Author: Mate

Friday 16 March

This morning Skipper decided on a tactical departure as I was still being blown onto the quay wall, albeit only in the gusts. They walked me from bollard to bollard back towards the corner I met so rudely on the way in, and then sprang off my stern into the wind until my bow came around into the exit channel. It took time, but avoided any further altercation with the hard stuff, and I was soon bouncing along in 18 knots of wind, a good F5, with occasional proper waves pushing me around. Visibility was poor, the coastline only a hazy impression of darker grey shapes, but we were accompanied for almost all the 13 miles to Hoorn by a small black-headed gull hovering determinedly in our wake.

Somewhere over to the left was Edam, which the crew hope to visit by bus while we sit out the next bout of wintry weather, tucked in to an attractive inner harbour amongst traditional craft and elegant gentlemen’s motor boats (the boats, not necessarily their skippers).

The final half mile to the harbour seemed to be marked by a line of foam, which at sea often indicates a line of shallows, but this whole inland sea is only around three metres below my hull, so Mate was a little puzzled…until we drew closer and I scuffled through my first ever patch of brash ice. Once I was well tied up and tidied, my crew settled down to lunch, inside just before it started to sleet, and then snow.

Thursday 15 March

The morning began in a fairly stiff wind that would have made it difficult to leave the quay wall, so the crew decided to stay here for a second night and explore the village. Marken was established as a small island fishing community.  One January night in 1916, the village was almost destroyed by severe flooding. A causeway was built in the 1950s to link it to the mainland in the Southeast corner of the IJsselmeer.

Small buildings around the harbour, originally fishermen’s family homes, are built of horizontal wooden planks on a brick base. They are painted black with the ‘joins’ picked out in white, a distinctive architectural style even by Holland’s decorative standards.

Behind the harbour is a community of varying ages of homes, a primary school and one small supermarket. The island’s main economy is tourism, and even this early in the season entertains occasional ferry-loads of day trippers from Volendam, across the Markermeer on the mainland. There were also several coaches bringing passengers from Amsterdam to visit the Clog Museum and hunt for souvenirs. One lady cycled by wearing traditional local costume. A small herd of pretty brown goats grazed in a smallholding.

Feeling peckish, my crew finally decided to brave a local delicacy from a street food van, ‘kibbeling’, lightly battered fried fish with a mustardy mayonnaise. This proved delicious, and a relatively cheap lunch snack. They also picked up some lovely fresh tuna to cook for supper.

On returning home, an elderly gentleman hovering around the boat turned out to be the Harbourmaster, who granted us a “special deal” of “only” €32.80 for two nights, one with electricity, but no water, facilities or rubbish disposal available.

The sky remained grey and flat, but the wind gradually dropped during the afternoon, bringing rain after nightfall. Tomorrow we need to move on to a more sheltered spot, ahead of a new lump of sub-zero temperatures and strong winds forecast for the weekend: but at least the sun’s supposed to shine.

Wednesday 14 March 2018

Exactly four months since we arrived in Twellegea Marina, Amsterdam-Noord, my crew slipped the lines just before noon today, and then we stopped again at the bottom of the polder, approximately half a mile away, to top up my diesel tanks. We joined the main channel of the River IJ, heading East, went through the Oranjesluizen locks without incident, and waited for the Schellingwouderbrug to open for us, and another yacht that was heading in towards Amsterdam.

Apart from the air still being cold, it was a perfect Spring day: sunshine with a light breeze. They’re easing us back into cruising gradually, as the mainsail halyard is still attached to the stern end of the boom as a Winter topping lift, and the foresails are still bagged awaiting cleaning and repair. The crew didn’t expect to be able to actually sail to our first destination, Marken in the Gouwzee in the Southwest corner of the IJsselmeer, which is probably the largest paddling pool this side of the Caribbean. For most of the day we had less than three metres of water under our keel, and we’ve joined the dots by following the channel markers all the way here.

We almost completed the day unscathed, but lack of a centreboard coupled with an unexpected crosswind just as we came alongside the town quay in Marken has added another souvenir ding to my aluminium hull. The crew are both rusty and out of practice, but that will soon change.

Thursday 30 November

Late this afternoon, Mate took a bus into town to take advantage of late night shopping for a warm winter coat. This before a rendezvous at Centraal Station with her mother, who had travelled from North Wales by train via London, Eurostar to Brussels and Thalys to Amsterdam. They made their way straight home for warm drinks and hot water bottles.

Sunday 26 – Wednesday 29 November

After a leisurely start to Sunday morning, the bikes were built and the crew set off through the local park to the Jumbo FoodMarkt, a very good local store that is so much more than a supermarket. They managed to dodge the showers and relaxed in my warm and dry saloon in the afternoon.

The next few days were spent pottering with a variety of jobs, preparing the guest cabin for the next visit, and a little more grocery shopping. The weather was less than inspiring.

Tuesday 21 -Saturday 25 November

While I enjoy my Winter rest, my crew are taking advantage of the European rail network to visit some landlocked capital cities. First on the list is Berlin, where they stayed with family friends who made them feel very welcome.

After a seven-hour train journey, they spent Wednesday and Thursday exploring some of the favourite tourist attractions and sites of historical importance, including remains of The Wall, the iconic Brandenburg Gate and the Holocaust Memorial. They enjoyed an Autumn stroll through the Tiergarten and a bracing stretch along the River Spree to view the government buildings of the Bundestag and the Reichstag.

 

On Friday their generous host drove them to historic Potsdam, formerly the home of Prussian royals, and the palaces and gardens of Sanssouci. Just across a lake on the former East/West border they could see the famous Bridge of Spies, and they enjoyed the views of scenic rural Germany.

The return journey was less straightforward and they arrived home two hours late. I was glad to see them, in spite of the cold and dark.

Wednesday 15 – Monday 20 November

The weather continued damp and miserable during Wednesday, so my crew followed the advice of the Harbour Master and snuggled in below in the warm, dry saloon.

After a slow start on Thursday, they made an initial sortie into Amsterdam city centre, first purchasing and charging travel cards (like Oyster in London) from a local newsagent. The bus runs about every ten minutes from early until late, the journey takes about 15 minutes and costs around a Euro to Centraal Station. The station is huge but well signposted, and they soon found the Tourist Information office for a selection of leaflets. The city was busy as it was late night shopping and the ceremony to turn on the Christmas lights; all a bit overwhelming for a still fragile Mate who was glad not to stay too long.

On Friday morning we awoke to sunshine and a clear blue sky, and in flat calm conditions Skipper decided it was the moment to move me into my ‘permanent’ berth. This required a very tight set of manoeuvres in very limited space, turning a series of corners around protruding tenders, bows and anchors of other vessels, before reversing me between two metal posts with only centimetres spare at my bow. As ever, he made it look easy, calmly guiding me into the slot as if he’s been boat handling all his life. Unfortunately, at the last moment we discovered a lack of water under my rudders (at my landward end), and I’m sitting gently on a muddy bottom. Ah well, at least from the water level up I’m providing novelty value for my new neighbours, obviously introducing a little ‘je ne sais quoi’ among the liveaboards.

My crew took the bikes out from their winter store in my granny bars for a brief potter to the local shopping centre, so they’re beginning to find their way around.

Saturday morning was windy and showery, but it didn’t stop my intrepid Skipper digging out the jetwasher to clean the wooden planking around my berth so it’s less slippery when they’re getting on and off. Mate pottered below decks with some household chores.

Sunday and Monday were spent relaxing, reading the guidebook for Berlin, and packing.

Tuesday 14 November

On Tuesday it was finally time to drag ourselves away from a city where we’d soon felt at home and welcome, and turn our sights once again to the next destination – actually the final one for this season’s cruising. We negotiated a couple more bridges, both road and rail, and a lock where we had to pay €3.50 for the lock keeper to let us out, even though the water level had not changed. We had to tie up for lunch to await our pre-booked timed lift of the motorway bridge, the final hurdle before entering the Nordzee Kanal towards Amsterdam. This could have been an alternative route for us, from IJmuiden on the North Sea coast, just 13.5 Miles into the capital city, but we’d have missed so much interesting typical Dutch scenery and some lovely stops along the way.

It was a dull, damp, misty day with very little breeze as we made our way carefully along the starboard bank, keeping a good lookout for frequent huge ships, cruise liners and barges carrying a variety of freight. Playing dodgems with the many (free) passenger ferries shooting to and from Centraal Station in the centre of the city was a heart-in-the-mouth moment for Mate on the helm, but she did glimpse a couple of interesting buildings, and a quick survey in passing City Marina confirmed her suspicions that it would not be attractive or comfortable for a winter berth.

Soon I crossed the channel to the North bank, and found the entrance to Nieuwendam, where I suddenly found myself in tranquil tree-lined waters again. Following the narrowing channel around two sharp bends, I slipped into an interesting alongside berth between a houseboat and the raised bowsprit of a huge traditional Dutch barge. This is Nauticadam Marina at Twellegea Yacht Club – my home for the next few months.

Friday 10 – Monday 13 November

The crew had found me a great spot in central Haarlem, on the River Spaarne, away from land noise like busy roads and railway bridges (which were just around the bend), with just enough passing traffic to stop me feeling lonely while they went off ‘touristing’ this beautiful city: an occasional barge carrying a variety of loads, the odd brave yacht unwilling to call an end to the sailing season, rowers, kayaks and paddleboarders, and a couple of trip boats carrying a few hardy passengers.

We had just about every kind of weather over those few days: windy gusts and flat calms, sunny spells and raging hailstorms. In between showers, my people strolled the city streets, dodging bicycles and soaking up the atmosphere. They visited the Grote Kerk of St Bavo, during a second-hand book sale, which didn’t enhance any sacred atmosphere the church may usually exude. They were able to marvel at the enormous organ that fills the West end of the interior with pipes soaring to the roof. It has known the hands of Mendelssohn, Handel and the ten-year-old Mozart, but was silent during their visit. They wandered through the bustling Saturday market in the main square, and found a selection of interesting shops and the organic street market around the Botermarkt on Friday.

For Mate especially, one of the highlights was a tour of Corrie ten Boom House, now a small and very evocative museum. During the Nazi occupation of Holland during the Second World War, the devout Christian ten Boom family sheltered Jews and worked with the Dutch Resistance to transfer them to places of safety. Corrie’s story is a powerful witness to her faith. The only member of her family to survive a German concentration camp, she wrote a number of books about her life and work, living to celebrate her 91st birthday in 1983.

Thursday 9 November

The Pilot recommends a pleasant bike ride through the National Parks sand dunes West of Haarlem to the beautiful long, clean, sandy beaches of the North Sea coast, and as Mate needs a regular fix of the sea, and the weather forecast threatened wet and windy weather for the coming weekend, today was the day to wiggle Daisy and her brother out from their hidey-hole behind Trevver’s cabin and brush off the cobwebs. The nice lady in the tourist information office had provided a helpful map, and agreed that it was a great route, of around 20km, or so Mate thought she’d said.
Well insulated in particularly fetching winter cycling tights (well padded, I’m told) and multiple layers, and that was just Mate, they set off to find the right road out of town, and were soon enjoying the attractive outskirts of Haarlem and its very smart neighbour, Overveen. Holland is amazingly bike-friendly, with dedicated cycle lanes on every road, and often tracks are completely separated from road traffic, and from pedestrian paths. Drivers are also more tolerant of bikes than is often the case in the UK, and maybe cyclists here are less reckless.

It was a lovely morning, fresh air fragrant with Autumn, and the route sheltered from the Westerly headwind coming off the sea as they approached Bloemendaal aan Zee. It’s easy to see why so many Amsterdamers escape summer weekends here, with many campsites tucked into the dunes.

They treated themselves to coffee on a sunny (glass walled) terrace right on the beach, before continuing South along the shore to the less attractive town of Zandvoort aan Zee, where they chose a dubious ‘street food’ lunch of deep-fried mixed fish with skinny fries and three shades of mayo for Skipper. Mate selected North Sea brown shrimp with a side of cucumber salad, also heavy on the dressing, split with coleslaw…and all for 18€…not the best bargain so far.

Eventually they tracked down the homeward route beside the railway line, which led back through the South side of the Dunes National Park, was completely traffic-free and most enjoyable, at least until the now grey sky started leaking, first a soft mizzle and by the time they were nearly home it was pretty wet. However, it was worth it for a great day’s cycling to the beach – in November!