Netherlands/Germany Trip - Enkhuizen      10th June:

    There had been a good downpour around 5am, but when we arose it was sunny but fresh.
    We decided to head across the Ijsselmeer to Enkhuizen. Just as Rex started the engine up, and I went to the bow to handle the ropes, our German neighbour started a conversation. "You are going now?" "Yes, we are sailing across to Enkhuizen today, and later to Hoorn." "Hoorn is a lovely place," he replied. "Yes, we have been there a couple of times before," I responded. "But you must be careful this time of year in the Markermeer. In the shallow waters near Monickendam, Edam and Hoorn, a weed grows and floats on the water. It can damage your screw," which I took to mean either the propeller or the water inlet impeller. "Also, on the buoyed route between Lemmer and Amsterdam there is a new wreck, and the channel becomes very narrow." I could see out of the corner of my eye Rex bouncing up and down anxious to leave. I thanked the chap profusely, bade our farewells, and cast off.
    Soon we were sailing in a Force4/5 with the jib only. 1m high waves crashed up our stern. It was a cracking sail with the wind behind us; a "soldiers wind" according to Rex. Umpteen other yachts were heading in the same direction, obviously all heading to Enkhuizen or its sluis. We learned later the reason for so many yachts out on the Ijsselmeer, it was a public holiday.

Zwaanstraat Bridge over the Oosterhaven

    Each time a gust arrived, the boat pitched about before settling again. Vessels travelling in the opposite direction were having to beat, with waves crashing over their bows as they bounced painfully into the wind and waves.
    After 4 hours, we arrived at Enkhuizen, and this time opted for the Compagnieshaven Marina, where we had stayed in the past. This marina was much bigger than the Buyshaven, with better facilities.
    Thankfully the marina was clearly laid out, pointing visitors down a long fairway to a pontoon with a hut on it. As we gently chugged up to it, a smartly dressed lad with a white shirt and clipboard popped out of the hut to greet us in Dutch, and ask for the dimensions of the boat. I shouted the information across, he scanned his clipboard, and assigned a berth for us. We moored effortlessly into a box. I soon popped down to the harbour master's office to pay our dues. On the way back, an elderly couple were pointing out to their grandson a couple of grebe chicks on their mother's back.
    An endless stream of boats followed us into the marina, and were also efficiently appointed berths for the night; quite a slick operation I thought. One very large yacht seemed to be heading towards the hammerhead next to where we were berthed. I spotted the Dutch skipper and pointed to this hammerhead; he nodded. Rex and I climbed onto his proposed berthing place and took his ropes. He was very thankful, he was sailing single handed. "I haven't really done anything," piped up Rex. The chap laughed. "Welcome to Holland," was my greeting. "Welcome to Europe," he chuckled, "or for the time being." He burst into laughter again, in a good natured way.
    Rex still wasn't feeling 100%, so he opted to lie down for a rest while I went for a hike into the centre of town to take in the sights again. I crossed the Oosterhaven by the Zwaanstraat Bridge and shortly arrived at the Stadhuis.

Stadhuis

St Pancraskerk

    The 17th century town hall is the first example of the pileless architecture, which was introduced in the Netherlands after 1672. The town hall was built in 1686-1688 to a design by the Amsterdam architect Steven Vennekool, a student of Jacob van Campen. There is therefore some similarity between the Enkhuizer city hall and the palace on Dam Square in Amsterdam. The building has been altered very little since then, with an elegant, Neo-classical facade. It is still used by the city council even today. To the left of the entrance stands a cannon cast in Mechelen, captured in 1622 from Dunkirk hijackers. Vondel describes this event in a poem that hangs above the cannon. On the balcony in the opened law book, is a replica of the certificate for granting the Poortrecht to Enkhuizen on April 4, 1356 by the count of Holland. "Candide et Constater" on the facade means "Righteous and Persevering".
    The tall St Pancraskerk towered above the town. Dating from the early 15th century, the tower was built in 1450 and heightened between 1518 and 1526 by the addition of an octagonal upper section and an onion dome.

Former Post Office

    By the church stood a handsome building which attracted my attention. An elderly chap observed me admiring the building, and stopped to inform me, "That was the Post Office. It is 100 years old. Now people live on the 1st floor, and a solicitor has an office on the ground floor."
    Pointing to St Pancraskerk, he commented, "That church was paid for by the fishermen." I responded, "I think I remember that. The fishermen paid for it, since a light would be lit at the top of it to serve as a beacon." The chap then went on to tell me, "There were two types of people in Enkhuizen: fishermen and farmers. There is another church in the town, with the spire made out of wood now on the ground." "Yes, a lady told me a few years ago that when building the church, they decided the church would not withstand the huge weight of the bells. Therefore a separate tower was built on the ground." "They could not afford to carry on and build a brick tower, so they chose wood instead," was his version.

St Gomaruskerk

    I carried on to the other church, the 400 year old St Gomaruskerk, a Gothic hall-church with timber vaulting not quite as tall as St Pancraskerk. Beside it stood an odd looking wooden tower. A sign I read said that it was the church bell tower. Between the church and the bell tower stood the verger's house, with a fine stepped gable of 1600.

Weeshuis

    I continued on my quick hike down Westerstraat, the main drag, and back again. It was whilst heading back that I came alongside the Weeshuis (orphanage). A woman stood in front of a sign attached to the railings that fronted the pretty building. When she saw me about to take a picture of it, she turned to me and asked, "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" "I am English," I smiled back. "Oh, do you know what this word 'Weeshuis' means?" "It means orphanage, think of wee children," I joked with her. She looked at me with a quizzical smile, not sure whether to believe me or not. Then she spotted the carved stone relief above the doorway depicting an interior scene of the orphanage, with half the children reading, and the other half doing more practical work. She laughed out loud at how she had missed the obvious, thanked me, and resumed her tour.

Varied Architectures

    A band of rain came in, so I hastily made my way back to Duonita for a change into dry clothing. Rex was much chirpier now, well enough to venture into town in the evening. We sat outside a bar and watched a gaggle of German lads try and order Heinekens. The waiter was not fooled by their laddish pleas of being old enough to drink and refused to serve them beer. They were soon drinking Cokes, and no fuss was made by them.
    As it started to pour, we went around the corner to a charming, warm restaurant, the Grand Cafe Restaurant van Bleiswijk., and enjoyed onion soups and salads. It was still pouring when we left and returned to Duonita. The boat was now filling up with wet and damp clothing.