and as soon as the water receded, a challenging task began that has been part of coastal protection for decades, yet is hardly visible – and rarely appreciated.

The logic of the lug

From a distance, the groyne looks like a simple structure of wood and brushwood, but it serves a clear function: it slows the current, retains sediment, and thus creates the foundation for the land to be maintained at all. Without these inconspicuous networks, the mudflats would look different in many places – more open, rougher, more vulnerable.

Working in the mud

I move with the teams through the mudflats, watching as materials are carried, sorted, and processed. The procedures are well-rehearsed, every step precise, and yet the landscape remains unpredictable. The mudflats present a new challenge with every step. The sounds are muffled except for the occasional hammer blow—just wind, voices, and tools. The work, pure muscle power, is simple but precise.

It follows no grand gesture, but a quiet necessity. Meter by meter, the groyne sections are repaired and reinforced with new fascine material.

Structures in the Wadden Sea

As the groynes thicken, the light changes. Clouds descend low, the sun breaks through, shadows wander across the surface. For a moment, everything seems simultaneously static and in motion: the people, the structure, the mudflats, the sky.

I observe how the work integrates into the landscape, how it becomes part of a system that is constantly changing yet dependent on these interventions. Groynes are not permanent structures, but processes – they arise, decay, and are renewed. Therein lies their strength.

Strength, routine, experience

What particularly impressed me that day was the natural ease with which they worked. No spectacle, no staging. Just professional craftsmanship, years of experience, and an understanding of a landscape that cannot be controlled, but must be guided. The groyne is not a monument, but a tool that functions in rhythm with the tides. And it demands more than meets the eye: strength, endurance, balance, patience. Every meter in the mud is difficult, every movement counts, and none of it can be cut short.

People who know the Wadden Sea

I have great respect for the people who do this work. They do it quietly, without publicity, often under far from comfortable conditions. Their work is understated, but it has a far-reaching impact – on the coast, on the island, on a landscape that would be more vulnerable without these interventions.

A chapter of Tides

This series is part of my long-term project. Tidal changes – North Frisia and the sea, a photo report commissioned by the Sparkassenstiftung Schleswig-Holstein.
The groyne work fits into this as a chapter that shows how closely coastal protection, craftsmanship and responsibility are linked – and how much human perseverance is needed to stabilize a landscape that is constantly reshaped with every tide.