It has been a case of ‘all change’ in the week following our departure from Ooltgensplaat. Although the sky was mainly clear as we departed there was a definite end of summer feel to the weather as we sailed to the Volkeraksluis ready to sail up through into the Hollandsch Diep.

We had prepared and passage planned rather more carefully for this part of the trip as we move into some very busy shipping areas. Part of this preparation was to revisit the CEVNI regulations which sit alongside, but mainly overrule the COLREGS on Europe’s inland waterways. Generally the CEVNI regulations make perfect sense but there are some additions and some anomalies.

An approaching boat can reverse the ‘port side to port side’ passing rule by displaying a blue board or a scintillating white light to starboard, requiring you to pass starboard to starboard. Most confusing of all is the ‘orientation’ rule. Travelling up river, green starboard hand buoys will be, as you would expect, on your starboard (right) side, but they are adjacent to the left bank!

Under the CEVNI rules we are a ‘small vessel’, all of the commercial ships are ‘normal vessels’. The rules are simple, a small vessel must never impede a normal vessel. Might is right!

This stuff is very important however as we are now moving into busy waters so the CEVNI handbook is always to hand. To reinforce this we find ourselves in the Volkeraksluis with a big barge, being the only yacht approaching the lock and with no locals to follow we were unsure what to do but opted to tie up (well) behind the barge, this turned out to be the correct course of action as he slewed his stern out prior to exiting, which would have squashed us had we been alongside him. We were however quickly out of the lock and into the Hollandsch Diep, the last of the wide, sail-able waters that we would encounter for some time. If the Veerse Meere is like lake Windermere and the Oosteschelde is like coastal sailing the Hollandsch Diep feels a lot like playing on the motorway!

Belinda decided that we would vary the passage plan and cross the main shipping channel from south to north immediately after the lock, on the grounds that it was narrow and barge traffic was light, this turned out to be the correct decision but I’d have quite liked time to acclimatise first.

In an increasingly strong following wind and building cloud we sailed under full mainsail only, switching to genoa only as a squall overtook us to the eastern end of the Hollandsch Diep, where we turned north into the encouragingly named Dordsche Kil, the first of the proper canals. It really helps to have local boats to follow in the canals but the locals on this leg of the trip really didn’t help. A yacht motoring ahead of us, on the expected starboard side of the channel repeatedly turned across the channel into a ‘no entry’ commercial port, presumably looking for fuel; a small motorboat was travelling up the ‘wrong’, port, side of the channel, making us wonder if we had made some mistake. Eventually we overtook the yacht while he was in yet another commercial harbour and the motor vessel was detained at length by a substantial police launch. We imagined the conversation “look! even the bloody British can sail on the correct side of the canal”.

There is one remaining obstacle to our passage into Dordrecht and this is the huge lifting railway bridge. Some bridges, especially railway ones understandably don’t open on demand, you have to time your arrival to coincide with their timetable, this we had achieved by careful planning and reference to the almanaak, we were soon safely through. These bridges look terrifying but essentially you wait until they open, then you motor through, avoiding all of the other traffic and not delaying the bridge. Simple.

A quick phone call by Belinda and we had secured a berth in the outstanding Maartensgat Jachthaven, one of our absolutely favourite places, and we were soon snug in a berth right outside the Havenmeisters office ready for the next couple of days of our adventure.

At this stage you should note the small boat at the bottom left of the photo with the buff coloured cover and the barge at the top left with the red flag …………………………..

Our next off-piste adventure was to take us to a small port that we had discovered in 2017 on the Grevelingenmeer called Ooltgensplaat. We called in out of necessity then but loved it and decided it was a must visit destination this year.

Without tides to consider passage planning is fairly straightforward but I am making a habit of allowing an hour for each of the big locks, they often take less, and if you hit them just right you might get through in 20 minutes. Time in hand though means more time for sailing, meaning that we can meander along with the locals as slowly as we like.

This may seem a bit odd but, living in a drying harbour as she does Flamingo is not used to being in the water all of the time, as a result marine growth is kept to a minimum in a normal season. She has now been afloat almost continuously for six weeks and is beginning to collect some interesting Dutch marine life. I suspect that this may be the cause of the log (speedometer) reading low, as a result we are becoming more reliant on the GPS for speed measurement. A trip under the boat with the scrubbing brush may be called for when I get the chance.

Anchor up at Sint Phillipsland and away by 0840 was a bit of a shock after so many days of setting off when we chose. With the wind forecast at WNW Force 3 we looked like being in for cracking day’s sail, but we needed to motor out of the Krabbenkreek to make the best of our day. As we motored Belinda phoned the Havenmeister at Ooltgensplaat who appeared to not understand a word of what she was saying but ended up repeating ‘ya you are welcome, you must come‘. Beam reaching under full sail and sunny skies we made good progress along the Mastgat, past Zijpe and up to the Kammersluis in just under an hour. On this occasion transiting the lock did take up most of the allocated hour but we were out and sailing dead downwind by in the Grevelingenmeer by 1115.

The Grevelingenmeer is much more like river sailing than the Oosterchelde with both tree lined banks clearly visible in the bright sunshine, in fact it felt a lot like an oversized river Orwell near Pin Mill.

Opting to sail under genoa only we then broad reached SE and then beam reached NE, keeping to the correct starboard (south) side of the main channel until two miles before Ooltgensplaat where we crossed to the north side to avoid a messy crossing further along where the channel widens.

As we get closer to Rotterdam the commercial traffic, in the form of loose cargo (often scrap metal) barges, gas container ships (with big No Smoking signs) and small container ships become more and more common. They stick religiously to the main channels but it adds to the challenge of navigating safely. Most of these vessels house a complete family, with a homely looking single storey accommodation unit at the back and a car, with its attendant crane slung on deck. We even saw one with a children’s slide on deck, I want one of those.

On the way up the Grevelingenmeer we spotted a tiny harbour called Galatheese Haven which looked intriguing, with a cool looking clubhouse and room for about four boats; Navionics claimed that there was 1m of water alongside which is too little even for us, so we continued. As we worked our way NE the wind began to pick up to the point where it was blowing quite freshly as we approached Ooltgensplaat harbour entrance. When I say harbour entrance I mean sign post next to a tiny gap in the trees. Getting into this harbour was worrying second time around, how we got in here last time without any guidance is a mystery, I suppose years of creek crawling in Norfolk helps.

About a quarter of a mile up the tree lined, narrowing and shallowing creek is the tiny port, by the time we got to a berth the echo sounder was showing 1.2m and the keel was half way up, further hindering manoeuvrability, especially with the wind now dead on the nose.

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With a bit of advice from a local we were moored up safely by 1445 in sunny and warm weather.

Ooltgensplaat is tiny but lovely; 20 minutes is plenty, so we got the bikes out and to our delight discovered that a cycle route would take us directly to Galatheese Haven just 7.1km away; so off we went. It was a lovely sunny evening but there was the beginning of a chill in the wind that blew in our faces all the way there. On arrival we found the tiny harbour that we had expected and a lovely restaurant/bar with lots of locals having a Sunday evening meal whilst enjoying the view. Much to my delight they also had a full sized barge in the play area, with a slide!

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After a very pleasant hour we headed back, reaping the benefits of having cycled into the wind on the way there as each of us engaged ‘gear 3’ on the Bromptons, a rare occurrence on the flat.

The following day we opted for a longer cycle ride to Willemstad, one of the must see towns in the pilot book. The cycle path was up to the expected standard in the Netherlands, taking us 28km across the bridge over the Volkerak Sluis that we would be using the next day. Seen close up from a bicycle you begin to understand the scale of the civil engineering achievement that the Dutch have created. The Volkerak Sluis is no different to many of the other locks that we have passed yet it consists of: a small yachtsluis; two much larger commercial locks; sluicing arrangements for controlling the water level; a three lane lifting bridge for the motorway and a smaller road including the cycle track; waiting pontoons and a free marina for small craft.

Immediately that you arrive in Willemstad it becomes evident why it is on everybody’s list to visit. It is impossibly pretty, spotless and while we were there the sun shone relentlessly.

Encouragingly anybody can moor in the picturesque Binnenhaven if they arrive early enough, indeed there was a small British boat there trying to shelter from the sun behind a big sun shade (tarpaulin).

On the way back we called at Ooltgensplaat beach, which consists of a neat grassy area with picnic tables, a children’s sandy beach and a bathing platform, all free to use. The Netherlands really seems to be run for the benefit of the people with outstanding free facilities provided everywhere we go. It really seems to promote family values and a calm, tolerant attitude.

Our next day’s sailing will be our last proper sail for a while as we move into the canals. We also have to decide where we are going next, up to now our route has been fairly predictable.

After six days in the Netherlands we have managed to move a total of 7.5NM from our point of entry as the crow flies. At this rate we are unlikely to make it to our planned destination of Texel, the western most of the Frisian islands which is another 104NM. We have managed to sail rather more than 7.5NM though, and we are having a great time so we have agreed to forget plans and live by the day. After all we are travelling, once we arrive it will be over.

By the 28th August we decided to move on from the Veerse Meere to pastures new, we passed quickly through this area two years ago so we have some favourite places that we want to revisit, but today we were looking for somewhere new. The pilot book is absolutely invaluable but does not claim to be exhaustive, so we decide to use the Navionics App on the Tablet to find somewhere that looked interesting. We are also in need of provisions so need to seek out somewhere with good facilities.

The fruits of our labours was a plan to visit Sint Annaland on the Krabbenkreek which is off the Mastgat. The new marina development there appears to have everything that the provisioning yachtsman or woman might need including the promise of a ‘Jumbo supermarket next to the marina’.

Our last night in the Veerse Meere was spent on the Haringvreter island which is absolutely beautiful. We stayed on one of the lovely free pontoons, it still feels odd to tie up to a fixed height pontoon that is piled into the bed of the sea because the water level remains constant, although the local authorities do drop the level by 0.5m in winter. Some years ago deer were introduced to the island and they have done what deer do when left to their own devices, so there are now over 700 friendly and hungry deer, grazing right next to the boat. Anyway 70 deer is deemed to be a sensible number of deer on Haringvreter island so over the winter 630 of them are going to a new home and venison prices locally are set to plummet!

So at 0940 (brilliant, no tides, no early starts) we set off from Haringvreter island in SW F3 winds, running and reaching our way south down the Veerse Meere and then NE as it becomes the Zandkreek, all the while wafting through the lovely if slightly flat landscape. By 1230 we were through the Zandkreeksluis and into the partly tidal Oosterchelde.

By the time that the Oosterschelde phase of the Dutch Delta scheme was being planned environmental concerns were better understood so the plan to isolate it completely from the sea was dropped in favour of a flood gate protected inland sea that retains most of its tidal range. This enables the water to remain purely sea water and not become brackish with all of the issues that this raises for wildlife, specifically oysters and the industry surrounding their cultivation.

Journalists in sailing magazines in the UK seem to consider that fenders are an eyesore that should appear moments before docking and miraculously disappear the second that the boat is untied. Firstly, try picking up a dropped fender as it floats under a marina pontoon, I like to keep them on until well clear of the marina. In the Netherlands you will undoubtedly need your fenders in the very near future, so most boats keep them on deck almost all of the time and many never even lift them up off the topsides.

The Oosterschelde is significantly bigger than the Veerse Meere, and with hazy conditions making it difficult to make out the other side it felt much more like coastal sailing. We beam reached north to the Zeeland Bridge and then ran down into the Mastgat with Sanderling’s spinnaker getting its first airing of the season. With the wind having veered to NW as promised we finally reached along the Mastgat and ran up the Krabbenkreek under full mainsail in time to pick up one of the Sint Annaland marinas free 48hr moorings by 1830.

Marinas

Early the next morning we called up Sint Annaland marina to find that they were full and that we should call back in two hours (sad face emoji), which we did and were then allocated a berth. The Dutch are so lovely but their factual and abrupt manner can easily be confused with unfriendliness. The conversation with the marina went something like, “hi, we are an 8m boat with a beam of 2.8m, do you have a berth for the night please”, response “yes, Mike 8, goodbye”.

Sint Annaland marina has absolutely everything you need; water and electricity appear like a James Bond gadget from under flaps in the pontoon; there is a great chandler; supermarket; food market; cashpoint; lovely club with views over the Kreek from the terrace and once met in person the staff are helpful and friendly. It’s also cheap by UK standards, the pontoons are new and the boats are all spotless, hundreds and hundreds of them.

Marinas are absolutely necessary to our trip but they are a little bit soulless, especially ones like this that have been carved artificially from the landscape. As time went on and everybody and everything was so lovely I started to get the feeling that we were staying at The Hotel California; “you can check out but you can never leave”.

I don’t have a bad word for Sint Annaland, it had everything we needed and everybody was lovely, but we were pleased to be on our way again; we were especially pleased to find that there was indeed an exit and that we could leave, and that we had left the fenders down as we were forced by a boorish motorboat to ‘brush’ a moored boat on the way out.

While in the marina we had two bike rides, one to have a look at the Mastgat at low water. The ubiquitous cycle track was up to the usual standard but was littered with oyster shells which the gulls clearly pick up and break on the hard tarmac.

Our other bike ride prompted our plan for our next stop. Right at the top of the Kreek was Sint Philipsland, this must be worth a visit. Described on the chart as a ‘fully drying harbour’, so long as we could establish that the bed of the harbour was rock free this would be perfect territory for a lifting keel Parker. We got advice from a number of people, all of whom confirmed that it was a fully drying harbour but in the end decided to go for it, we are after all supposed to be having an adventure.

Sint Phillipsland is very picturesque and the sun sets conveniently behind the windmill to make wonderful sunsets.

Having anchored, the plan was for me to swim with the mask to check the state of the seabed to make sure that it was ok to take the ground. The depth of water at 4.5m and its almost total opacity made this impossible so I started looking at tide heights to get some idea of the latest time that we could abandon the plan and move back into deep water. My tide height calculations showed us floating in 1m at low water, so as we ate tea and enjoyed the sunset I periodically checked the correlation between the predictions and the soundings from the depth sounder, these seemed to tally so we committed to stay and did indeed float in 0.9m at low water.

As the evening progressed we watched as many of the local children enjoyed the last Friday of their summer holidays by jumping from the dock piles, swimming and even wake boarding behind a tiny inflatable dinghy. All of this happened without any adult supervision, the children seemed quite capable of using the harbour safely and it was a pleasant end to a calm day.

Saturday started in the same tranquil way but by mid morning the first of many jet-skis and motor boats began to arrive, by lunch time it looked like Brancaster on a Bank Holiday Monday. It made a glorious scene full of boats, colour and noise as people enjoyed their weekend, not what we would have chosen, but certainly invigorating. There must be some correlation between I.Q. and the purchase of a jet-ski but here is probably not the place to discuss it (and I apologise unreservedly to the many people who do pilot them skilfully and considerately).

Around 1800hrs, as quickly as they arrived they all disappeared, efficiently and skilfully loading their boats onto trailers, leaving us again with the harbour pretty much to ourselves. We had a final swim around the harbour and I couldn’t resists climbing one of the mooring posts to dive into the harbour before retiring to the boat for tea.

The tranquillity wasn’t to last though as the wind picked up to 25-30kts from 1900hrs as a cold front passed and with wind blowing against the tide we had a bumpy night. By the morning it had all calmed down ready for the next stage of our trip to Ooltgensplaat, looking back we made the right decision to try something new and it is these little off-piste excursions that can make the trip special.

Given that our accommodation floats, and the deck really isn’t big enough for a game of golf, swimming is one our favourite recreational activities and means of maintaining some semblance of fitness.

The joy of stepping straight out of bed, into swimmers and over the transom for a swim really has to be experienced. We have not yet progressed to doing it Dutch style and missing out the ‘into swimmers’ stage, skinny dipping is in the future for now.

I’m rubbish at working my way down the ladder and have taken to checking the depth with the echo sounder and diving in, Belinda favours the more circumspect gradual ladder immersion method with attendant shrieks and occasional bits of cold water tourettes.

However from the Deben and Orford rivers in Suffolk to the Veerse Meere in Zeeland there is an enemy; jellyfish. We started out trying to swim around them or wait for a time when they were absent but in the end I decided that it was time to grasp the nettle.

Good old Google revealed that the species that we were sharing the sea with were Moon Jellyfish, characterised by four rings in the main body. Although they do sting it is so mild that you can’t even feel it. So the decision was made (by me) to swim with them and take the chance.

Initial encounters in the Orford river at Pin Mill confirmed that if they do sting you certainly can’t feel it, or any later ill effects; this is good because in the Veerse Meere there are lots of them.

Now logic must be applied to these situations, we know that they are not going to sting; aren’t planning to grab and drown you; and aren’t going to swim up any unguarded orifice and establish a breeding colony (surely the Dutch skinny dipping confirms this). So why does it still freak us out when we touch one? Through several bouts of immersion therapy we have become more and more familiar with the experience to the point where I now brush them aside and Belinda brushes then aside and shouts ‘shit’ at them.

There has to be a limit though and on our last swim before leaving the Veerse Meere the sea was alive with them, to the point that Belinda turned back with a very unpleasant expression on her face. Having banged on about the importance of being logical I was obliged to continue to our destination buoy. Once the swimming media becomes 85% water and 15% jellyfish, and it feels like swimming in tapioca pudding, the time has come to withdraw gracefully to the boat and have another coffee.

One final tip is to avoid watching Will Smith in ‘Seven Pounds’, it’s going to put you off jellyfish for a bit and I can’t deal with Belinda crying for three days again.

Middelburg (not to be confused with several Middelburgs in America) is the capital of the province of Zeeland. It is a typical scenic Dutch town based around its Binnenhaven or inland port; these ports were at the centre of the region’s prosperity, serving as fishing and trading ports. There is no modern marina in Middelburg so all boats are berthed in the Binnenhaven which gives you the feeling of being right at the heart of the action.

The buildings are the typical Dutch gabled houses but it is incongruous to see two architecturally similar buildings next to each other, one being slightly crooked and drunken looking and one being straight and geometric. The dates on the gables are the give away with the crooked buildings having dates in the 1700s and the straighter ones dated 1948 and 1949. The town has been lovingly restored or recreated after WWII in a way that would probably be frowned upon now in Britain but Middelburg is all the better for it.

We spent a leisurely two days here walking, sightseeing and cycling including a walk to the top of the 86m Abbey Tower of Long John (Abbey Tower of Long John) which afforded views across the flat countryside to our next port of call Veere, and our last Vlissingen.

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Retracing our route we cycled along the canal bank back to Vlissingen which is the port of entry for the Netherlands where customs and immigration formalities should be sorted out. It is also a substantial commercial port and yachts have to pass through the enormous and intimidating kleine sluis, which is itself a quarter of the size of the main sluis.

The last time we were here we were so excited about having passed through the lock properly that we forgot to clear through immigration into the country. This time, as we had already cleared into the Shengen area at Ostend there was no need to clear in, and as we had nothing to declare to customs we had bypassed Vlissingen. Behind the port (where I discovered the navigational buoys that seem to be missing at sea) lies another beautiful and typical town.

A short trip north along the Kanaal door Walcheren via the Veere Sluis leads us to the pretty town of Veere and the Veerse Meer, the inland sea that takes its name. Sailors are superstitious folk so I feel that I may be tempting fate by suggesting that at present we are making a good job of the locks, although the light winds and uncrowded waters are making it easier.

High pressure, with its associated lights winds and clear skies dominated the next few days with us enjoying temperatures in the high 20s. The Veerse Meer has a feel rather like the English lake district, specifically Lake Windermere. There are no tides and the banks and islands are dotted with pretty anchorages, beaches and quays. Of course, being Holland the quays are not privately owned with No Mooring signs, they are public, with toilets and bins to help you to do your bit to keep the place clean and tidy.

Sailing out of the lock and into the Veerse Meer in a heatwave on the last Sunday of the school holidays was something of a shock; I don’t suppose that we should have been surprised to see so many boats but after the tranquillity of Middelburg we were a bit shocked. We quickly dipped into a bay and dropped anchor to take stock in what turned out to be a lovely spot that became our base (and safe haven) for the next few days.

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The next few days were like a perfect holiday: we sailed slowly in light winds with no waves; we swam; we cycled and we visited the very very picturesque Veere where again there was a free visitor mooring.

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All in all it was a perfect idyll interrupted by one small incident. It’s funny how snippets of apparently unimportant information stick in your mind; or my mind anyway. On the Monday, having replaced an alternator mounting bolt, we decided to tour the edge of the Meere under sail, this was going brilliantly at 1.2-1.4kts ( I know my sailing friends will be amazed that we were happy at 1.2kts). We drifted out of the channel a bit to allow the ferry to cross when we ran aground in what should have been 2.5m of water. Hitting the engine starter button to sort the mess out yielded NOTHING, not even a click! The battery voltages were good, so what could be the problem. First things first, we did the Parker thing and winched up the keel to get the boat moving. Then we had a go at starting the engine with the starter handle, it worked, sort of. The smoke billowing from the engine bay told me that there was something wrong, then a conversation that I had had with Lill at Brancaster came back to me. It is possible for a slowly cranked Yanmar to start running backwards! Using the exhaust system to draw in air and pumping exhaust gasses into the boat. We must have looked quite a sight venting smoke out of the hatch, I’m surprised that nobody reported us on fire. We decided to sail back to the bay and anchor so that we could assess the situation, could I fix it? Would we need an engineer? Was this the end of my lump sum one month into my retirement? The most likely culprit was the starter motor, which you can short out and kill while working on the alternator.

As we sailed back I thought of an article that I had read in Anglia Afloat while we were in Woodbridge. The gist of it was, when you have a mechanical problem don’t assume the worst, it could be simple. Once anchored I began working my way through the starter circuit and at the third check point discovered that the main earth lead to the starter had snapped! I had spares on board so an hour after looking like our dream trip was about to fall apart we were back in business.

Obviously it is unwise to temp fate, but we seem to have got over the first of what will no doubt be several setbacks quite successfully.

Ostend is unlikely to be described as anything more than a run of the mill northern European city and port. Yet as a port of arrival after a demanding passage it represents safety, comfort and a degree of excitement at the start of the next stage of our adventure. We are very fond of Ostend.

Of course any foreign city offers a degree of romance simply by the fact that it is foreign, familiar as a European city but sufficiently different to evoke some excitement.

We have chosen to stay in Mercator marina which was named after the barquentine Mercator, built in 1932 as a training ship for the Belgian merchant fleet. She was named after Gerardus Mercator, Flemish cartographer and was designed by G.L. Watson & Co. and built in Leith, Scotland.

The Mercator is still resident in the marina and makes an impressive site in the sunshine, but even more so when floodlit at night.

One of the star attractions of Ostend is the Manuscript bar which we discovered two years ago on our last visit, it was immediately placed in my ‘top three bars in the world’ along with The Strugglers in Lincoln and the Bec Jaune in Morzine (note, the Bec Jaune has since dropped out of the top three!). The have a vast range of exquisite Belgian beers that the friendly staff are happy to guide you through; in fact on our last visit they guided me through so many that I fell back onto the boat afterwards. They also have a fantastic sound system that draws you in with it’s superb sound quality and carefully selected blues and rock music.

This year we planned to start our evening out in the Manuscript and move on to a newly discovered bar, however the music was so good, and the beer was so good that we stayed all night.

For the first (and probably last) time in Europe we managed to clear into the country correctly, using the appropriate forms and even retaining a stamped copy for future inspection. The incredibly helpful harbour master also explained that we had cleared into the Schengen area and as a result would be able to proceed into Holland without repeating the process.

We also enjoyed several great bike rides, including one along the lovely promenade where we were able to watch the sunset over Merrie Old England. On a ride to the park we managed to find another Flamingo but they weren’t selling.

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Anyway, lengthy stays in city marinas erode our budget too quickly and we also find that a few days in a city or town have us hankering after a few nights off grid and at anchor; and vice versa.

So on Friday we departed Ostend headed for the Netherlands, which we would achieve by sailing ENE up the Belgian coast, across the Westerschelde and into the Kanaal door Walcharen at Vlissingen.

The trip along the Belgian coast was classic North Norfolk sailing (apart from the need to avoid getting run down in the Zeebrugge Port entrance), the tide runs with you for six hours and against you for six hours. The best plan is the sail with the tide all of the time (possible on this 30NM sail) assuming that you don’t have time constraints at either end of the sail. Unfortunately the NE going tide didn’t start until 1500hrs so we had to work against the tide from 1300 hrs in order to hit the lock at Vlissingen and the bridges on the Kanaal door Walcharen at a sensible time.

We had a slight hiccough on the way out of Ostend; having cleared the lock into the Montgomerydok we jilled about for 20 minutes waiting for the lights to turn from red to green before a kindly soul from the Royal North Sea Sailing club shouted that we needed to call port controll on CH09 for permission to exit!

The trip up the coast went pretty much as planned although we were able to sail rather more than expected as there was more North in the ENE wind than forecast. We had a mad dash across the thee converging shipping lanes in the Westerschelde where the tides run at 3kts and ships appear as if by magic (a bit like the old lady with the dog on the marsh at Brancaster). Abandoning correct protocol I decided that the last ship would ‘probably miss us’ and proceeded across his bow and the grounds that he wasn’t very big and I was late for the lock.

Passing through Vlissingen lock and the four bridges on the canal reminded us of our previous trip to Holland as we became familiar again with the process.

We did however have one more hiccough as we passed though the main bridge in Middleburg, our final destination. The bridges open at set times, usually three or four times per hour. However they will open on demand for four or five yachts together; the natural consequence is that yachts soon become grouped into what are known as ‘blue waves’. As our blue wave approached the main bridge in Middlebug at rush hour on Friday evening we got dropped off the back of the group, so as we approached the bridge the lights went to red and the bridge began to descend. Promptly we turned round and headed for the waiting pontoon promising ourselves to keep up next time. Immediately the lights went green again and the bridge began to rise again, clearly the red light means ‘get on with it!’. The people waiting for the bridge seemed quite pleased to be spending even longer waiting for foreign yachties before they could get home for their tea.

Anyway, by 2015 we were tied up in our first ‘box berth’ of the trip at Middleburg, capital town of Zeeland; heavilly modified by ‘Bomber Harris’ during the last war but now beautifully restored.

More on Middelburg next time………………

Any crossing of the North Sea in a sailing boat carries considerable risk, but the skipper of a 38ft 10 tonne boat with five crew and a substantial budget for replacing broken spinnaker poles probably has less to concern them than a middle aged couple with a 2.5 tonne 27ft boat.

The main risks are: night sailing; navigation; avoiding commercial shipping; weather; and tiredness.

Most of the risks associated with night sailing can be significantly reduced by choosing a night when there is a gibbous moon that will be up throughout your journey. We planned our trip to nicely coincide with such a moon which gives a lovely silvery light, it is almost like sailing in monochrome.

In the era of GPS navigation is fairly straightforward but route selection is an issue, this is one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world and there are many many vessels to avoid. There are Deep Water Routes (these are like trunk roads in the sea for commercial traffic) that you can cross how you like but it is essential that you don’t impede a big ship; especially at night when they may well not have seen you. There are also Traffic Separation Schemes (maritime motorways) which you must cross at 90 degrees, you absolutely must not impede any vessels in a TSS. Our chosen route also takes in the ominously named Sunk Precautionary Zone which is like an enormous roundabout for ships; to enable us to arrive on an unfamiliar coast in daylight we have to cross the Sunk Precautionary Zone in the dark.

Avoiding commercial shipping requires a constant watch to be kept at all times. In the dark a vessel’s working lights will often block out their navigation lights making the tracking of vessels very stressful and tiring. By day things are easier but the size of the ships and their speed make it very difficult to judge their range and when you are likely to meet them.

It is actually quite easy to avoid most problem situations if you give way to every ship you see, but doing so slows your progress to a point where tiredness can wreak havoc with your decision making. Careful use of the binoculars and hand bearing compass help greatly. A real boon to the modern sailor is a system called AIS (Automatic Identification System) which displays information about (most) ships in your area including their position, course and speed.

We are becoming quite experienced at avoiding shipping and were proud to have made good progress without causing anybody undue concern.

The weather forecast is a big concern for the small boat sailor, the North Sea is no place to be in rough seas or gales. For our boat we don’t want to be off shore for long in anything over F5 winds or slight seas. We can deal with F6 and F7 winds from the right direction for a limited time but it becomes very tiring. Slight seas (waves of 0.5m to 1.5m) allow us to make sensible process, moderate seas with waves up to 2.5m can soon become disorientating and slow the boat almost to a stop.

So we are really looking for a forecast of F3-F4 winds with smooth or slight seas, ideally from the South or South West and with settled weather before and after the planned passage. This year we waited nearly a month for a suitable forecast and eventually set of with some F5 winds and moderate seas in the forecast. Careful use of the synoptic charts and a dedicated sailing forecast site however led us to believe that the Shipping Forecast was pessimistic and so we decided to sail at midnight (on my birthday). Just 30 minutes before departure I was still having doubts ‘what if the Shipping Forecast is correct?’, just at this point Belinda piped up ‘shall we just stay here?’ but we decided that it was just nerves getting to us, we had a plan, we needed to stick to it. If we got off shore and it was too rough we could come back.

From the off the winds were lighter than the Shipping Forecast and it became necessary to motor and motor-sail for much of the trip; this is frustrating as it uses diesel and is noisy making for a less pleasant trip. It is however rather better that the forecast being wrong in the other direction and ending up on a 36 hour sea survival course ending up with a ride in a Belgian helicopter. The sun shone throughout, we ate well and even played pop master while listening to Ken Bruce, which mysteriously faded exactly as we left UK territorial waters.

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Despite almost ideal conditions we knew that we would be tired when we arrived so planned to go direct to the familiar Mercator marina in Ostend which we did, arriving shattered at 1930 hours. It was lovely to be greeted by the lock keeper who, having taken our vessel name called back on the VHF to ask if we were the ‘family Smith’.

Having been allocated a berth that was already taken we were quickly upgraded to a posh berth amongst the big boats where we abandoned all plans to shower and visit the Manuscript Bar for a Belgian beer, opting instead to have a beer aboard and finish the curry that we had started 24 hours earlier just before our departure from Pin Mill.

Despite having it easy, crossing the North Sea in a 27ft boat is quite an achievement for us and we were both extremely proud of ourselves, and each other. Part of the reason that we had had it easy was also down to our careful planning. Arriving in a foreign country by boat is exciting, now we need rest ready to start the next part of the adventure.

The river Deben must be one of Britain’s most beautiful rivers, from the shingle entrance at Bawdsey through the lovely Suffolk landscape up to the picturesque town of Woodbridge.

We have spent a lovely few days in the Deben spending two nights on a buoy at Ramsholt and another two in Tide Mill Marina at Woodbridge.

The Avon inflatable dinghy pays for itself every time we stop on a buoy as it gives us access to the shore. Almost every time it comes out there is a new iteration of the inflation-launch-recovery process but we seem to be settling on using the spinnaker boom up-haul as a crane to lift it from the forepeak ready inflation and from the water ready for stowing.

At Ramsholt we rowed ashore for a lovely walk taking in the church where George Jones is buried; I have recently been reading an account of George’s cruise to Holland and Germany in August of 1939, including his flight back to England as war was declared (Cruise of the Naromis). We also had a cycle ride to Bawdsey to look at the river entrance from the shore.

In Woodbridge we met up with crew member Joanne for a brief visit including a sail in the river, just dodging the showers; and a cracking curry at the Royal Bengal.

Although the river Deben through Woodbridge and surrounding area is beautiful, the river really gets interesting above Tide Mill Marina. Low water exposes all manner of abandoned vessels mainly dating from when steam power took over from sail; obsolete vessels were left in ‘mud berths’ where they have remained and decayed over the many decades.

The banks are lined with obscure working boatyards that are a million miles from the picturesque luxury (and cost) of Tide Mill. There are also many live aboard barges ranging from old concrete lighters with a static caravan craned onto the deck; beautifully converted wooden barges and Dutch tchalks through to converted motor torpedo boats!

An exciting addition this year is the Missile Attack ship HMS Vale which has been converted to a cafe serving excellent breakfasts which we sampled on Saturday morning.

With Joanne on her way home and a weather window on the horizon we beat our way back to the Orwell in conditions that were close to exciting; just below exciting for me but unfortunately just beyond exciting for Belinda. This will give us the increasing flexibility of setting off from a harbour that is not tide dependent.

Back at Pin Mill we have been making preparations for our crossing to Ostend while enjoying increasingly pleasant weather.

Today we have a special occasion as the skipper has a significant birthday that enables him to retire; my aunt has a birthday (a gentleman would never tell a ladies address but I can exclusively reveal that she is………….. old enough to know better) and Flamingo is also 25 today.

A row up to Pin Mill for a late lunch at the Butt & Oyster is planned for today, followed by an afternoon nap ready for an 0000hrs start to Ostend. If the weather and our luck hold our next post should be from mainland Europe; fingers crossed.

After several days avoiding strong SW winds in Southwold it was great to be at sea again and sailing, so much so that we struggled with quality strategic decision making. After an hour beating into the light SW wind Flamingo was going beautifully, full sail, tight on the wind and settled ‘in the groove’. At the first log entry we discovered that in the first hour we had made 1NM in the required direction, lovely sailing but no way to tackle a 30NM passage so on went the motor again.

We made good progress until reaching Orford lighthouse when the headwind strengthened and the following tide increased to over 2 kts, this stacked up the expected steep short seas that are so miserable to motor into.

By the time that we were at the SW Whiting buoy the wind backed as promised allowing us to get some sail on and once across the deep water channel at Felixstowe we were able to bear away and add more sail. One of the joys of the Suffolk and Essex rivers is that there is often good sailing to be had in the rivers when it is too rough or windy out to sea. This was definitely the case today as we had a lovely run up through Felixstowe container port and up the Orwell to finally pick up a buoy off Pin Mill.

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The point of coming to Pin Mill was to find shelter from the forecast southerly to south-westerly gales under the cliff and woods, this turned out to be a great plan as we sat serenely on our mooring while the wind howled for two days. Pin Mill is a stopover that we have managed to visit very briefly once before but demands more time if possible; with the trees protecting us it was possible to row ashore several times to visit the famous Butt & Oyster pub and explore the surrounding countryside, retreating to Flamingo now and then to avoid a succession of rain storms.

After four nights and five days at Pin Mill it was time to move on, towards the river Deben before the next lot of strong winds. The jet stream wind is further south than normal at the moment so although we are enjoying mainly warm dry weather the winds are often too strong for sea sailing in a 27ft boat. It was tough to be up at 0545 to catch the tide but there always seems to be a benefit to an early start. We sailed the first hour down river gently in light airs while we ate breakfast and enjoyed looking at the rising sun, beautiful countryside and the array of moored boats. We have had lengthy discussion about which boats are pretty and which are beautiful, the decision on the boat shown below was pending (probably very pretty, not quite beautiful) when we spotted a stowaway asleep in his tender.

Exactly how an adult seal has managed to climb into a tender without capsizing it remains a mystery.

Back through Felixtowe and down into Titchmarsh marina in the Walton Backwaters for provisioning.

This turned out to be a very productive and enjoyable day, we managed to: buy food; buy diesel; fill the water tanks; get proper showers and charge the batteries. All a bit prosaic but necessary details, we can’t afford to be marinas every night so we need to make sure that we stock up when we can.

In the afternoon, and despite the weather forecast we managed a cycle ride through Walton-on-the Naze up to the Naze Tower, a navigational tower that we have seen many times from seaward; first constructed in 1720 it is 86ft tall and has been converted to a fantastic eight storey tea rooms and art gallery.

It was no surprise that we were able to watch yet another storm tracking towards us across the Orwell, fortunately we were able to enjoy a cup of tea, with cake and a chat with the extremely friendly and informative guy running the cafe while it passed.

A sensible 0815 start the next day had us running just 8NM up the coast to the river Deben. The entrance to the river at Woodbridge Haven is tricky with shifting shingle making careful pilotage essential if you are to avoid joining the collection of boats that have come to grief in the shoals. The trip in was severely hampered by a number of boats whose skippers seemed to have a distant relationship with the Colregs, or common sense; as we approached the narrowest point, doing 7 kts over the ground we were met by three boats sailing abreast! Not that we are claiming to be exempt from ‘special’ navigational or boat handling moments during our adventures.

I had been reluctant to return to the Deben, we have spent a lot of time here and am hankering after pastures new, but once we had picked up a buoy at Ramsholt; paid the lovely harbour master George; had a walk to Ramsholt Church; had a swim and a row to the Ramsholt Arms to watch the sunset I had changed my mind. Even the staff at the pub come out onto the terrace at sunset to take photos, including one girl who had been ‘doing this every night for six years’.

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On Wednesday the forecast was for more rain so we wrote the day off for cleaning, reading and listening to the second test match. Heavy rain was forecast from mid morning and a full day on the mooring can become claustrophobic so we got up fairly early, made a flask of coffee and rowed ashore for a walk and coffee on the quay.

Before we lunched we moved the boat up and anchored at Waldringfield ready to move up to Woodbridge Tide Mill marina to meet guest crew Joanne for a couple of days tomorrow. There is also the promise of a curry at the Royal Bengal.

Anyone holidaying ashore would consider this to have been a good summer weather wise so far, warm and mainly dry, indeed the difficult trip from Southwold to Pin Mill was conducted entirely in shorts and tee-shirts. The consistently strong winds however have effectively prevented us from even considering the crossing to Holland; in previous years this would have been a problem, but now with our time frame extended we are embracing the delays and enjoying what we can achieve. There have been brief weather windows during which we might have crossed the North Sea, but time wise the windows were very narrow, with strong winds immediately before, building the sea state, and more strong winds forecast immediately afterwards that might arrive early.

So for now we will enjoy our time on England’s beautiful east coast and if the weather allows we will head for Holland. First guest tomorrow, we’d love to have more if you can find time.

The cricket’s been rained off though so we have an entire day of the TMS presenters ‘filling’, which varies from very dull to hysterical.

The threat of really strong winds tends to galvanise sailors and the approaching ‘unseasonably deep low pressure system centred over Scotland’ was no exception. With winds of F7 to severe gale F9 forecast all of the the talk on the pontoons was when are you going? Everybody wanted to get to their home port, or their chosen port of shelter before Saturday’s gales arrived.

Despite some boats heading south on Wednesday we (and our new Dutch friends aboard Halcyon, an aluminium hulled cruiser) favoured Thursday with the promise of lighter winds and a more settled sea state. We were headed for a mooring in the lee of the trees at Pin Mill; with the advantage that this would give us access to the Butt & Oyster if the weather permitted safe use of the tender.

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As planned we sprung off the pontoon at 0930 and motored out into blue skies, a gentle F3 breeze and flat seas………………..