Welcome

The Floating Haven – Sleepovers & Gatherings in Cologne's Rheinauhafen

Welcome aboard Schlomo.

Moored beneath the gleaming towers of the Kranhäuser, at the very heart of Cologne's Rheinauhafen, rests Schlomo — a vessel that carries not just passengers, but a story of endurance, truth, and second beginnings.

What was once a forgotten wooden craft, adrift within bureaucracy and deceit, now stands reborn as a floating refuge — open to travelers, friends, and dreamers seeking a place that has truly lived. You may come for a night, a week, or simply a moment of quiet, but you will leave having touched a story still unfolding.

From the deck, the Cathedral rises in silhouette; the harbor hums; the Rhine keeps its slow, ancient rhythm. Here the river, the city, and the story of Schlomo meet.

The Beginning – A Simple Plan Unravelled

When it all began, the idea was ordinary and hopeful: a three‑month renovation to breathe new life into an aging wooden workboat. The plan promised a quick restoration, modest cost, and a solid structure — a vessel "recently in use," as the papers claimed.

But the promise was only skin deep. The boat, once managed under the umbrella of the NLKWN (Niedersächsischer Landesbetrieb für Wasserwirtschaft, Küsten- und Naturschutz), had been represented as "recently in use." Official documents described a vessel seaworthy, functioning, and sound. Fresh paint had been applied not to preserve but to conceal — a cosmetic layer hiding deep decay.

The truth was stark: beneath that surface lay wood so waterlogged it could be carved with a thumbnail, joints swollen and split where the caulking had long dissolved, and beams so brittle they sighed under touch. The few steel bulkheads within, once meant to strengthen her frame, had corroded into paper-thin sheets that flaked apart like old parchment. The fittings were frozen in rust; the deck seams, blackened from moisture, wept salt stains.

What had been sold as a sound vessel was, in truth, a stage set — a performance of normality built upon years of neglect.

The Reconstruction – From Ruin to Rhythm

Once the truth had surfaced, there was no turning back. The paint peeled in heavy curls, revealing a body that had slept too long in ignorance. The wood, once firm, had softened under the slow hand of water; many frames had to be cut out and remade by hand.

We stripped her to her skeleton, exposing ribs that stood fragile against the winter air. Each plank removed was a confession; each joint opened told the story of years lost between budgets and reports.

In their place, new oak and larch timber rose — not to replace the old completely, but to meet it in dialogue. Where sound wood still held, we left it proudly visible; where weakness threatened the form, we strengthened carefully, piece by piece. The line of the hull returned. The new beams met the old with quiet ceremony, and the rhythm of hammers once again echoed through the harbor.

The scent of resin and tar replaced the odor of corrosion. The silence of neglect gave way to the steady hum of creation. It was not a renovation in the ordinary sense — it was an act of reconciliation between what was lost and what refused to disappear.

The Struggle for Truth – Justice Alongside Repair

As the physical work progressed, so too did a different kind of labor: the pursuit of accountability. We could not accept that such deception — carried out under the authority and paperwork of the state — would remain unchallenged.

We began gathering documentation, collecting expert analyses, legal opinions, and maritime assessments. The record grew heavy, as did the cost. What had started as an effort to repair a vessel evolved into a legal and moral endeavor — to hold accountable the government bodies and agents whose negligence and misrepresentation had nearly destroyed her.

The process has proven long and exhausting. It winds through administrative corridors, legal chambers, and the dense silence that institutions often use to outlast patience. But endurance is what Schlomo taught us. Through every delay, every hearing, every technical opinion, her rebirth continues — strengthened, not silenced.

Every euro earned through this project helps sustain both the restoration and the legal proceedings — a dual effort to protect not only one wooden boat but also the integrity of citizen trust itself. To host guests aboard her is to share in that insistence that truth, however costly, must surface.

The Name Schlomo – Wisdom, Peace, and Justice Afloat

In time, the boat found her name: Schlomo — from Shlomo haMelech, King Solomon, the ancient ruler known above all for his wisdom, his balance, and his devotion to peace founded on truth.

Solomon's temple was built not as a façade but as a sanctuary of understanding, raised stone by stone with care and conscience. His wisdom lay not in indifference but in the ability to discern — to see what is hidden from most eyes.

So too with this vessel. Schlomo embodies the search for clarity amid distortion, peace through perseverance, and beauty through integrity. Her story reminds us that wisdom is more often earned than inherited, and that peace built on deception is no peace at all.

Each plank replaced, each seam caulked, each night of labor becomes an echo of that principle: a structure of patience built against the easy tide of indifference.

Why We Host – And Why We Continue

To open Schlomo to visitors is not an act of commerce; it is a continuation of her restoration — a way to keep her spirit, her justice, and her work alive. The income from every stay flows directly into the next round of reconstruction and the ongoing legal struggle for transparency.

We do not set prices by the market. Instead, we offer fair, purpose-based stays: what it costs to maintain her and sustain her cause. For community work, cultural projects, education, and social gatherings, special rates apply — because Schlomo belongs not to privilege but to participation.

Guests come as travelers but leave as witnesses. They carry part of her story with them: the story of a vessel betrayed, reborn, and repurposed for something larger than travel — the insistence that integrity, once found, must be kept afloat.

When you step aboard Schlomo, you step onto solid ground made not of earth, but of conviction. The city hums around you, the river breathes below you, and above all, the quiet proof endures — that truth, even when buried beneath paint and words, can rise again.