Category: Trips

West Country Meanderings

This season we have managed several rallies and a long trip in the Summer. It kicked off at the end of July when Niki and I set off, accompanied with Brian of Puffin Bach, to deliver Molly to Falmouth.

I had decided that I wanted to push my envelope a bit and cross the channel again, but this time to Alderney and then make a 24-hour passage to Falmouth.

We had an easy crossing from Gosport with an 0300 start delivering us to Braye harbour at 1930. I had planned 3 nights in Braye so we would have two clear days on the island and some good sleep before the long leg to Falmouth.

We managed the former but not the latter! This summer has been dominated by Easterly winds and this is not a sheltered direction for Braye. The consequence was some of the most rolly nights afloat I’ve spent. Still, the time ashore was most interesting. Braye itself offers little apart from the harbour but there is much to see on this small island.

On the first day, we enjoyed a walk up to the pretty main town of St Anne’s, culminating in beer and local seafood in the sun. On the second day, we hired bikes and looped around the island. The castle at Longis and the lighthouse were particularly interesting, as was watching the massive tides pour through The Race.

After our third rather restless night, we departed for Falmouth. The first section was wonderful with Molly sailing beautifully past a (suitably distanced) view of the Casquets rocks and lighthouse. To the north of us were the busy shipping lanes and I had been advised to use the Separation Scheme to cross. As we approached, I felt like a mouse trying to run across a motorway, such was the speed and density of traffic. In a CSS, vessels must cross at right angles and this was impossible for us at our modest 5kt.

Watching the other yachts, several were making for the area just outside the CSS, and I realised this meant that the traffic was following a predictable track but we were not obliged to maintain a course at right angles to the shipping. This allowed us to turn and run parallel with the ships until we could turn and dash behind their stern, ahead of the next monster.

Having cleared the shipping lanes, there was far less traffic and the wind was on our nose. At dusk I put the main down and we motored on in the dark. This part was mostly rather dull, as there was nothing to see in the dark. The only excitement was an encounter with a fishing vessel which was behaving as if he could not see us and seemed to be permanently heading us off with his course changes.

After 25 hours we steamed gratefully into Falmouth and berthed at Falmouth Yacht Haven. Russell, our friend and skipper of Cornish Yawl Lucy, asked if we were in trouble, as our AIS had us at 16kt some miles off Salcombe. It was then we realised that our AIS was not transmitting properly and explained the erratic behaviour of the fishing boat! I was able to quickly rectify this when I discovered the antenna connection to the unit had worked loose.

We then left Molly on a swinging mooring in the harbour, so we could travel back to the Midlands to attend the excellent Cropredy music festival, where we bumped into some fellow Solent Gaffers. This detour was facilitated by our friend Ben who lives in Falmouth and was attending the festival with us.

On our return to Falmouth, we had some memorable days in the area, anchoring and swimming anchored at lighthouse beach and a wonderful overnight anchor at Turnaware Point.

We then began a slow meander East. The first port of call was a lunch stop at Mevagissey followed by a night at Fowey. From there we moved up to Plymouth with another swim/ice cream at Cawsand before a couple of nights in Sutton Marina.

This gave us a day in Plymouth sightseeing, including a Rolls Royce in the lido (a tribute to Keith Moon, apparently) and the fireworks championships viewed from our pontoon. We were welcomed into the marina by a fellow gaffer, Chris, owner of a a lovely Oysterman 22 .

There were very strong easterlies forecast for the next couple of days and rather than hole up in the eye wateringly expensive marina, we decided to explore the local rivers.

Passing up the lovely Tamar under the impressive bridges at Saltash and past the Lynher and Tavy, we made our way almost 10 miles inland to Calstock, once a centre of industrial activity. The river was an important route for exporting metals and stone in the 19th Century, which dwindled away at the beginning of the 20th with the coming of the railway, illustrated by the impressive viaduct over the river.

We found a vibrant village with traditional music and busy pubs. We also took a trip in the tender a couple of miles upstream to Morwellham Quay.

After two nights, we dropped down the Tamar, through Plymouth sound and into the Yealm. Conditions were very blustery and just as we passed the breakwater, there was a thunder and lightning accompanied by a squall which flipped our dinghy. Nonetheless we arrived in Noss Mayo unharmed and spent two more nights in its shelter, enjoying some lovely walks through Newton Ferrers and a loop along the coast walk.

Our next stop was Salcombe, and we were rejoined by Ben. Salcombe was buzzing and we enjoyed a few beers at the Victoria Inn before returning to Molly for dinner aboard.

The following day, the three of us set off for Dartmouth but passed straight through the town, heading for Totnes. We wound our way up the lovely Dart arriving at Baltic Wharf just at high tide. We enjoyed excellent beer and a meal at the Old Albert Inn (my favourite was RealAletivity – the pub is named after Einstein rather than Victoria’s consort).

We were awoken early next morning to be told we had moored in the wrong place, but were planning to leave on the high tide in any case. We dropped downriver to a pleasant anchorage to enjoy the sun before finding a berth in Dartmouth for the night. The town was very busy, as the annual regatta week was warming up and we had an excellent seafood meal at Rockfish. The following morning, Ben had to return home and, after early provisioning but an agonising wait for our turn on the water pontoon, we departed.

We had missed the tide, but it mattered little because the tide was not strong and there was virtually no wind so we made easy progress across Torbay, anchoring for a swim in the shelter of Anstey’s Cove whilst we waited for the tide to rise.

In the late afternoon, we made a very interesting entrance to Teignmouth. There is a very strong flow into the river mouth between the channel markers and then a hard-to-starboard ferry glide across the current to the part of the channel that loops through the town. Teignmouth is a busy town with a working commercial port and the kiss-me-quick seafront. We turned up just as a music festival was starting and it turned out the visitor berths were very close to the stage on the beach – we were just the right distance to enjoy the music. Whilst we were there, we took a tender trip across to pretty Shaldon on the opposite side of the estuary and which was having its regatta, so we were treated front row seats as the dinghies and rowing gigs raced past.

Feeling we had had full value from the bank holiday weekend, we spent a hot day anchored in Anstey’s cove again. With the weather finally due to swing round to the south west, we would be ready to leave the West Country early the next morning by rounding Portland Bill back into what we think of as “home waters”.

From Canal to Channel

I left Nieuwpoort before light and experienced that sailor’s privilege, to see the sun rise out of the sea. I made my way close inshore against the last of the eastgoing tide. There was no wind and I abandoned attempts to sail.

Anchored ships near the shipping lanes. From a distance, hard to discriminate from the fast moving ships in the separation zone

The sea was glassy smooth and the day grew very hot. Visibility was not good and a haze hung across the horizon, making it difficult to judge distance. I was monitoring VHF channels 16 and 74 (channel VTS) and heard no less than three reports of large inflatable boats carrying migrants. This was the first day of calm weather after a period of strong winds, and evidently boats were setting out uptide on the French coast. A French navy vessel was patrolling and deployed its two fast RIBs to track the migrants along the edge of French waters. From the VHF traffic, it seemed that the migrants were picked up by a lifeboat and taken to Dover.

The MOB markers on the east of the chart were the reported locations of inflatables trying to cross the channel. The MOB marker to the west was a group of channel swimmers!

Approaching Dover harbour I was welcomed by a porpoise gliding past, as well as a seal inside the harbour. I paused to refuel before taking my berth, and this took some time. Although the fuel pumps had the mechanism for self service, a rather uncertain looking man leaned over the high quay and said that self service was not working. Only one pump was working, so I had a wait and once I had filled my tank, I had to visit the man in his shed. He was in charge of a most Byzantine computer system and after a few minutes of “hunt and peck”, suggested I might type it faster. All of this contrived to occupy an hour from entering the marina to tying up. Fortunately, I was not in a hurry.

The EU administration of border control had been accomplished by visiting the cheerful border policeman in his office the previous evening. The UK side of things was achieved via an efficient looking web site. However, the information was far from clear. “We have sent you an email”. No, you didn’t. “You must ring yacht line as soon as you enter UK waters”. When I rang, the automated message told me no call was needed. “You must fly a Q flag until contacted by border control”. I’d be flying that still, if I’d followed that instruction!

The next morning was forecast for northeasterlies, increasing in strength and swinging to SW. I left early, but not early enough. The promised SE wind was light and variable and not long before Dungeness head, I noticed a yacht ahead of me on a parallel course bear away to the south, close hauled. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I experienced the same 90-degree wind shift. I decided to drop sails and motor into the wind, the other boat beat on. I took an offshore route past Dungeness, to maximise the tidal lift but progress gradually slowed across Rye bay. The wind increased to about F6 and though Molly bravely plugged into the short steep seas this created, her speed was rather curtailed. I watched as the boat I had seen earlier crossed and recrossed my path, evidently with much better boat speed than me.

The day started well enough – a three sail reach (I had second reef in anticipation of the forecasted winds)

The new Royal Sovereign light under construction (the stump of it to the right)

Late, I crept up to Beachy Head on a foul tide, slower and slower until the speed over the ground was less than two knots. He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day, so I reluctantly turned tail and sped downwind into Eastbourne at seven knots!

Beachy Head in more benign conditions the next day

The “Seven Sisters”, west of Beachy Head. There always seems to me to be eight, but it depends on how you count them. These are often shown when a stock shot of “the white cliffs of Dover” is needed for a film or TV programme. They’re white and cliffs, it not Dover!

The next day was much calmer, with wind in the north. However it was too light to be useful, so I motored across Sussex Bay past the Rampion wind farm.

I was earlier than planned at Selsey and the current was still foul. However, it was neap tides and the sea was very flat. I therefore decided to avoid as much of the tide as possible by approaching from somewhat south of the Looe Channel and then motoring over the Outer Owers.

This is an outlying reef usually carefully avoided, but this very shallow water (4-12m observed) carried perceptibly less current. The breeze woke up at that point too, so I got a little help from the sails just when it was most helpful!

The Looe channel. For me this is the boundary of the Solent, so I was back in home waters

The beautiful Queen Mary 2 departing the Solent.

This cruise ship (My Resilient Lady) has a much higher capacity but is not exactly pleasing to the eye!

Sunset behind No Man’s Land fort, with spinnaker tower standing over Portsmouth harbour entrance

A great breeze from the north east filled in and gave me a lovely sail across the eastern Solent – what a fabulous way to end this wonderful adventure. I was enjoying the sail so much that I sailed right into the harbour, dropping the main right opposite HMS Queen Elizabeth. The police boat mooched over to give me marks out of ten, though I’m glad it was dark, because it was not a tidy fuel! I had breeze and tide pushing me into my berth, as well as being full dark by that time. I was pleased I managed that nicely but was pleased someone came by to help had I needed it.

So that’s the end of Molly’s Netherlands meander, and what a wonderful adventure it’s been. I’d like to publicly thank the wonderful Dutch organising team, Dirk and Linda Peeters for their guidance during the return leg and to my fellow UK OGA members who were such great company.

The season is mostly over, but Molly will stay in the water this winter because I hope to make a few local trips in the coming months.

The last lock

With the strong south westerlies from the remnant of storm Ernesto finally abating, it was time to leave the seclusion of the canal system and return to la mer.

As if to remind us of the comparative slowness of travelling in the shelter of inland waterways, the “blue wave” from Middelburg to Vlissingen was frustratingly slow. We then had a longer wait than expected at the sea lock.

We did however, have plenty of time for the fair tide, so once we were discharged from the lock, we emerged onto the busy Westerschelde, gathered like a clutch of ducklings before dashing through a gap in the shipping to the southern shore.

The strong tide carried us quickly around the corner and then helped us along the coast. The wind direction was good for a fetch the whole way. Nevertheless, I used the engine too to ensure that I reached Nieuwpoort in time to check out with the customs, allowing me to be able to make an early start the next day.

Fishing from the harbour arm at Nieuwpoort

The five crews rather tired crews of Molly, Indian Runner, East Breeze, Moon River and Plum met to eat a meal together, in celebration of Chris’ birthday and our last evening as a group. Following this, Plum and East Breeze were heading for the east coast, via Ramsgate, whereas the rest of us were to cross to Dover for points west.

Return to Middleburg

The weather was still pretty boisterous and also straight out of the SW, so we had a day of motoring into the wind from Oude Tonge, through the Krammer sluis and along the Oosterschelde. This was surprisingly rough water and we were stemming a tide too. The wind was too strong to sail, as well as being on the nose, so we motored towards Roompot, until we could turn away towards the Zandkreeksluis. Anemone and East Breeze took an alternative route around an island to Plum and Molly, but it made little difference to our arrival time. Having passed through that lock, it was time to finally bid farewell to Dirk and Linda on Anemone, who had sailed with us ever since the pre-rally rally from Wemeldinge. Good friendships made, I am sure they will be renewed at some point in the future.

Anemone making an impressive bow wave on the Oosterschelde swell

Plum against the impressive bridge across the Oosterschelde

Our destination was Veere, at the far end of the Veerse meer. This very pretty town had just enough space to accommodate our fleet of three against the pontoon. Another sailing club with excellent facilities and another companionable meal aboard Molly, prepared by Marion of East Breeze.

Veere’s ornate town hall viewed from the immaculate old streets

Grote Kirk. The angular structure at the top is the observatory. The beautiful golden galleon at the top is always sailing downwind!

In the morning, there was time to walk around the old town and enjoy an excellent slice of Apple Cake. Colin and I visited the Grote Kirk. This place was less a place of worship and more of an art and history museum. The city of Veere was historically significant in earlier centuries and the church had also suffered both heavy damage and re-purposing in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The impressive 50m tall sixteenth century tower survives and we climbed the 240-odd steps to its onion shaped wooden observatory, which offered superb views away north to the sea, southwest down the Veerse meer and East over the farm land.

The impressive view from the top. Veere in the foreground, with the Veerse meer, Roompot and North Sea in the distance

It was in that direction we motored after lunch, to join Moon River and Indian Runner in Middelburg, ready for our departure onto the North Sea the next day. We were welcomed with the customary helpfulness by harbourmaster Susanne, and we moored by her Mk1 Crabber, Spinaway.

Hidden havens

Numansdorp harbour at the end of its canal

An advantage of travelling with a local is that you see places that might well otherwise pass beneath the radar. Our latest two stops are good examples of this, thanks to our good fortune to be travelling back from NL OGA 20 with Dirk and Linda of Anemone.

The Netherlands has a network of Watersportsvereniging (thankfully abbreviated to WSV!) which are basically private clubs that have visitor berths, rather than commercial marinas. These can often be found in small towns nestled behind the dykes and accessed by narrow channels.

Numansdorp and Oude Tonge are two examples of this. They are accessed by improbably narrow channels (made possible by the effective absence of tide) and providing both excellent shelter and charming locations.

In our current crawl south west against the worst that ex-storm Ernesto can throw at us, we have been looking for short hops to bring us to the best place to pop out onto the sea when the weather is more favourable for our passage.

Numansdorp entrance seen from the outside

When we approached Numansdorp along the Hollandsch Diep, I almost sailed straight past, so narrow was the entrance. In the especially lively conditions prevailing, motoring towards that lee shore felt quite intimidating but a mole projecting from the entrance made the waters in the approach very calm. After winding past reef beds into the town, we found sheltered berths for our party.

The weather was bad enough that we stayed two nights and I took the opportunity to repair the autohelm mount (important for the impending long passages on my solo homeward journey) and also borrow a bike to explore nearby. The second night was topped off with a lovely shared meal, prepared on our boats. The aperitif was enjoyed on the quayside and then the crews of Anemone, Plum, East Breeze and Hussar repaired aboard Molly for the remainder.

The next morning was an early start to use a short weather window to make more progress, this time to Oude Tonge. This was another small town with plenty of space for visitors, lovely local eateries and convenient shops. The harbourmaster’s assistant bucked the trend of these WSV marinas, in that the staff are almost universally friendly, accommodating and helpful.

Oude Tonge was one of the worst affected villages during the terrible flood during the winter of 1953. We visited the memorial and the devastating effects of the inundation were a reminder of the vulnerability of the Netherlands to the sea. The plaques commemorating the dead showed whole families lost in this tragedy.

In common with most of these villages, Oude Tonge has an impressive brick church

In the evening, we shared a most excellent final meal together at the quayside hotel – I enjoyed the most delicious mussels I’ve ever eaten, cooked in the Dutch way with a few vegetables (celery, onion and carrot) and herbs (thyme and rosemary). A fitting end to this phase of the trip.

Looking back, passing through the dyke at Oude Tonge

Back through the canals

Passing through the Oranjesluis back into the canals

During the rally, we enjoyed an extended period of warm, sunny weather but the remnants of hurricane Ernesto upset this fair spell. Several members of the fleet had made a rapid departure down the North Sea canal to Ijmuiden and a sea crossing before the bad weather arrived, but they were all heading for the English East coast. With strong SW winds expected along the Dutch North Sea coast, this route was not an option for Molly, so a group of us elected to reverse our outbound path along the standing mast route.

With limited time available, we made longer hops each day and missed out several stops, but also took the opportunity to overnight at some different places.

The first day, I sailed Molly from Enkhuizen to Durgerdam, whilst Niki and Alice took the train to visit Amsterdam for the day. My trip started with “bin bags”, motoring across a glassy sea. As I rounded the island of Marken though, a lovely breeze filled in and I enjoyed a welcome sail all the way into Durgerdam. We stayed at the very welcome Het Y sailing club again and enjoyed beers on the veranda before pizza aboard Molly.

The next morning we made an early start and passed through Amsterdam and onto the Zijkanaal south towards Haarlem. We spent another night against the wall in the city and entertained Dirk and Linda of Anemone aboard for a dinner of vegetable curry, prepared in the thermal cooker at lunchtime, whilst waiting for the Spaarndam bridges.

The third day was shorter, with a later start and the first of two “bridge marathons”. After twelve bridges (and one lock), we passed Kaag, pausing only to refuel and moved on to an overnight stop at a lovely spot at the southern end of the Braasemermeer at Gr Hem, a sort of hollow island surrounded by the lake. The facilities were simple but it was a glorious spot, though we were not really able to appreciate it as it rained heavily most of the afternoon and evening (though this was only the third rainy day in a month!)

An early departure from the Brassemermeer

Our fourth day, the last with Niki and Alice aboard, was to be a second “bridge marathon” to pass through Alphen and Gouda. The bridge before Gouda had been closed for maintenance during the previous week and that day was the first opening. As a result, there was a lot of other southbound traffic, in contrast to previous days. Nevertheless we made fantastic progress and were past the bridges at Alphen and the lock at Gouda before 11.30. That’s 15 bridges before lunchtime! Unfortunately, in the heavy traffic, our fleet became divided with only Avola and Molly in the vanguard.

Avola and Molly reached the Wijnhaven Marina in Dordrecht in late afternoon and found there was only just space for us. Niki, Alice and I went out for a valedictory meal, as the girls were due to fly home the next day and I was to bring Molly home from solo from that point.

An ending at Enkhuizen

At Hoorn, we were joined by Alice and her friend Leah, who had been inter-railing together since finishing their exams in June.

We enjoyed two nights in Hoorn, and on the second hosted an exchange meal aboard Molly. Each English crew was paired at random with a Netherlands crew, in order to further foster Anglo-Dutch friendship. Our guests were Maud and Freek, of Bluebird, a beautiful wooden 1912 Bermudan racing boat. We were treated to wonderful platter of local smoked fish for a starter and team Molly reciprocated with coq au vin from the thermal cooker. The gin and tonic aperitifs, followed by some lovely red wine ensured a convivial evening.

The crews of Molly and Bluebird sharing an exchange meal aboard Molly

The next morning was A-level results day for the girls, an entirely electronic affair conducted with the traditional IT struggles but both girls were delighted to gain the grades they needed for their chosen university.

After the very light airs for most of the passage to Hoorn, we were treated to a marvellous sail, off the wind for the final outward leg of the rally from Hoorn to Enkuisen. The fleet made a terrific sight spread out across the bay and we soon arrived at the sluis which transferred us from one body of fresh water to another, the Markermeer into the IJsselmeer.

Oeral Thùs (name means “at home everywhere “) powering along. She is a sailing barge dating from the end of the 19th Century

The first skirmish of the Battle of the Zuiderzee was fought during this passage. We towed clogs again but had also been set the task to pass a capsule containing the sailing instructions from boat to boat whilst we were underway. We saw the heaving line cast from Stardust to Clytie and then to Bonita. Bonita passed it to us during a slightly hairy close pass.

As usual, the fleet made a fine sight at the new port, Enkhuizen, rafted to the town quay. We celebrated the girls’ success with a harbourside meal not twenty yards from our berth. The next day began wet and grey, but undaunted we went to the Zuiderzee museum.

This was a very interesting place, comprised of buildings, boats and other artefacts showing the life of the folk who lived and fished around the former Zuiderzee before it was shut off from the sea in the early part of the 20th Century. Land was recovered, the water became fresh and a way of life faded from existence; the purpose of the museum is to record these customs.

After dinner aboard, we shared drinks with our raft-mates Dirk and Linda on Anemone (“the enemy”) and we found we had much in common, particularly enjoyment of good beer and whisky.

I had visited a slijterij (off licence) to procure a bottle of Dutch gin and having chatted to the proprietor had been persuaded to also buy a bottle of Dutch whisky (that wasn’t hard!). I did not even know such a thing existed (there are several, this was Millstone from Rotterdam) and whilst it’s not “scotch”, it’s a pleasant drink.

We bowed out of the second skirmish of the battle of the Zuiderzee and chose instead to provision the boat, ready for the long passage home. With some stiff south westerlies forecast for mid-week, thoughts of the quicker sea route were discarded and we set to devising the quickest way to reverse our outward journey.

The end of the rally was marked with a most enjoyable party, each boat being awarded a small individual gift to mark their participation in the event. Alice was much more pleased to be taught to play the “bones” and then gifted with a pair to take away and practice on! With many new social bonds formed during the rally it was a lively affair and many fond farewells made before the final dispersal of the fleet the next morning.

Niki and I shared a nightcap with Jelle and crew aboard his lovely Cornish Crabber pilot cutter. Much whisky was drunk and sea tales exchanged.

From Dordrecht to Gouda and Haarlem

Passing through one of the huge lifting bridges to Gouda

The NL OGA 20 armada left the lovely Wijnhaven Marina in Dordrecht in two enormous streams, when the bridge lifted at 0820 and again at 0850. Shipping had been warned of this by the rally organisers and this seemed to have worked because there was little traffic ax we crossed the wide Oude Maas and made our way up the Noord on our route to Gouda. Molly squeezed under the Alblasserdamsebrug railway bridge, the first of many on our way through the countryside.

Our hopes of staying in the museum harbour of Gouda had been blocked by a broken lock, but no sooner had we arrived and moored on the main canal outside the town than we were told the lock was fixed! It took us over 2 hours to negotiate all the bridges and the lock to enter the city, but it meant we were right in the heart of things and the boats looked wonderful dressed all over.

Apart from the usual socialising, we went to see the “cheese pantomime market” in the town centre, stock up on provisions and generally eat well.

It took us two more days to reach Haarlem, passing through very rural parts of North Holland, punctuated with small, neat towns . It’s very obvious that the general land level is below that of the canals and only remains habitable through the pumps that keep the waters out. The countryside was very beautiful and we saw much wildlife as we travelled.

We made our overnight stop on a lake near the town of Kaag and were led to a lovely secluded harbour called Meldsteiger where we were serenaded by musicians from the traditional barge which had joined our fleet.

We completed our journey to Haarlem the next day, traversing 11 bridges. Our convoy of over 30 boats looked wonderful and the bridges opened in turn like magic as the fleet approached. We attracted quite a bit of attention as we passed, giving the trip a party feel, though it required a great deal of concentration to travel so close to so many other boats.

The fleet massing before the railway bridge, to pass north to Haarlem

Arriving in Haarlem, we had two nights in the centre of the city, giving us a chance to re supply ourselves and enjoy the beautiful city. We had a tour of the reconstructed mill of Adriaan, which had successively ground mortar for building, tobacco for snuff and grain for bread and brewing.

On the second night we tasted some of the different beers at the Jopen brewery, housed in a repurposed church. The weather was scorching hot, so cold beers were very welcome! We invited the crews of Puffin and Windbreker aboard Molly for dinner and had a most enjoyable evening – beef dhansak from the thermal cooker.

The rally begins

Our group of boats which had gathered at Wemeldinge began their journey to Hellevoetsluis by first visiting the picturesque town of Willemstad. The fleet rafted to the town quay made a wonderful sight and we enjoyed another alfresco meal that evening. The passage to Hellevoetsluis the next day was begun under sail, downwind in increasingly light airs. As the boat speed dwindled to a crawl, Ben and I took turns to swim off the boat, which was very refreshing on such a hot day. We then reluctantly fired up the engine and motored across the glassy water.

We were all greeted in Hellevoetsluis by local organiser Else, who we had met at previous events in the UK. One of the treats of a rally is receiving the goody bag of items. Apart from the beautifully produced rally program and T-shirt, we found, among other little treats, stroopwaffels, a mysterious foam-filled clog (evidently for turning into a boat), a flashlight and a lovely laser-cut plaque.

Hostilities between Dutch and English navies begin…

The reception party was a very jolly affair at an old armoury in this historically important town. We were served a stream of delicious shared pizzas from a “pizza van”, followed by a sea battle between the Dutch and British navies in the form of a game of skittles devised by organised Rijk.

We stayed two days in Hellevoetsluis and enjoyed a race on each day. In the first race we sailed really well in a good breeze and managed to beat the other two Crabber 26’s racing but did not fare so well on the second day in some very light airs.

Molly had the legs of Lahloo on a breezy day…

…but we didn’t do so well the next day in light airs

“Admiral De Reuter” giving us a tour of Hellevoetsluis

On Saturday afternoon Niki joined the boat and we attended the formal opening of the rally and on Monday made our way to the next port, Dordrecht. We chose a river route, following the tidal Spui to join the Oude Maas (“old river Maas”). The former was very rural surrounded by fields and dotted with swimming places, whereas the latter was busier and more industrial with a lot of commercial traffic. We had to negotiate a couple of major junctions, the AIS was really useful here for being able to spot commercial traffic coming round the corner.

Colin of Plum making good use of a parasol

No locks on this journey but an enormous bridge, carrying a busy railway line, as well as a road bridge. This opens once an hour in a meticulously synchronised operation. We just made an opening time and I was glad not to have to wait for an hour in these busy and choppy waters.

We saw a train cross the bridge and, seconds later, the middle section started to slowly rise, whilst the bascules of the road bridge also hinged upward. As soon as there was enough air draught, the boats began motoring through, under the watchful eye of the bridge master. We brought up the rear, at full revs to get under in time. The rail bridge was already lowering as we passed through and had been up for less than two minutes!

The second bridge of the day was at the narrow entrance to Wijnhaven and after the usual boat dancing, the fleet was rafted three-deep to the pontoon.

The next day was a rest day and we enjoyed an Indonesian meal, walks around the picturesque city and generally trying to keep cool in the wonderful hot sunny weather.

I wanted to top up the fuel but the fuel berth is designed for commercial vessels and is not safe for small boats to moor, so I ended up carrying two 10-litre cans back to Molly.

We waved Ben off back to Falmouth in Dordrecht. It had been good to have his experience on board, particularly for the channel crossing. It would be just Niki and I for the next couple of weeks, until Alice and her friends join us near the end of the rally.

The palaver on the pontoon (briefing for the next day)

Winding through Zeeland

Having entered the canals and reached Middleburg, our next task was to cross the Zeeland region to reach the pre-rally gathering in Wemeldinge.

After fuelling up, we motored down the wide straight canal to the lock at Veere which opens onto the Verse Meere. This is a brackish lagoon created as part of the system to control water levels. It’s evidently very popular for all kinds of water sports and is bordered by beaches, camp sites and sailing clubs. The buoyed channel is quite narrow and winding and it’s necessary to stay within its path as we found out to our cost!

We threaded our way under sail – our course always seemed to be a beat, despite the twists and turns of the channel. Every time we thought we could sail straight to the next mark, the wind would shift to head us off! After an hour or two of short tacking back and forth in the narrow channel, we gave up and motored, as we’d been warned not to turn up late to our destination that night, Goes (pronounced like a Scot might refer to his home: “hoose”).

We needn’t have worried, when we reached the lock to leave the Verse Meer, we discovered it was broken and quite a few boats were waiting. We rafted onto the waiting pontoon and, er, waited. It was no hardship in the sun!

After something over an hour, the lock was fixed and disgorged its waiting flotilla of boats. I had been worried that we might not get into the lock as so many boats were waiting. However, the lock was huge and after over 30 boats had emerged, we were cleared to enter – all the waiting boats fitted easily.

Indian Runner and Molly on the Oosterschelde

Even though it was now late, we were still determined to reach Goes, so motored a short distance along the tidal Eastern Scheldt to our final lock and the short canal to Goes. As we entered that lock we were told there was a problem with one of the bridges ahead but we went ahead anyway. It was early evening by then but engineers were working to fix it and, by the time reached it, it was opened. We passed up to the town, moored and walked to the town square for our evening meal.

The Mary Magdalen church in the centre of Goes

The following day our target was to travel the six miles or so to Wemeldinge, for the “pre-rally rally”. Many of the boats travelling to Hellevoetsluis for the main rally were to gather at Wemeldinge and travel onward in convoy.

We left our moorings in Goes and made our way along the short canal to the sea lock, only to be stopped at a bridge in the small village of Wilheminasdorf. We had two red lights, indicating a delay and we received local information that the bridge was broken and it would be several hours until it opened, so we made fast as best we could. It was a very hot day but I could think of worse places to be trapped!

Plum, Moon River, Molly, Indian Runner and Puffin Bach trapped in Wilhelminasdorf

After a while, we we visited by local fellow gaffer owner Rik who offered us a lift to the bar whilst we waited. As I knew we had a couple more hours to wait, I inflated our tender and ferried some of our party ashore. Rik very kindly drove us to the sailing club bar, where we bought ice creams back for everyone.

Just before the engineer was due to arrive, a large fleet of boats arrived behind us from Goes. The bridge was lifted as soon as the engineer arrived and there was a general jostle to reach the lock. It took two lock cycles to pass all the waiting boats through, but we were soon in Wemeldinge.

We took the next day as a rest day, hired bikes for a tour of the local area and sampled the excellent seafood in nearby Yerseke. Later, a reception had been arranged to welcome all the travellers and we spent the evening getting to know our travelling companions.