Middelburg top temp

Phew wot a scorch as a newspaper once said. 32C with almost no wind. We are very comfortably berthed in Middelburg for a couple of days. We are better prepared for the heat, finally finding a use for a plastic tarpaulin that we've been carrying for years, rigged up as a shade for the cockpit. With all hatches open and towels blocking the direct sun, life had been on the pleasant side of bearable.

But enough of the constant complaining about the weather, I hear you say, what of the town. We are moored in an old harbour right by the town centre (pics), which has been a common and very handy feature of Dutch towns and cities. Here we are literally a 5-rung metal ladder and 15 metres from the yacht club with facilities and excellent cafe /restaurant. I know we mention facilities a lot, and that's because a good toilet and shower becomes very important - nuff said. 

But the town I hear you cry ... we were expecting something small, pretty and sleepy rather like Willemstad but it is big and buzzing and more like Gouda or Dordrecht. Our outing this morning was only as far as the Thu market to buy fish and veg, with a stop for a Fanta and another for coffee and iced water. We failed to find the tourist office because the map lied about its location and to be honest we were a bit late up after yesterday's efforts. The afternoon was spent sheltering from the sun on the boat or in the yacht club.  So more about Middelburg tomorrow. 

We are now looking ahead at the weather, you cannot really expect any more than a week for predictions, and it looks remarkably settled ... which may go down in the annals of famous last words ... and we are planning our route home via Belgium and France.

Hot, hotter, hottest

Today we came 27 miles in 10 hours...our slowest day so far. It was hot beyond belief, scorching hot, over 30C° and our route took us through the riverside holiday land of the Verse Meer where it seemed every child in Holland was playing like mad on the water and yelling for good measure.

It took huge concentration to helm in these crowded waters with dinghies, motor boats and yachts sailing at you from all angles. We had managed to sail ourselves earlier, a blissful hour and a half in wide open waters in a perfect sailing wind.  Sirena leaned to the wind joyfully as if to say ' this is what I'm for'. After all we have been using her as a mere motoring canal boat for 2 weeks!

The heat intensified as the day wore on and we motored on. It was unbearable being down below as the breeze didn't get down there. It was pretty unbearable in the cockpit too in the full glare of the sun. The wind had fallen away and almost everyone we saw was bare chested (men) and bikini clad (women). We wondered if they had heard of skin cancer.

We went through two locks today and one small bridge.  Long waits at both locks. The first was a huge affair well equipped with bollards to tie on to. The boats present didn't fill it so that was easy. 

The second was much smaller and we ended up being crowded by a mini super yacht, a gleaming monster motor boat which towered above our stern. We escaped before him when the lock opened. 

By the time we got to our target, Middelburg in a smallish canal, we were melting, dehydrated, sweatstained and shattered.

We waited a final half an hour at the harbour master's hut before the bridge lifted to allow us to reach our lovely finger berth, followed by showers in the yacht club and long cold drinks in the restaurant and fine dinner, with a view of our own Sirena through the window.

Salt water and sunshine

It's been a watershed day, almost literally. The second of two big locks on our 20 mile trip took us from freshwater to saltwater. 

We set off from Willemstadt at 0930 just as the heat was starting to intensify. Soon we were at the first massive lock, Volkeraksluis queuing up to wait on a nearby pontoon. No-one seemed to know when the lock would be ready so we all waited with engines off. Then there was a stream of boats coming out of the lock from the opposite direction and we knew it was time to start up. 

We counted sixteen boats in the lock ... some even rafted up. It was truly enormous. And on top a road bridge with the traffic thundering along. The clearance was given as 18.5m and we had measured our masthead to be 15m ... yet looking up it seemed awfully close. All was well though and half an hour later we had dropped all of half a metre and exited in a rush of boats. 

The weather was picture prefect with clear blue sky and just a breathe of wind. We're in wider waters now so sailable in principle - one boat tried a mainsail but we all kept motoring. It seemed to be a bit of a race down the Volkerak to the next lock. We kept to our cruising speed and let them go ahead, and when we reached the next lock it was green and they were piling in and we just squeezed in at the back. One smaller boat who was a bit slower didn't make it, and as he cut us up earlier we felt a quiet justice had been served. 

The massive lock gate closed just 1m behind us. Hare and tortoise job. This time we dropped more than a metre and emerged into salt water - L could smell it immediately. Out we all piled again and some went right to Bruinisse, some ploughed on down Mastgat perhaps with the next lock in their sights. We turned left into Krabbenkreek (honestly) and after a mile turned into a marina at Sint Annaland. I know this sounds like a pathetic theme park for someone called Anna, and there was nothing about it in our Cruising Guide, but their website looked good so we risked it. Wow, what a great find. Huge modern marina, finger berths, great facilities ... and a sandy beach on the river where we went for a swim. With temperatures reaching 30 it was very welcome. The heat sapped our energy though, we didn't make the long walk into the town. We could see the church spire and two windmills, standard issue pretty Dutch town. Instead we washed the boat and had a simple pasta meal onboard. 

Willemstadt, wild and woolly

Actually it wasn't Willemstadt that was wild and woolly, it was the journey to get there. 

We left elegant old Dordrecht early, to make sure we caught the double rail and road bridge opening at 0915. Even then it was raining moggies and mutts. 

It got worse as we chugged further down the wide waterway. When we entered Hollands Diep the rain was torrential, we were motoring into a 20 knot headwind and visibility was very poor. (Especially through Lesley's streaming specs.) Mammoth barges were passing on both sides as we hugged the edge of the main channel.

We had life jackets on, full wet weather gear and with wind over tide, a nasty swell and chop. It felt like the sunny canal life of last week was a long long way away. 

When Nic came on watch,  the rain petered out and after 4 hours and 15 miles, we arrived at the marina at Willemstadt,  a former garrison town with a star shaped fort. Unfortunately this was our first experience of the Dutch 'poles' style of mooring. 

In most of northern Europe we have finger berths where crew can hop on to the finger shaped pontoon next to the boat, to tie the ropes and then to enter and exit the boat from the side. Very civilised. 

In Holland they tend to do it differently. No finger berth.  Dutch boats reverse in, with the stern of the boat meeting the pontoon and at the other end,  ropes are thrown around 2 large poles in the water. Fine except we can't reverse (Sirena"s long keel again) and even if we could, we have a large trawler type pushpit at the back that means we can't get off her that way! 

So Sirena"s bow is hanging several feet above the pontoon and we have to somehow swing our legs up and climb awkwardly over the pulpit, hanging on to the Furlex for grim death. 

Anyway we had a good nose around Willemstadt, seeing the Orange windmill and Mauritzhuis (pictured) (Mauritz was William of Orange's son) plus various fortifications and the very pretty waterfront cum harbour. It didn't take long to walk the whole thing. We had a coffee, an ice cream, a drink, a supermarket shop and then dinner of an Indonesian noodle dish at a friendly eatery.  

And almost as soon as we had arrived, the wild and woolly weather departed. The afternoon became baking hot and we soon needed hats and suncream. It hit 27 degrees.

From November to August,  in just about four hours.

Angles on Dordrecht

We sit here on our second day in Dordrecht listening to the cacophonous sound of the Grote Kerk's bells calling the Calvinist faithful to the 5pm service, while the rain storms sweep across with shots of sun inbetween. The lovely weather of the last week has let us down for a day, hence we are still here rather than on our way south as originally planned. The good weather is rumoured  (sorry, forecast) to return during tomorrow when we shall progress down river and into the open water of Hollands Diep to Willemstad.

Dordrecht is beautiful wherever you go. Yesterday we went to lots of places after getting up early and doing two lots of washing. We're in the town marina which is perhaps 300m from the centre yet it is very peaceful ... despite constant comings and goings of infeasibly large motorboats through the small bridged entrance. 

It seems the city, oldest in the Netherlands, is built on clay and many of the buildings have an alarming lean to them. The church tower was planned to be an impressive height but when they built it they changed their minds and stopped halfway. 

Our first port of call yesterday was the

Het Hof, an old building which has been relentlessly  modernised and which boasts the most expensive and all encompassing interactivity museum we have ever seen. It includes a lavish feature film with real actors which tells the story of the start of the Netherlands at the time of William of Orange. We were the only people watching, in August, in a museum which must have cost a million.

The point of the film was to show a crucial meeting at Dordrecht which changed the course of Dutch history. The museum is a tad bombastic - all about Dordrecht and its place as a trading and shipping hub from the 1400s onwards. 

Our Combikaart museum ticket also allowed us to visit an art museum (again relentlessly modernised) which offered a lot of so-so local artists and a single Rembrandt. 

Streets are all cobbled, blocked and bricked. There is no tarmac. It's gracious, on a larger scale than chocolate-box Gouda and with few tourists. Most streets are very quiet.

Each day we've had lunch onboard as it's not cheap eating out. Last night we went to a very small and very slow fish restaurant close by. The wait was worthwhile, for oysters gratinated with various Dutch cheeses, fried sole and delicious swordfish. 

We hit the shops to buy food and also looked in a few antique shops for a coal scuttle for home. We spotted an oak barrel with brass hoops which would work a treat. The surly dealer wanted 60 euros. We retired horrified.

Later the same day,  different shop, similar barrel ...15 euros! Result. It's been stowed in a locker.

Today we had a much later start as the rain hammered down. L went to church ...to the Grote Kerk very close to the boat. It was a mistake. 2 hours of Calvinist Dutch service, no english translation and not an idea what was going on! Impressive building though.

Talked to another British yacht, very rare to see one. They are doing same route as us but opposite direction. Have had similar frustrations with waiting for locks ... oh good!

Went to third museum on combi, large house of rich collector, for once not modernised but as when he died in 1921. Combi ticket supposed to be only one day, we played the innocent, thought it was w/e, how could we do three in one day, smile ... and the nice lady let us in. Very enjoyable. Refused the siren call of their cafe and scampered back to the boat. 

Later the weather improved and we had a stroll around old streets and waterfront, almost deserted. Perhaps it is the end of holidays here for the Dutch and they are back to work tomorrow - poor them. 

Half way notes

In time and miles we're about halfway. How to summarise the trip so far? 

Certainly successful in that last year we airily said "we'll go to Amsterdam and see some canals" without much idea of what was involved and needed. Then with minimal planning, a lot of it as we go along, we've made it work. Only today did we try to buy a chart for the Delta area because it is not covered by Staandemastroute or by Imray Netherlands charts (that we bought online in UK the week we left). The one Chandlers in town was open and he did have one copy of exactly what we needed. 

One downside was the 26 hour crossing, in that we asked ourselves "why do we do this" at 2am when approaching unidentifiable lights. And yet it is great experience and nothing bad happened. Another downside is the many mooring manoeuvres every day due to bridges and locks, and the small marinas. Our lovely strong seaboat is difficult to control at close quarters. And yet all we have is a couple of scrapes and some embarrassing memories, both of which can be polished away. Plus plenty of boat handling experience for the future. The language had also been a struggle; although they almost all speak English, the key navigation and information books are resolutely in Dutch only. And bridge timing info differs between 2 books and a website. Thank goodness for Google Translate! 

One could conclude from this that sailing out to sea during daylight is the way to minimise stress, and that's true if you are away from shipping lanes, shallow waters and vicious tides. Oh, that's why the Med is so popular! Ah but we don't like it that hot. Hard to please or what? There is another angle to reducing boat stress, and that's to stop doing entirely new things and places, and go where we have gone before while we still remember the tricks and rules for getting in and out. 

Of course we're glad we came and we're looking forward to more open water as we make our way home. 

The longest twenty miles

Today it took seven hours to go twenty miles. Even the slowest marathon runner would have outpaced us. 

As we left our mooring in Kattensingel in Gouda, a heron was scouting for breakfast just feet away. (see picture)  He nabbed a small fish effortlessly. We had already put away porridge.

To cut a long story short,  it was a day full of frustrations. It took an hour to get through the two tiny bridges and a lock only (a few hundred yards apart) which formed the entrance to Kattensingel. Slow wasn't the word.

As the waterway became more tidal and wider, (and more industrial) lo and behold we had tide against us. We had almost forgotten what that feels like...  Eventually it was 3.5 knots against us,  plus a stiff headwind too. Waves and all. It rained.

There was a large lifting bridge at one point where we had read it would open at 10 to and 20 past the hour. It was open at ten to. We rushed toward it. A loudspeaker boomed ' English sailboat go behind the other sailboats'. They were lined up at a waiting pontoon  waiting for 20 past. But how were  we to know? The Dutch expect you to know.

Later we arrived at a major bridge that we read would open at 1415. We were 35 mins early and looked for a place to tie up and wait. There was none! It was ridiculous. A total of nine yachts had been hanging around with engines on, idling in stiff tide and wind, waiting for the damn bridge. Sirena didn't find it easy to hold station thanks to her long keel. At last we got through. 

Finally we approached our goal, Dordrecht. The spires of the city looked pretty as the rain began again. We entered a small bridge into a city centre marina, tied up in a tricky berth only to have the harbour master whistling at us telling us we couldn't stay there as it was reserved for a long barge. Earlier we had been told we couldn't reserve a place! So we had to turn around in a small space using bow thruster and go into another berth, scraping on a pole as we arrived.

Both of us were hot, cross and frustrated. That wore off when we went for a short walk around the streets of the harbour area. It is on a bigger scale than Gouda and more graceful and imposing. However we fear the 67 bells of the Grote Kerk's magnificent carillion might just keep us awake tonight.