Netherlands/Germany Trip - Norderney      3rd June:

    A quick check of the wind forecast revealed we could make Vlieland in 18 - 20 hours, so without further ado we arrived at the diesel pump shortly after 8am. It was closed, despite a sign saying it opened at 8am!
    I precariously climbed on a guard rail of the boat and clambered up the side of the commercial quay. In desperation I asked a forklift driver passing by, and he helpfully pointed out a small building to me nearby. I entered the bunker like building, and a voice led me to an office inside, where a huge, gorilla of a chap dressed in a Hawaii shirt and cut-off trousers sat speaking into a phone. When he had finished his conversation, I asked him if he was open for diesel. "0f course I am," he boomed in a chuckle. He raised his colossal bulk from his chair and stomped out of the building, with me trotting along behind him.

Wind Turbine and Hub

    We reached the diesel pump and he opened a pair of steel shutters and reeled out a long fuel line which he passed down to Rex. "How much do you require?" he asked. "About 100 litres," was the reply. The giant proceeded to download the fuel into Duonita's tank, occasionally shouting out how many litres had been dispatched.
    Then he boomed out again, "I am over here." A man walking up to his building spun around, spotted him, and came across to chat. The fellow was a Geordie from the huge Offshore Wind Energy Generation catamaran vessel next to us. "Can I make an order for tomorrow?" asked Geordie. "How much?" replied giant man. "14,000 litres please," replied his potential customer. "No problem," replied the big fellow. Geordie disappeared off, a happy man. "I will have to bring a tanker in," the giant told me, grinning. Soon we had reached 112 litres, and he marched me off to his office for payment by card. He was very particular about giving me a receipt that would prove to a customs official that we had received white diesel (some countries, particularly Belgium, will fine vessels found to be carrying red diesel).
    And then we were skirting along the inshore channel in front Norderney town, being shaken by the wash of one of the windfarm service boats zipping by at 22 knots. Once in deeper waters, we turned to head west, passing four British naval vessels on exercise to our starboard.
    It was a grey, overcast day with a slight sea to plough into. The tops of the low lying Frisian Islands slowly slipped by on our port side. An occasional skein of geese flew by, and the odd seal popped his head up.
    We waved farewell to Juist, Borkum, Schiermonikoog and Ameland. Rex was on watch through the late afternoon when we caught up with Terschelling. Over the air waves he heard the call, "Sailing ship Duonita, sailing ship Duonita. This is NATO warship M357." The NATO vessels knew who we were, ie Duonita, because we now had an AIS transponder on board for the first year, which signalled details about our vessel. Rex immediately responded, "NATO warship, NATO warship. This is yacht Duonita." "Yacht Duonita, this is NATO warship M357. Go to Channel 08, over." Rex switched over to Channel 08, and heard a call come in again from the warship. Unfortunately they could not pick up Duonita's signal. The warship tried again several times, but all our replies never reached them. Thus Rex switched back to Channel 16, and informed the vessel that we could only transmit at 25 Watts on Channel 16, Channel 08 would have to be at 1 Watt which the naval vessel could not pick up,

Distant NATO Warship

    The military vessel instructed Rex to alter course by 40 degrees and steer a course of 230 degrees for three miles. Rex obliged, and later observed a small, stationary red RIB about a mile away from the anchored warship. Another warship lay at anchor a few miles away. What the exercise was we'll never know. Were we a real threat, I doubt it. After three miles along the diverted course, Rex asked for permission to resume his original course. The warship's reply was a simple, "OK." Rex was miffed, he never got a thank you.
    During all this time the wind had picked up, and Duonita was crashing noisily onto the oncoming waves, groaning with each thud. Sleeping was hard.
    Whilst still sailing by the long island of Terschelling, I took over the watch at 01:30. Lights on the distant horizon blazed from cargo ships ploughing along the shipping lanes. Several lighthouses flashed at us, and a myriad of blinking buoys and cardinal lights mapped our safe channels to take.
    I breathed in the fresh tangy air of the early hours, and gazed up at the celestial heavens. "Continuous as the stars that shine and twinkle on the Milky Way" sprang into my mind, then I went through the whole of "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth as we edged down the German Bight. But although the stars were out, it never really got totally dark. A deep blue permeated the sky, which gradually gave way to a delicate shade of pink at the horizon.
    A trawler steaming towards us gave me a new interest. I veered off course to avoid his nets, and he veered off in the same direction too. I silently cursed and veered more. Once he was safely behind me, all I had to do was keep clear of a survey vessel, then with clear waters ahead of us, I checked the charts for water depths, and cut all the corners. That should save us over an hour I thought. I manoeuvred us into the final run in through the treacherous channels, and set about putting the fenders out.
    Perhaps the noise of me clambering about on deck woke Rex up, and soon he was up, ticking me off about putting the fenders out alone on deck. Under an ever lightening sky we quietly motored into the marina at Vlieland. We eased our way up to the furthest end where we knew we could pick up a berth. At 05:15 (it had been a 21 hour leg, same as Tollesbury to South Holland) we silently entered an empty berth, tied up, and were soon in our bunks. Despite the boat now being stationary, I felt as though I was lying in a slowly spinning whirlpool.