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.