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International
Rally 2011
.....Adventures in the Netherlands by Dick Harrington |
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From:
Richard Harrington
To:
Hans de Bruijne et al
Sent:
Thursday, October 13, 2011 2:28 PM
Subject:
Adventures in the Netherlands
Dear Hans and Lous,
This has been a very busy year for me. Following the
NWA Friesland Rally - a wonderfully memorable cruise - Jane
and I spent the next week in the Netherlands and
Belgium. Unfortunately, when we finally returned
home there were just a few days before having to depart for
Maine, where I was responsible for
helping kick off the North
American Rally. So, it's been a lot of activity
compressed into a short time for an old guy like me.
Consequently, I find that nearly two months
have flown by, in a flash, since departing the
Netherlands - much too long to go without a proper reply to
such wonderful hospitality we enjoyed from the NedWA
Wayfarers. I am deeply sorry, but will will try to
redeem myself, if possible.
Note: Because of space limitations, I'm not sure how much of
this will be able to be published in the USWA Skimmer. I
know that Uncle Al will post it on the Canadian Web site; and
I'm expecting some, or all, of it to get published in one of
our smaller US boating magazines.
My report.
Adventures
in the Netherlands
An
adventure story - not a log!
In times past, old
salts were known for spinning yarns about the sea. Sometimes I
imagine myself being one of those old timers. I enjoy the opportunity to
tell a story about a Wayfarer adventure.
On this occasion
Jane and I were on
the coast of Maine - attending the North American Rally at Hermit
Island. It was the end of August, less than two weeks
after returning from the Netherlands and Belgium. My audience was our
group of Wayfarer friends who traveled from distant
parts of the US and Canada to take part in a week of
camaraderie and great sailing on beautiful Casco Bay. At the skippers'
meeting one morning, I saw the chance to have some fun. We
were supposed to be discussing sailing plans for the
day. But first I decided to make believe I
was back at the International Rally
in Friesland. No one was expecting this.
Holding up the
sailing chart of Friesland, I began my act. No one
would be able discern any detail, but as a group
they could follow my finger as I traced the route of our
week-long travels. To the unfamiliar, the maze of
countless waterways shown in blue
- a web of canals connecting one lake after
another - was surely mind boggling. I knew, at least
momentarily, I had everyone's attention.
Our first day on
the water was a free sail. The principal part of
the rally - the cruise - had not yet started. Jane and
I had arrived in Heeg (pronounced
Hage) two days prior. To do something different,
we came by train from Düsseldorf, instead of
going through Amsterdam.
Following the
long transatlantic flight, the train ride was kind
of stressful. It entailed multiple
changes between several local routes. The trains
were pokier and the process more complicated than I had
anticipated. In spite of that, riding the train was a new
and intriguing experience. Passing through northern Germany
and the Netherlands exposed us to a countryside with
sights far different than anything at home. We
were already getting excited about this adventure.
Except, there was little opportunity to close our
eyes. As chief navigator, it was good I had managed to
catch some sleep on the plane. We were in a strange
country, unaccustomed to the trains, and challenged to
decipher the postings at the
rail stations. Thankfully, along the way we
encountered a number of nice people, who spoke English and
were willing to help
with directions.
The sky was
mixed, with more clouds than
blue, threatening possible rain. But, what
most impressed Jane and me was the chilly 18 -
20 knot breeze coming up from the south. The Heegermeer was rolling. Hard to
fathom, we were wearing fall-weight fleece jackets beneath our
oilies. It was July! We'd just arrived
from the US where temperatures hovered around 30° Celsius
(90°F to 100°F) for weeks. Though I should have
known better, we weren't prepared. Luckily, the day
before, Jane had reluctantly
agreed to upgrade her gear. Her new
heavy-duty Netherlands style sailing fleece was
an unplanned expenditure, but a
wise decision. So now we were prepared for
the Friesland weather.
Ton Jaspers was the
skipper that day. Ton is a big husky guy. So with the
three of us in his Wayfarer Swiebertje, we were
well-ballasted. No need to reef! Conditions were ideal
for a record fast passage down the full length of the sizable Heegermeer. Starting
out from the harbor, Heegerwal, we arrived at Nieuwe Vaart
- the narrows at the south end of the lake - in no time flat.
The beat, being a bit splashy, had Jane
suffering the brunt of the spray. She now had
a better appreciation for being fully
dressed in oilies head to toe. At the
narrows, it was time to change the pace. Tying up alongside the wharf, we paused long enough
to chat a little and enjoy an excellent Dutch
beer. The downwind
return went even faster, being essentially one planing event followed by another. This time,
fortunately, Jane was spared the dousing. Wow! What
sailing!
Before going further,
for the benefit of my North American readers it is important that
I note what a huge undertaking, both financially and personnel-wise,
this event amounted to. The Netherlands Wayfarer
Association (NedWA) went far out on a limb planning this
event. Their reason? They wanted to do something
special to mark the tenth university of the birth of NedWA. It was hugely
successful.
During the cruise we
had two "mother" ships, the In Dubio - a 12-cabin converted motorized barge, and the Atalanta
- a 10-cabin schooner-rigged sailing ship. Between them, the two ships accommodated a total of 43 participants. There
were 18 or 20 Wayfarers (I don't remember the exact
number). Jan Katgerman, the NedWA Chairman, provided outstanding fleet support and
safety from his handsome and powerful motor launch, Twee
Gezusters (Two Sisters). Twee Gezusters proved
capable of towing more than a dozen Wayfarers at a time with ease.
There were two US and
one Canadian couples from overseas. Each had a NedWA 'buddy' to assist them. Previously, in
2006, Ton and Connie Jaspers had hosted my wife, Margie, and
me. They insisted upon doing the same again this time.
Even though they would be unable to participate in the
cruise portion of the rally, they met Jane and
me in Heeg with floatation vests,
sailing clothing, and most importantly, Ton's beautiful Swiebertje. We
would get to enjoy Swiebertje for the duration of the
cruise. When it came time for us to depart, Connie
also provided us with transportation. So we are greatly
indebted to them. The others were treated equally well, I
know.
Each day, or two, the
cruise ships sailed ahead of us to the next destination point. We
would meet up with them in the afternoon.
Many miles would be sailed each day; and by the end of the week we
had completed a large circular orbit, passing through many of the
lakes and canals in this portion of Friesland.
All aspects of the
cruise were thoroughly planned out ahead of time and executed
perfectly. Hans and Lous de Bruijne were the
leaders throughout the cruise. They were true workhorses, performing admirably the leadership
role and organizing this highly complex undertaking. Jan
Katgerman, with his wife, Dieuwke, were obviously closely involved throughout.
Other prominent NedWA
members, such as Joke Peers and Francine van der Vaart, two who are most familiar to me,
also provided valuable group support.
Still pretending to
be in Friesland, I continued. After a couple of days of
preliminary activities in Heeg - which included an
excellent traditional Dutch BBQ, a sail on the Atalanta, and a kick-off banquet - the first day of
the cruise arrived. Following breakfast, we
packed our lunches and departed Heegerwal.
The sun shone brightly, warming
the air. The fleeces were tucked away. It was a
perfect summer day.
Our
route would initially take us southeast, across the top of
Heegermeer and through a series of canals passing through the
town of Woudsend, lake Slotermeer, and
ancient, historic Sloten. We would stop at
Sloten for a picnic lunch and sight-seeing.
A lasting first impression that
seemed to connect with all of us non-NedWA participants was the large number of youth
sailing schools we saw. The Heegermeer
was especially alive this way. But we would see
numerous sailing schools all throughout our travels.
As soon as we got outside Heegerwal, we were surrounded by youngsters of various ages
from at least three or four sailing schools. The sailors ranged from very young children in
small Optimists to older, more advanced kids in jib & main
sloops, practicing capsize recovery skills. Hovering
over their fleets, like a mother goose herding her
goslings, instructors motored about shouting instructions.
We were impressed!
The morning's 10-knot or
so southerly breeze promised good progress, though
later it would mostly peter out. The first fairly narrow couple
of canals passed through a picturesque country side. Cows
and sheep grazed contentedly in grassy
meadows bordered by marshy
areas. The canals made lots of turns. This
affected our wind, but made for far more interesting
sailing than if they ran straight. Quaint, interesting summer
cottages lined the banks. Moored in
front were attractive Dutch yachts and small craft of
all descriptions. We wondered what interesting new scene
might lie around the next bend. The Dutch, who consider Friesland
the boating mecca of northern Europe, flock there in
droves every summer. Besides that, there is a lot
of influx from adjoining countries, especially Germany. So, with
it being the peak of the holiday season, there were lots of people
about. A few times we noticed an arm wave from
someone on shore. Jane and I tried to respond when
we could. Was it possible they noticed the
American flag Ton had graciously attached to Swiebertje's peak?
At
the time, we were on a southerly heading, having to do
quite a bit of tacking. Pretty soon I got a feel for how
much centerboard we dared leave down and still manage to get in close
to the bank before having to tack. Of course, inevitably, every
now and then there was a mad scramble to get the board up before we
came to a complete stop - buried in the mud! Fortunately, one
rarely hits something that is hard. Further
complicating things however, was the steady stream
of on-coming motoring traffic. Sometimes there would be
three or four good-sized boats headed toward us in
procession. Learning
to cope with this amount of traffic was a unique
experience!
Comment: There are two notable aspects concerning
motorboat traffic in Friesland that is completely
different from anywhere I've been in the United States.
First, high-speed travel is prohibited
everywhere, except for a few closely regulated districts on lakes. PWCs
(Personal Water Craft) are noticeably absent. Also, because there is no
high-speed traffic on the canals, there are minimal wakes to contend with. Notably, the majority of
Dutch yachts we encountered had efficient displacement type
hulls - rounded and
slender, not the
boxy, less efficient planing type we see in America.
Secondly, Dutch boaters exhibit outstanding
courtesy.
Sometimes,
in a tight situation, out of common sense and consideration for
others, we felt compelled to luff up or tack away. But
for obvious reasons, one doesn't want to do this on a regular
basis. So we quickly learned to judge when it
was safe to pass in front of, or duck behind, an on-coming
vessel. We felt comfortable that if there was any
question the other vessel would alter course or reduce
speed. In times of heavy traffic there were a
few occasions when power boats had to make adjustments
for Jane and me. I'm sure that was the case with others as
well. In such situations, a
big smile and appreciative wave to the opposing bridge
was definitely in order. So, as you see, the canals
were great fun, but also busy to the point
where the helm had to pay close attention to his/her
sailing.
Arriving in the
town of Woudsend brought us to the first of
several bridges for the day. With four canals
intersecting there, we encountered an impressive traffic
jam as we approached the bridge.
Comment: To the
unaccustomed sailor, transiting a bridge in lots of congestion could be
daunting. Even with all my experience, I admit to feeling a bit nervous
a couple of times. Under the best of circumstances, rarely,
if ever, can one sail through a bridge. In light traffic,
sometimes paddling works, but as a rule a motor is
required. In our situation, Wayfarers without motors
either got towed by Twee Gezusters or another
Wayfarer with a motor.
Then there is the
toll! Not all, but most bridges collect a
toll. So, when passing beneath a bridge, the
attendant from his bridge house drops a wooden shoe
attached by a string to a pole to collect his 2 euros.
(This can make a favorite photo opportunity.) Though the
attendants are deft in placing the shoe where it can
be reached, one still has to pay
close attention and be ready. There are more than a few
euros lying in the mud!
It turned out the bridge at Woudsend was our big
challenge of the day. The bridge was down, with
a jumble of boats, large and small, packing the
canal for several hundred meters on either side -
treading water and waiting! Following what would be the
usual procedure, we furled the jib, tightened the topping lift, then dropped and furled the
main. This generally went without a hitch, quickly and
easily. Ton had everything on Swiebertje nicely set up for single-handling,
and I really like his Bartels
jib reefing system. With the topping
lift holding the boom high, manning the four-stroke Honda
engine would be no sweat. Except this was my first
time using it!
Oh, no! The
motor started fine on the first pull - at half throttle
- but died immediately when cut back to idle
speed. Repeated tries gave the same result. Surrounded by
obstacles, there we were, one moment dashing - way too
fast - head-on for an impending crash, or dead in the
water being blown towards shore. It was
unbelievable! Just before the cruise, Ton had taken the motor
into the shop where it was declared fit to go. My nerves
were a wreck. What should I do?
By a stroke of
luck, I happened to spy a big boat, with fairly low
freeboard, tied along side the waterfront. This seemed to
be our best bet. We would chance hanging onto her
gunnel while waiting for the bridge. Putting a line
around a stanchion and setting out fenders, we prayed no
one would come along and kick us off. Meanwhile, though
the bridge signal lights still showed red, the
bridge opened, but only long
enough to let some traffic from on the other side
pass through. Then it closed again.
Gosh! I began to wonder
how long we'd be stuck hanging on there.
Finally, something
started to happen. "There, Jane, see! We
are getting the initial go ahead lights"...one red, one
green blinking - or something like that. (It is a good
system, but unfortunately I've since forgotten the exact
signal sequence.) Anyway, what it
meant was get ready! On the canal the jockeying to get
in position had started. Then the bridge was up
and boats were moving. Spotting a
small opening, with heart pounding I
barged into the foray,
unceremoniously cutting off some good folks ahead of
us. It certainly wasn't a nice maneuver. Again, we
were going much too fast, yet somehow managed to avoid
a collision. What a relief!
We'd made it!
On the other
side, the wind was light and on our nose. By
now many of the others in the group were ahead of
us. Wanting to make up time and get through that section of
canal, provided an excuse to stay on the engine for a
while. Finally, free to run, the engine purred like a
kitten, pushing us along at around 5 knots. (Following
a day or two of exercise, the Honda changed its
ways, deciding to run at idle speed.
I even got to like that engine.) Just ahead was lake
Slotermeer, and beyond that the town of Sloten, where we would stop
for lunch.
In the US we brag about our freedom. But in many parts
of Europe, particularly the Netherlands, the boating public has far
more rights to the shore. Almost any open space along the canals
is free to use. More importantly, scattered generously throughout the lakes
and canals are numerous designated camping places, where dinghy sailors
are free to tie up to bulkheads or docks, and camp. As we
traveled the canals and lakes we couldn't help but admire these attractive camp
sites. They always appeared well manicured,
grassy, and located in a quiet spot - perfect for any
cruising dinghy, such as a Wayfarer - or a Falcon!
Falcons! This was
the most prominent sailboat we'd encounter throughout the
cruise. We saw them on the water every day. It
seems to me there must be at least a thousand
Falcons in Friesland; and every one for hire. A
classic, low aspect ratio, gaff rigged sloop - about 6.5 meters
long and with a substantial keel - the Falcon is bigger,
heavier, and more stable than the Wayfarer. They can be rented with a
cockpit-tent, motor and all, ready
to take visiting vacationers on a cruising
adventure. It would be pretty difficult to get into serious
trouble with a Falcon, I think. But it is slow compared
to a Wayfarer.
Sometimes it was
comical to watch three or four young people in a Falcon, who
were obviously little more than beginners, struggling to make
progress on the canals. In our Wayfarers, we would
easily zip past them. Though, that may have surprised
or frustrated a few of them, the Falcon sailors always seemed
to be a happy crowd, having a jolly time just being on the
water. Another unique aspect of the Netherlands!
Towing one of our
fellow Wayfarers, we caught up with the main group, already tied up
and just a short walk outside Sloten. Sloten, Sneek
(pronounced Snake), Workum, and Hindeloopen, a few places
I've been to, are marvelously well preserved, historic
towns. They are extremely fascinating to see. My
knowledge is minuscule, but as I recall, Sloten is situated
on what was an ancient trade route and became a prominent merchant
center, starting around the 16th century. Today, it is like
a living museum, with fascinating old business houses built
in the sixteen and seventeen hundreds, adorned with
fascinating carved stone decorations. The
buildings line both sides of a canal that runs through the
center of the town. It also boasts
a beautiful, well preserved windmill. Unfortunately, whereas
one could easily spend a whole day in Sloten, we could afford little
more than an hour - just enough time to take a few great photos.
The day was wearing
on. We still had a long ways to go, including a couple more
bridges, before joining up with the cruise
ships anchored on Lake Langweer. Our route, now
swinging northerly, put the wind behind
us. Meaning, of course, less tacking and easier
sailing. Here, my memory becomes foggy, but I think,
though there were times when the wind picked
up, ultimately there was a fair amount of
motoring. Anyway, as always, Jane and I thoroughly enjoyed the scenery along the
way.
When
we at last reached the mother ships, it was getting late.
Shouldn't it be cocktail hour, my brain told me?
Already, a while back, our thoughts had wandered to
In Dubio's well stocked saloon
- which now beckoned. I could really
go for a cold beer. Jane certainly wouldn't mind a
glass of wine. But before any of that happened, we had
to moor the Wayfarers.
This would
be our first time tying up alongside the big vessels.
Frankly, up to then I hadn't thought much about
the complications of snuggling 18 to 20 Wayfarers, plus
Jan's Twee Gezusters against those unforgiving iron
hulks, anchored and warped together. I wasn't
alone in this regard . Suddenly, it dawned
upon the bunch of us, this was going to take a little thought.
No
way was there room to tie up individually. We were going to have to raft up, alongside both
ships, side by side, two and three abreast. The faces
of a few of the skippers with beautiful, brightly
finished woodies, as well as the owners of costly, shinny,
new Hartleys, dropped. They
were rightfully concerned. Rafting together
a number of light-weight dinghies
is not the same as dealing with heavier displacement
type hulls. Wayfarers tip and bounce much too easily,
even in a relatively sheltered location with minimal
wave action.
But
the irresistible urge to partake of a cold beer, or
glass of wine, after a day on the water can work
wonders. Everyone pitched in and worked together. Out came
many fenders. Long lines were brought back to the
ships, and spring lines judiciously set in all
directions. Before long all were satisfied.
A pattern was established for the remainder of the
cruise. Problem solved!
We
were through sailing for the day, but the day was not done by any
means. The In
Dubio's large open
foredeck, and spacious saloon, was our congregating place for cocktail
hour and socializing. In the dinning room below, Hanna - In Dubio's owner, chief cook, and crew of one - served
us great meals. Hanna, whom I declare an outstanding
chef - if that's permissible for a ship's cook
- constantly surprised us with
beautiful, outstanding multi-course dinners - Dutch style!
One of my favorite Dutch discoveries is Mustard Soup. How
could a dish so named be so delicious! It was our duty
and pleasure to assist with the serving and clean-up afterward.
The great thing
about these rallies is that our gang is akin to
a long-time family. We are old friends, going
back twenty years, maybe more - though
at each succeeding event there are always new
acquaintances to be made. Following dinner, all would retire to
the saloon, where the first order of business was to break out the
song books. Leading the singing, with guitar(s),
clarinet, and sax were long-time members, Poul, Elof,
Sue and Alan - plus several others
too. They are our own official Wayfarer musical
group - The Wayfarer Stompers.
The first song -
always - is the Wayfarer fanfare. Sung to a lilting melody, it
goes: Wayfarer - Wayfarer, Finest dinghy ever seen!
Wayfarer - weather fair. Really makes me feel so keen. Do
wake up from your lazy sleep. Sail your Wayfarer out on the
deep. Wayfarer - Wayfarer, Finest dinghy ever seen! Verses are then repeated in Danish, Dutch
and French. Wow! What a life, Wayfarering!
DICK
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