Netherlands/Germany Trip - Vlieland      30th May:

    Through the night the wind picked up, whistling through the shrouds. By the time Rex arose at 7am, it was a furious Force 7. The sticker that had been stuck to one of our shrouds to indicate we had paid our dues, had been ripped off and was now gift wrapping a window of an adjacent boat.
    It was a given that today would be an odd job day and navigation planning. I headed up to pay the harbour master for another night, and fell into conversation with a lady and her husband. She pointed out the electronic weather display on the wall, trying to explain it to me. I diplomatically pointed out I already understood it. "What is your language?" she asked, "English, German?" "English," I answered. "Where do you come from?" "East Anglia," was the simple response. "But where?" "I come from Ipswich, and the captain comes from Tollesbury on the Blackwater Estuary," I explained. "Oh, we have sailed in that area. We sailed up the Orwell and visited the Butt and Oyster, and up the Deben too. Then we sailed to Southwold, Blakeney, Wells-next-the-Sea and King's Lynn. We did not like King's Lynn so much, it is like a little Poland." she added.
    We chatted a while about their trip. "Where are you based in Holland, and what route did you take?" I enquired. "We keep our boat in Den Oever," she said. "We sailed down the coast, then crossed to Ramsgate, and up to Burnham-on-Crouch. On the way back we sailed direct to Den Oever from King's Lynn."
    I set about picking their brains re our route up to Brunsbüttel. She mentioned Borkum, Nordeney and Heligoland as possible stop-off points. "If you go to Heligoland, you must approach it via the fairways, or they won't let you in. Also cross the shipping lanes at precisely 90 degrees, the Germans are very strict about that rule. You could find the tide useful if you travel from Heligoland up the Elbe."
    "I started sailing in the Waddenzee when I was 14 years old," she continued. I guessed she must have been my age. "My parents sailed too," she added, "but they are now in their 90s, so we acquired their boat 10 years ago. It is about the same size as your Westerley. We intend to sail off to Ameland today, the island the other side of Terschelling." Her husband had finished dealing with the harbour master, so we parted company.

"Vlieland Greets You" at the Narrow Marina Entrance On a Gloomy, Grey and Windy Day

    After breakfast, Rex and I engaged ourselves in a mundane laundry trip. However, the monotony of waiting for the machines to finish their cycles was dispersed when we took time out to watch brave souls leave and enter the marina. Yes, despite the current Force 6, folk were still venturing out onto the dangerous Waddenzee. A yacht entered with his jib still up, which was rather bizarre we thought. The craft then seemed to spring to life and perform a nose dive for a jetty before veering away in the last second. The craft then continued to motor in circles. It soon became apparent that they had problems with the jib, and it was alarmingly whipping about under the strong wind, the sheets writhing about like snakes with sore heads. A crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. The man on board screamed at his wife to take the helm while he tried to sort the jib out, but he only succeeded in making it worse. After a while the harbour master's assistant, who patrolled the marina in a small inflatable, got the helpless vessel onto a pontoon and facing the wind. Then it was possible for the skipper to lower his jib using the halyard.

Not Many Folk Braving the Winds to Walk the Sea Wall to Town

    Another boat tried to leave the marina with apparently only one person on board. In the harbour basin, he too started circling around, while the occupant peered over his stern. The smoke from his stern indicated he had his engine running, but there was no cooling water gushing out. There was a real danger his engine would overheat quickly if he did not sort the problem out. The patrol boat urged him to a pontoon in order to rectify the issue.
    The couple I had been chatting to earlier now appeared in their craft in the basin and started circling. They were clearly waiting for the chap who had the problem with his cooling system. Eventually, cooling water started gushing from their friend's boat, and both boats set off for their sail to Ameland.
    We enjoyed a coffee in the marina restaurant which afforded a grand view over the marina, watching boats depart and arrive until our laundry exercise was complete.
    Later, as I topped up Duonita with fresh water, a Dutch chap two boats down ambled up and asked if he could have the hose pipe after we had finished with it. We chatted for a while on the pontoon. "We keep our boat at Medemblik," he told me, "and we like to sail the children around the Ijsselmeer and the Baltic Sea." "Have you sailed south or across the North Sea?" I asked. "No, you then have tides to contend with, and since we have limited time, we prefer non-tidal areas such as the Ijsselmeer, Markermeer and the Baltic." I smiled, "Fortunately I am retired so I don't have the same time limitations, as is the captain. However, he has a wife, and she has allowed only a 5 week pass. We are aiming to get to Denmark, and perhaps Sweden." "You are going through the Kiel canal?" he asked. "Yes," I nodded. "Well you must be careful," he advised, "the yacht locks at both Brunsbüttel and Kiel are out of action, so you must use the large ship locks. Be careful of the lights. Ignore the red and green lights and only enter when the white lights show." I thanked the chap and let him set about topping up his own water tank.
    Whilst Rex took a shower, I hiked around the sea wall to the narrow marina entrance. The wind howled across the Waddenzee, and over the sea wall. As it whistled through the ships rigging the sound seemed to unify resulting in an effect not unlike a large celestial choir. The ferry for Harlingen gave a blast of its horn, and steamed out past the marina entrance to follow its tortuous route back to the mainland.

Sunshine at Last on the Main Street in Town

Mr Sunshine

    In the evening, the wind had died down, and we walked in sunshine to the town, and enjoyed a meal at 't Praethuys. It had more of a pub atmosphere than Restaurant de Richel where we dined the previous evening. As we sat at a very large oval shaped table, two little girls played Yangtze at the table while their parents and friends laughed and joked at the bar.
    Immediately opposite, a couple sat and ate their meal. When completed, the chap said something to us in what I thought was English, but didn't quite catch. He wore a T-shirt emblazoned with AUCKLAND, so I asked him he came from that city. "No, we are Dutch," he replied. We learned they were father and daughter and kept their boat in Koudum, near Hindeloopen. They were enjoying a spot of sailing around the Frisian Islands, and were now waiting for the father's wife to come across with the ferry to join them. We chatted about our trip, and discussed the wind forecast. He voiced an opinion, "The Windy website is slightly more accurate than Windfinder."
    It was getting late, we bade our farewells, and stepped outside into a shower. We sheltered for a while at the ferry terminal until it eased, then walked briskly back to the marina. As we left the sea wall to enter the marina, I could hear Rex mentioning about his trousers getting soaked ....... hey ho.