Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Hindeloopen      20th July:

Me Taking Duonita into the Waddenzee

    We all arose early with a cheery blue sky to greet us. Large gas field support vessels were already slowly edging their way into and out of the commercial port. On their allocated quayside, mountains of sturdy, steel cages containing tanks and containers for the rigs were already lined up, each with their slings attached, ready to be loaded onto their workhorse ships. Streams of trawlers were passing through the harbour heading out to the Waddenzee and North Sea. Meryl gave a suppressed giggle; when Rex and I arrived around 2am a couple of years back, a whole fleet of trawlers left just as we were arriving, making life temporarily difficult for us.
    We shared breakfast and then walked with Meryl down to the train station, taking a short cut through the Maritime Museum. She was returning to the UK for several reasons: she wanted to give her garden more attention, she wanted to give me and Rex a chance to do some "proper" sailing, and she was "boated out", i.e. she needed a break from the confined space of a small boat for a while. Her plan was to make her way via train to the Hoek van Holland, and take a ferry back to Harwich. Her return would be in eight days time, meeting up where ever Rex and I were located at the time.

Trawlers on the Waddenzee

    Despite a wrong turning, we arrived at the station in good time and she caught the 09:04 train to Amsterdam. We were saddened to see her go, and Rex was a little worried he couldn't maintain contact with her till she reached home since Meryl's contracted credit on her phone had mysteriously run out.
    We made our way back to the boat, collecting provisions on the way, and after a swift coffee, Rex requested permission to leave the harbour from the harbour master. It was granted immediately, and within minutes we were out in the Waddenzee.
    It felt good to be out on the sea again, with the tang of salt in our nostrils. Our plan was to reach Hindeloopen on the Ijsselmeer, entering that great expanse of water via the sea-lock at Den Oever, one of the two locks providing entry from the Waddenzee. Our route to Den Oever was well buoyed, skirting the Balgzand and Lutjeswaard sandbanks that dried out at low tide.

Sailing Ships on the Ijsselmeer

    Several trawlers were anchored around a large fish or mussel farm a short way off Balgzand, probably being loaded from smaller feeder craft. Many yachts were also heading our way down the ever narrowing channel to Den Oever, and similarly many vessels were heading our way from Den Oever. To complicate matters, some trawlers were actually fishing within the channel.
    We found ourselves with three other boats gilling about waiting to pass through the swing bridges before the lock. Those two bridges provided vehicle access between North Holland and Friesland via the Afsluitdijk. There were only four boats to enter from the Waddenzee, but about 24 boats left the lock bound for the Waddenzee, all speeding out and vying for pole position by the bridges; extremely completive crowd the continentals.
    We headed south-east from the lock for a short while to clear some shallows, and then steered a course to take us across the Ijsselmeeer to Hindeloopen. The water here was noticeably rougher. Numerous yachts criss-crossed our path, either heading to or returning from the other sea-lock at Kornwerderzand. In addition, similar to our last venture in these waters, many multi-masted old sailing vessels majestically ploughed along the same furrows as the yachts. Perhaps there was another regatta for them to reach.
    The tall church tower of Hindeloopen came into sight, standing proudly, guarding over the small, old town. We picked up the narrow channel entrance to the marina, with four other boats, and carefully manoeuvred Duonita to the pontoon by the harbour masters office. Registration was efficient and painless, and soon we were berthed in a box in a large marina.

Approaching Hindeloopen

    The marina had excellent facilities, and was close to the old town. Most of the information within the complex was written in Dutch and German, indeed there was a large contingency of Germans within the marina and town. As far as we could tell, we were the only British.
    In the gloomy light, we took a wander around the small conurbation of Hindeloopen, passing the small Hylper Haven Marina (Hindeloopen Frisians were natively called Hylpers) on the way. Its very official looking harbour master, an old man dressed in uniform with a peaked hat, wandered around the quayside clutching a book of tickets. The boats were rafted three deep, a nightmare if you are on the inside and want to leave at the crack of dawn.
    The village was a maze of delightful, narrow, cobbled streets, festooned with flowers and criss-crossed by small canals. The main drag was awash with arts and crafts shops. Pancake cafes abounded, and a sprinkling of museums provided interest for the enquiring mind. Most of the eating establishments were clustered near the marinas.
    It was here where we settled down for food and drink in the upstairs section of the Restaurant De Drie Harinkjes that looked across the Ijsselmeer. The temperature was dropping slightly, and a drizzle of rain began to fall. Despite that, some folk seemed determined to sit outside for their vittles; a hardy lot these Germans.
    We got back to Duonita during a gap in the drizzle. For some reason or other, I was totally whacked out, struggling to keep my eyes open. I just needed sleep. I explained it to Rex, who was quite understanding, and by 10pm I was sound asleep.