Tag: Middleburg

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.

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.

Into the canals

We made a 4.30am start from Blankenburg, leaving the port in the darkness with the bright lights of Zeebrugge port ahead. It was a very calm morning and we motored down tied with just the staysail to stabilise us. Despite being a neap tide, the current was very strong and we were making over 6kt as Zeeland hove into view. We had to wait for a large container ship to pass before turning across the Westerschelde to enter Vlissingen. There were a number of other boats waiting for the ship lock into the canal, as apparently there had been a problem with the lock. We passed through a few minutes after the time for the “blue wave”, where a convoy of boats passes through the bridges opening in sequence.

Our destination was just a few miles up in the historic city of Middleburg. Before we could relax and have a kip after our early start, we were introduced to box moorings. I’m sure we entertained the onlookers but with help, managed to get settled.