Netherlands/Berlin Trip - Monnickendam      25th July:

    There had been claps of thunder through the night and a downpour. In the early morning I heard a duck waddling about the deck, or was it Rex parading around in flippers? By 9am clouds were scudding at a lick across the sky, and the tops of nearby trees were bowing to the wind. A few brave souls were fighting their way around the marina. We wouldn't be going far today.
    First priority was to go through our food stores and discard out-of-date items. I don't know why, but all boats seem to be small anomalies in the universe where food stocks assemble and experience a rapid time warp rendering them out-of-date. The words "small" and "fridge" spring to mind. Then Rex called Meryl, who had gone down with a terrible cold back in the UK. The poor lad was starting to fret and pine that she may not be able to make her return on Tuesday, but realised that we needed to take that as it comes.
    A few spatters of rain suddenly washed the boat windows. Crumbs, I need to get my towel in I thought. Looking at the empty rail where I had left the towel after my shower, I realised that a sudden gust had snatched it off the rail and whisked it away. I scanned the masts and rigging of surrounding vessels for the flapping towel, but it was nowhere to be seen. I cursed my stupidity for even contemplating putting my towel out to dry.
    Dodging showers, I made a foray into town to buy towels. Supermarkets do not sell such things in the Netherlands, well, not the sort of supermarkets we had encountered. The towels I did find in a small shop were only hand towels, so I gave it up as a bad job. Perhaps I will have better luck in a larger town, besides there were enough towels on board to tide me over.
    Meanwhile, Rex bravely trudged his way to the laundrette. He met a Dutch lady in the building and fell into conversation with her. Apparently her journey was taking her up to "Ach". It took quite a while for him to decipher that she was referring to Urk - they have a devilish dialect there, and he was experiencing it first-hand.

Calm after the Storm

    By 1pm, the storm arrived in earnest. Rain viciously lashed the marina and a howling gale was ripping off boughs and branches from trees on their knees, and hurtling the debris everywhere; a lethal environment to be out in. Boats were wildly rocking under the onslaught, and I could see how some folk could get seasick without even going out to see. We were glad we had secured Duonita well inside our allocated box.
    Rex was adamant he would finish his washing, and braved the elements to feed in ever more euros into the clothes drier. Had he lost his senses? I stayed on board and blasted out some blues music on the on-board Hifi system, it helped drown out the blustery din outside. Curiously, ducks constantly pecked at the grass on the banks; perhaps all the worms were surfacing to see what all the commotion was about. Apparently gusts of over 70mph were sweeping this part of the Netherlands.
    By 7pm the conditions had eased somewhat for us to venture into town. Tree and other debris were scattered all along our route, and the town seemed somewhat subdued after the storm. In the late evening, the boat felt cold and a little damp. We warmed ourselves up by indulging in a rare drop of whisky, and soothed our senses with more blues music before turning in. It had been a hell of a day.