Waiting for the convoy

OK, this is a bit weird. We're moored up on a canal in central Amsterdam, rafted three deep, and waiting for the night convoy to start sometime after 1am. There are about 50 possible wireless connection of which only one is insecure, and here I am.

The first bridge is the key one, a massive rail bridge with six counterweights. I can't believe it opens. On the Broads the rail bridges sometimes get stuck and don't open for days. That would never happen in the Netherlands.

Thank goodness it's a beautiful night, warm, very little wind and pretty pleasant. The only thing to worry about now is what happens at the other end - where do we go at 4am on the Nieuwe Meer? There are loads of marinas, most just about deep enogh for us, but how do we find them in the dark? Or given that the Nieuwe Meer is just before Schipol, will the glow in the sky be enough to see by?

Amsterdam at night....?

Our plan is to head down to the Delta on the standing mast route. This includes something which Sam has always wanted to do, going through Amsterdam in the midnight convoy because there are two rail bridges which only open once a night. The advantage of heading south is that the route back to the Orwell from Vlissingen, say, could mean a reasonable beam reach into a south-westerly, instead of being on the nose from Den Helder or painfully close-hauled from Ijmuiden. And we've had nothing but south-westerlies for weeks.

From Hindeloopen we headed to Stavoren, only five miles in a straight line but 10 beating into the south-westerly. Then on Monday back to the sheltered side of the Ijsselmeer, motoring in a calm to Enkhuizen, and on Tuesday close-hauled (with Ben complaining loudly about all the stuff falling on his head when we heeled to 30 degrees) down to Monnickendam, only 15km in a straight line from Amsterdam but rather further by water as it's tucked into a very sheltered spot behind the Marken island dam.

Here we faced a dilemma. A serious depression is crossing to the north of us bringing several hours of strong winds. It was due to hit around 3am onwards on Thursday, which meant that if we followed the original plan, just as we reached the end of the night transit through Amsterdam and emerged on to the pitch black Nieuwe Meer we would be hit by gusts up to 30 knots and pouring rain. The prospect was pretty awful but the risk was that if we stayed in Monnickendam, with the strong winds continuing into Thursday, we would be delayed two days because the south-westerlies would be too strong in the very shallow Markermeer. In the end we decided to stay. The wind arrived at 5am this morning, so we might have been OK, and the forecast is for F7 until this evening so we will lose another night here. Who knows, perhaps we should have done it differently.

Monnickendam is very sweet. On our first morning the havenmeester brought us three fruity buns with butter in a little basket, with the compliments of the marina. It's very much a holiday place, with slides, trampolines, boules, and free rowing boats which you can borrow to take you into town. For the first time on this trip we have used the folding bicycle and launched the inflatable kayak which has been great fun, making the most of the sticky, calm day we had yesterday.

Unlike the huge marinas in Stavoren and Hindeloopen there are some modest yachts here and when the wind gusts it howls less than usual because there are fewer yachts with in-mast reefing (the slot in the mast reverberates in strong winds). The downside is that in this very sheltered freshwater harbour there are zillions of mosquitoes, and they are all biting me.

Anyway, we still have 10 days before we absolutely have to be home...

Hindeloopen

We finally left Medemblik this morning with a forecast of W4-5, decreasing to SW3-4 this evening. The forecast was just about accurate and as expected the Ijsselmeer got choppier the further west we headed (with more room for the waves to build up). Once again we were sailing with just the foresail, with quite a few rolls in it, and even that was really more than enough. The water was a particularly repellent shade of slime green and the waves were probably no more than ½ metre, but that's pretty uncomfortable when there's only 2m of water beneath your keel.

Last time we were out on the Ijsselmeer in similar conditions (probably, in retrospect, lighter winds but a similar bumpy sea) we were in a chartered Van de Stadt 27 and Guy was about 16 months old. We sailed from Lemmer to Stavoren and I ended up in a quivering heap on the floor of the saloon clutching Guy and convinced we were going to die. I think I've made a bit of progress since then. When we came to Friesland two years later in our 16ft Winkle Brig and both boys, we didn't even venture out on to the Ijsselmeer but stuck to the Friesian lakes, which seems very wise in retrospect.

This time everything was fine until we approached land – the marina here is not very sheltered from westerlies and Kalessin's modest engine and prop don't do her any favours when making tight turns in a force 5. Mooring up at the reception pontoon, then turning again and heading for our allocated berth, involved lots of screeching (by me) and revving (by the engine). I think it was perfectly reasonable to complain that when Sam says “head up there”, I can't tell where “there” is, because I am squatted down by the throttle control. He says I should know. This is a man who, when things get tough, shouts “pull that rope”. Honestly, sailors have spent hundreds of years evolving names for ropes, why not use them?

Anyway Hindeloopen is very sweet, our first visit to Friesland for many years (Sam has just found the Friesian courtesy flag we bought when we were here in the Winkle Brig in 1993), and the wind is at last (6pm) easing off a bit. Sam has found a replacement pair of sunglasses and a useful spanner for dismantling the diverter valve (loo repair attempt no. 3) in the chandlery. There are even more Germans here than there were in Medemblik and we've only seen one British yacht since Amsterdam. I thought lots of Brits came up here, where are they all?

Ijsselmeer

We left Amsterdam on Monday after several days of waiting for a forecast which didn't have a force 7 in it. Winds are generally a force or two less in the inland lakes than out in the North Sea, but both the Markermeer (the southern bit of the Ijsselmeer) and the Ijsselmeer itself are extremely shallow (3-5 metres) and a strong wind can whip up an unpleasant chop.

In the end we sailed all the way to Hoorn with just the foresail up, and three or four rolls in it. It was a great sail except that, as in the French canals, we had to get used to only having 1m of water under the keel and not panicking.

Almost all the towns around the Ijsselmeer have hundreds of years of interesting history and Hoorn is no exception. They also have a choice of mooring places – the old town quays, which are usually right in the middle of town and require rafting up, not much privacy, but very picturesque; sometimes an older marina based in a dock marginally further out of town; and a huge new marina built on to the outer side of the sea wall. In Hoorn we went for the outer marina, which was vast but still surrounded by trees. The awful thing is that having subsequently spent two days in Enkhuizen I find it really difficult to remember Hoorn at all.

Another nice thing is that all the towns are only 10-15 miles apart, so you can set off at a very civilised time, say 11am, drift gently or sail enthusiastically (depending on the wind) for two or three hours, and arrive at your destination in plenty of time for a late lunch. Unless the wind drops completely you can afford to sail all the way, and of course there are no tides to worry about. We drifted up to the lock (sorry, 'Naviduct', as it goes over the motorway) at Enkhuizen which lets you out of the Markermeer and into the Ijsselmeer, and decided to go for the older of the two marinas, which is almost out of town as Enkhuizen is so small. Unlike Hoorn which has acquired loads of suburbs, Enkhuizen stops at the edge of the old town.

Enkhuizen also features the Zuider Zee open air museum, which we think we last visited with Guy about 18 years ago. This is a village of original and reconstructed houses from the past 200 years, which allows you to nose about extensively and in a few cases actually see the crafts being re-enacted. Ben wasn't sure he approved, as the costumes and style really aren't up to Kentwell Hall standards, but even he was eventually won over by a combination of the steam laundry, the tiny canals and numerous privies in which we photographed him. He wasn't so sure about the smoked eel, smoked on site in the traditional way, but Sam and I thoroughly enjoyed it although it took about six hours to get the grease off our teeth.



From Enkhuizen we sailed to Medemblik which is something like the Netherlands' answer to Cowes – it's focused almost entirely on sailing. We sailed through a grey, rather wet morning and are in the inner marina, which is very pleasant and surrounded by gabled Dutch houses, albeit not very old ones. It's also pretty cheap - €14 a night. The town is modern and not enthralling, although it does feature possibly the most expensive chandlery I've ever seen. Behind the marina, however, is a delightful park and walks through to the new, outer marina and the picturesque castle. By the time we got there the clouds had gone and the Ijsselmeer had turned the most astonishing shade of blue.

Today is apparently the start of the Bic Open dinghy championship – these are tiny craft like modernised Optimists (special offer championship price, €1,999) and there were about 20 brand new ones on the quay. We sat for a while and watched various youngsters launch and try them, before returning to the boat for dinner. Restaurant prices in the Netherlands are similar to the UK and with the current euro exchange rate we are eating in most of the time – other than a fishy meal at the clubhouse in Ijmuiden and an excellent meal at Top Thai in Amsterdam.

Today the Thames sea area forecast is SW 5-6, and although that's probably quite manageable in the Ijsselmeer we thought we'd take the opportunity to stay here so Sam can have a good look at the sea toilet, which seems to be pumping unpleasant substances out but not bringing any fresh water in. From January this year you're not supposed to pump your loo into any Dutch water anyway, instead using a holding tank which can be emptied at a pump-out station (sadly our holding tank doesn't have this facility). There are pump-out stations here but so far we have seen no-one using them – hmmmm. Anyway the sky has gone black, the wind is howling and thunder is rumbling, so we're quite glad to be here. Also, despite their multivariate history, one charming Ijsselmeer town is not that different from the next one so there's a strong incentive not to bother to move on.

Every yacht has bilge gods who live on small items which get dropped into the bilges. They seem to be very hungry today, as they have eaten not only Sam's beloved Gill sunglasses but also the key tool-roll which he needs to mend the loo.... of course it's just possible that the tool-roll is still at home and the sunglasses were left somewhere in Enkhuizen.

Too many lows

I can't believe these depressions keep coming over. Isn't there supposed to be a gap between them? This feels like the umpteenth day with force five to seven gusting eight, and there's no end in sight with at least another two lows lined up to hit us in the next few days.

We've done Van Gogh, Vermeer, Rembrandt, loads of pretty canals, a nice Thai meal, a visit to a camping shop/chandlery (for new cheap waterproofs for Ben), a Dirk supermarket, seen a few ladies of the night (in the afternoon), inhaled a lot of interesting smoke and crossed the Ij a good many times on the ferry. Perhaps after four nights it really is time to move on?

Amsterdammed

Just a quick one as this connection is a bit erratic, although free. We arrived with perfect timing at the Sixhaven in Amsterdam yesterday and squeezed into a "box" mooring. We thought it was tight but about another 15 yachts rafted up in the access channel, with loads more all the way down the marina. This is not a place where you can leave suddenly in the middle of the night!

Five minutes walk and a free ferry away is Amsterdam Centraal Station which is about as central as you can get. Yesterday we just wandered around the city. Today we took a tram to the Van Gogh Museum, which was wonderful, and walked back by a slightly circuitous route, buying essentials such as Geneva gin and Dutch bread on the way.

The forecast is awful, SW7-8, and although of course we are well inland here the next port of call will be on the Ijsselmeer which notoriously builds unpleasant seas in strong winds. So we might chicken out and stay here for a while. I have a slight sense of guilt but really can't think why....

Through the window

Well, we made it to Ijmuiden with almost no problems apart from a nasty, choppy sea with short, steep waves for the first half of the journey. We left Suffolk Yacht Harbour at 0445 on Monday and reached Ijmuiden almost exactly 24 hours later, having sailed (without engine) for most of the daylight hours and covered 130 miles.

We got a personal forecast from weatherweb.net before we left, as we usually do for long passages, and it was pretty accurate. Although it was very windy on Sunday night it died away as promised and the dawn in the Orwell was peaceful and beautiful with the winds gradually increasing to a peak of about 12-16 knots from the south-west. John at weathwerweb mentioned that we should aim to get in before Wednesday as that looked less pleasant, and indeed he was right – it's pretty windy here today, maybe F5-6 on the beach; great for kite surfers, of which there are dozens, but hard work for sailing. It's interesting that we have seen quite a few yachts going out. In the Med in these conditions you'd hardly see one.

On the English side the sea was fairly empty but just before halfway we crossed the first of the deep water routes and after that there was always shipping in sight. Avoiding it stopped us from getting bored. It took us a while to get our sea-legs but around teatime when things calmed down we were able to avoid a couple of bowls of the now-traditional “crossing stew”, made with pork, new potatoes, and all the vegetables at home that I needed to finish off before we left. For most of the way the sun shone and the sky was blue, which was a real bonus.

During the night we passed dozens of oil and gas platforms. Most are lit up like more than Christmas trees, some have additional flashing lights and horns every few seconds, they are bigger than most container vessels, yet even so we heard frequent warnings on the VHF to ships (and one yacht) apparently heading straight for a rig without being able to see it. Heading along between them felt like driving down Eastern Avenue at Christmas, with all those brightly decorated houses on each side, yet you don't have any contact with them or they with you.

Ijmuiden is not highly rated on the tourist stakes but it has a comfortable marina and a great sandy beach, with lots of bars and cafes and a small supermarket. We were hoping for a decent chandlery as we managed to forget all our spare oilies which Ben usually wears, but unfortunately the nearest chandlery is 15 min bike ride away (we only have one bike) or two stops on the bus and then a 1km walk. Both seem like a lot of hassle bearing in mind that this is the Netherlands, which is full of chandleries. Let's hope it doesn't rain too much before we pass the next one.

Tomorrow we plan to head down the Nordzee canal, 13.5 miles to Amsterdam. While I've been typing this the wind has increased from the high end of F4 (16 knots) to around F6 (22 knots plus). And we're in a sheltered marina. Our North Sea weather window is now definitely closed.

Another window passes by...

Between the Scandinavian depression heading off to the east, and the depression forming somewhere off Ireland, Saturday might be quite a nice day with perfectly sensible winds up until late morning on Sunday. So if we left on the 2am tide tonight (i.e. Saturday morning) everything might be fine. On Sunday it's due to be F6 again, and of course it might arrive early.

Also, the waves - following yesterday's wind, there's currently about 2m waves in the southern N Sea, which has the potential to be extremely uncomfortable.

Anyway we are chickening out again and waiting to see what Monday brings. But we will go for a day sail tomorrow. Then perhaps Sam and Ben might really believe we are going, and start packing - so far I'm the only one who has put a few things in a heap, and even my heap isn't that convincing.

Small window

Possibly we could have gone today. On this side of the North Sea there is a window of opportunity after Monday's depression passes to the east and a new depression sweeps down from Scandinavia on Thursday. Unfortunately on the other side the window looks much smaller. If the depression arrives earlier than expected we could be heading down on to the coast of the Netherlands on a lee shore at F6-7.

Anyway it's nice here. Peaceful. A bit odd because we can't commit to anything more than a day ahead, but we did say we wanted to spend part of the summer at home....

Glad we're not out there

I thought I was a bit of a wimp avoiding the forecast for today of SW4-5 occasionally 6 - I'm sure we'd have been fine. If that's what had happened.

The current forecast for Thames is :

Wind Westerly or southwesterly 5 to 7, increasing gale 8 for a time.
Sea State Moderate or rough.
Weather Squally showers.

So I'm glad to be at home.

Shakedown shakeup

Before we head off to the Netherlands we thought it would be a good idea to try a shorter cruise – just to check that everything on the boat works, that we remember how to sail, etc. We expected to do this on Saturday or Sunday, but when we visited the boat on Thursday it transpired that Lindsey had already finished the work on the Morse controls. I searched desperately for another excuse not to go but the only possibility was that the wind was due to go to the SW, a really bad direction for heading from the Orwell to the Blackwater which is where we planned to go. On the other hand the strength was only 3-4, so really pretty manageable.

So on Friday afternoon we had a somewhat bumpy passage for the 29 or so miles to Bradwell. The best sailing was coming down the Orwell; from Landguard onwards we tried different varieties of motor-sailing until eventually the sea calmed down as we approached the Blackwater estuary and we made better progress.

We celebrated our arrival with a couple of drinks and a pizza, I had a short walk to stretch my legs, came back and started getting ready for bed. (It was about 9.30pm). I wondered why the pink towel was on the floor of the forecabin, and why it was soaked with salt water. Turns out that some of the waves breaking over the bow had run down into the cupboard in our bedroom. I vaguely remember Ben mopping out the cupboard... and then oblivion until midnight, when I suddenly awoke and realised that the fridge compressor had been on without a break since we left Suffolk Yacht Harbour. I had a cross, sleepy conversation with Sam, turned off the fridge, and then went out like a light again until 7.30am.

The fridge worked fine the next morning. So did the sailing back to Suffolk, although initially there was no wind at all and then what there was appeared to be coming from the north-east, which would be spectacularly unfair. Fortunately we actually got about a F3 from the south-east with a splendid sail from the Bench Head buoy all the way to Suffolk Yacht Harbour.

So, what did we find?
  • We lost the top batten from the mainsail - Sam has already got a new length to replace it
  • We need to find a way to fix the leak from the bow, and a couple of other minor leaks
  • We do remember how to sail, but our tacks are a bit pathetic
  • We didn't have a copy of chart C25, which we will need for the N Sea crossing - but fortunately we do now
  • We need to find a better way to fasten down the front of the genoa
  • We forgot to reset the calibration on the depth gauge after installing the replacement instrument, so we've been sailing in about 1m less water than I thought (I realised this as we went aground for a second at the entrance to SYH )
  • The wind indicator is probably under-reading and is slightly skewed to starboard
  • The log is under-reading by 20-30%
What's good, or better:
  • The new engine controls work fine and I can once more control the throttle with my toe
  • The new upholstery is good to sleep on, though a bit firm
  • The new mainsail stack-pack ( a Jeckells Mainmate) makes it very quick and easy to lower the main, and more to the point Sam can get to the gin and tonic about 20 minutes earlier than before (time he used to spend putting on the sail covers)
  • It's much easier to see the Gunfleet sand than it used to be, because they are building a very large offshore windfarm on it.

Unfortunately the forecast now looks as though there will be SW5 or 6 on Monday and Tuesday, so Wednesday looks like the earliest departure. We'll see how it goes.

Merry Christmas from just me

Video of photos made for Sam's funeral    Dear friends and family As I hope you all know, this year has been a difficult one for me. On ...