Netherlands Trip - Leeuwarden      15th June:

Water Fowl on Lauwersmeer

    We were up with the lark, and slipped out of Jachthaven Noordergat and headed south down the Lauwersmeer. Gaggles of geese had organised themselves into early morning feeding parties, busily sifting, eating and gossiping like a party of old ladies out for lunch.

Deer in the Canal

About to Pass through Woudpoort Brug in Dokkum

    Swifts darted about, cuckoos boomed from afar, a bird of prey scanned the pastureland for a tasty morsel, coots bobbed about, a pair of grebes went through their mating dance ritual, herons stood motionless, and waterfowl sounds emanated from the vast reed beds that gently swayed and whispered in the breeze.
    In complete isolation, a sculpture park stood at the bottom of the mere in quiet solitude, its large, rusting, organically shaped components endeavouring to seek unity with their surroundings.
    We reached the lock into the canal system precisely on opening time. Admiral Nelson had timed our passage across the Lauwersmeer with exactitude. The orange filter had worked wonders.
    The journey to Dokkum from here was a rerun of our journey up the canal, it was the only route available to masted vessels. By the time we reached Dokkum, the breeze had become a stiff breeze, but we were finding it not too hazardous. An executive decision was taken in the ward room; we would carry on all the way to Leeuwarden.

Duonita in Leeuwarden

    We took this in our stride, despite the increasing wind strength which occasionally caused Duonita to heel over 10-15 degrees. A squall and deluge of rain welcomed us over a stretch of our journey, turning the canal into a white frenzy of seething, boiling water, as if we were traversing a series of rapids. Combined with the headwind, our windscreen had torrents of water running down it which the wipers just couldn't cope with. Visibility was poor at best.
    A brief respite from the monotony of returning along the linear route came from a deer that had got into the canal in an attempt to reach the opposite bank. Unfortunately, pilings on the opposite side made it impossible for him to climb out. We left him far behind us, still swimming along the canal looking for an easier way out. I do hope he made it.
    Our progress was halted for a while at a bridge just outside Burdaard. A seemingly endless convoy of trucks was crawling across the bridge. In the distance we heard music, and parked down the road leading to the bridge were scores of cars, their occupants also streaming across the bridge. It looked like an old newsreel footage showing endless lines of refugees plodding towards an unknown destination. We twigged there was a fete in the village, and we were waiting for the grand procession to slowly make its way across the bridge. Judging by the glistening countryside by the canal, the village had also experienced the deluge, but fortunately the sun was now winning through.
    We berthed by a bank opposite the Prinsestuin in Leeuwarden. After supermarket shopping, always a joy ("It is what it is"), we wound up the day with a walk across to The Oldehove, where teenagers were racing model cars around the large square above the underground car park. Then it was a delightful meal in a small, cosy restaurant overlooking the leaning tower.