Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Roompot      28th June:

    I awoke at 4am to take over the watch. Rex had only come across three other yachts during his watch; an uneventful journey so far. He was utterly whacked and turned in. I had the whole world to myself as we skirted the shipping lanes that pass between the Greater Gabbard and Galloper windfarms. Then I had the company of a huge Maersk container ship that was steaming past me on its journey from Felixstowe to Wilhelmshaven. Several minutes after its passing, its wake, a wall of water 1.5m high, slowly swept under Duonita, sending our vessel into a violent dance. I cursed since that would awaken the dead never mind poor Rex's slumbers. But he snored valiantly on oblivious to it all, and Duonita settled down into the gentle background swell.

Sun Peeping Out Over the Eastern Horizon

    Greater Gabbard and Galloper; yet another pair of romantic sounding names, though they too are treacherous sandbanks. The name Gabbard has been around for a long time, indeed the Battle of the Gabbard, (a.k.a. North Foreland), was fought in 1653. This area comprises two offshore sandbanks located to the east and west of the area, known as the Outer and Inner Gabbard respectively. The Inner Gabbard is approximately 16km long and 36.5km from the coast in the Felixstowe area and the Outer Gabbard approximately 4km long and 46.5km from the same coastal location. The northern end of the Inner Gabbard is subject to a large area of water turbulence. The depth of the surrounding area is generally 20-30m. Depth over the Inner Gabbard is reduced to 5-15m, and 2-20m on the Outer Gabbard.
    The Galloper is a sandbank, around 50km offshore from the Felixstowe area, around 11.5km long and less than 1km wide. The general depth of the area is 30-50m to the west and 20-30m to the east. However the depth over the Galloper itself decreases from 20m to as little as 2m.
    This collection of sandbanks is obviously a hazard to ships and yachts alike, hence the shared channel that runs between them. Thus since vessels do not intentionally encroach upon these sandbanks, two huge windfarms have been built upon them.
    Then that magical moment arrived that I always relish, watching the sun slowly peep its furrowed brow over the horizon, and checking that all was clear in the world, would slowly rise towards the heavens. Sunrises and sunsets at sea are always marvellous moments to me.
    As Duonita clipped the top of the Galloper, the depth momentarily dropped from 25m to 11m, and the tide rushing across this cliff betrayed the shallows in a series of turbulent outfalls; quite spectacular.

Sunset Over Neeltje Jans from the Oosterschelde

Our Berth on the Geese Pontoon at Roompot Marina, Rex Tidying the Decks

    With not enough wind for sailing, we motored on, swapping 4 hour watches. Only the occasional large ship crossed paths with us. The odd shower of rain came and went, and the wind temporarily picked up at one point. As we approached the Dutch coast at the outer reaches of the Westerschelde, Rex did encounter problematic situations stemming from ships entering and leaving that great, very busy estuary, where it is not always clear which direction ships leaving would take. He did find one entering his space forcing him to take evasive action; the lad told me the tale with fluent cursing when I took over watch.
    By evening we approached one of the entrance points into the Dutch waterways system, the lock gate at the Roompot, which sits at the southern end of Neeltje Jans, where we visited the excellent Deltaworks exhibition last year. Here we hung around with three other yachts at a waiting pontoon. Rex was slowly winding himself up about the "silliness" of waiting for the lock to open, or was it due to the fact that he was experiencing great difficulty in trying to establish telecommunications contact with Meryl. Crumbs, did Nelson have this trouble when he wanted to contact Lady Hamilton? I left him to it.

Cheers from the Roompot

    But eventually, as all good things come to those who wait, we entered the huge lock, and rose by a dizzying few centimetres to the water level of the Oosterschelde. Then it was serene motoring over a flat calm Oosterschelde to the Roompot marina, where we moored on the waiting pontoon. It was also the pontoon favoured by a gaggle of geese who were trying to create a layer of guano across its surface.
    I wandered up to the marina office, which was closed at this time on a Sunday evening. However, a reconnoitre of the facilities proved successful. I met an elderly couple who hailed from Stavoren which we visited a couple of years ago. A lovely couple they were, and once I had told them about our earlier visit to Friesland, they related to me how they had sailed across to the English east coast. I wished them well and returned to find Rex chatting to Sean, a chap from Brightlingsea, who also owned a Westerly Konsort Duo. Indeed he was part of a Westerly Association flotilla that was moored in the marina, most of which were there prior to their return to the UK. Rex and he chatted for a while about the merits of Westerlys; always the way with men and their toys.
    In the dying embers of sunlight, a flock of starlings circled the marina, and decided to rest up on the rigging of some yachts 50m away. A noisy crowd they were, and probably messy too, but I was thankful that they had decided not to congregate above us, the geese were enough to be getting on with.
    Evening was wound up with a delicious spaghetti Bolognese, previously prepared by Meryl, washed down with the odd beer or two. It felt good to be back in Holland.