Another tropical day. The weather provided the perfect reason to dive in the water and scrub the hull. After two years in the water it was high time. But our cleaning operation revealed another looming DIY-project. We have to do the anti-fouling again, which is the preventive layer on the hull that prohibits growth of algae, weeds and mussels. He had added a new layer two years ago, but this time we have to scrape the hull completely clean before we can add the anti-fouling. The underlying layers of primer have started to flake, which is a common defect with this generation Dufours. In Stellendam there were two other Dufour 31 of a similar age with the same defect. Is seems like we have no choice but to haul out our boat if we want to work on the hull. But that can wait until spring. Let’s enjoy summer first.
We also had to do something about the local bloodsuckers. The downside about inland waters is the abundance of nasty flying and stinging creatures. This location is not only infested with mosquitoes, but there are loads of horseflies as well. Last year we bought insect window screening fabric with a very small maze to prevent even biting midges to enter the boat at night, with the intention to make screens for all the hatches. But since Stellendam lies next to the sea, there were hardly any mosquitoes nor midges. So we forgot about the screening project to sorely regret it now.
Because this place is just teeming with the devilish bloodsuckers. When it gets dark we immediately seal everything almost airtight, so the biting beasties can’t get in. But with the heat it’s suffocating inside. You really are dying to open a hatch, but then of course, all the nasty bloodsuckers fly in immediately. Luckily we had the presence of mind to bring the window screening fabric with us when we left, so we tried to make a makeshift screen with duct tape. Hopefully it holds!
Another warm day at anchor. As we had thought most boats have left by now, but there are still a few moored here in the small channel. With all the noisy holiday makers gone, the peace and quiet returned.
It was too hot to do anything during the day, apart from the occasional dive to cool down, so we listened to an audiobook about Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman. A great book if you like mythology. Sadly most knowledge about this culture has disappeared, although there are still a lot of references to Germanic or Viking traditions in our contemporary culture, like the days of the week which are names after Germanic Gods and Goddesses. Of the whole Norse mythology only a few dozen stories remain, and most of those are about Thor and Loki. There were dozens of Gods in Asgard, but of some gods there is hardly any mention to be found in literature that is left. Maybe Thor and Loki were the most entertaining of the lot, as archetypes for comical duos: The big slightly dim-witted muscular guy and his cunning mischievous friend. Or maybe Christianity rooted out all the stories that contradicted with Christian beliefs. We will probably never know why these stories have disappeared. In his book, Neil Gaiman encouraged the readers to re-tell the stories, and not to be afraid to add something of your own. Because that is what keeps stories alive.
The swans however, are synchronising their leg stretching
You know those days that everything is slightly out of sync? This was one of those days. For one reason or another we were both very tired and didn’t have the energy to do anything. We tried to work, but it turned out to be nothing but a pointless exercise. Maybe you shouldn’t work when the temperature is tropical, and just embrace it as a moment to relax and enjoy. Could it be the lingering nine to five mentality that is rearing it’s ugly head? The notion that we have to be productive during daytime? Perhaps this is one of the things we have to get to terms with, if we want to be perpetual cruisers. We should learn to travel when the weather permits, learn to work when we’re not travelling and relax when it’s not time to travel or work.
We decided to seize the day. So we abandoned the idea of doing anything constructive and went out for a swim instead.
Ketelhaven Dronten to anchorage IJsseloog: 1,8 nautical miles
The weather forecast has predicted a tropical week, so we’re leaving Jachthaven Ketelmeer today to return to the anchorage at the IJsseloog. It will be great to spend the week there at anchor, where we can go for a swim if it becomes too hot. A last shower, filling the water tank and all the small water containers, and we were ready to untie the lines.
Doesn’t this look like a picture out of a fairytale book?
We had hoped that we would be able to anchor at the same spot we had anchored a few days ago. And as if it was meant to be, they had saved us a spot. We didn’t want to be too far nor too close from the embankment. It took a few tries to set the anchor, but after that we had the perfect spot again. We might be getting the hang of this anchoring thing.
We had expected the anchorage to be absolutely swamped because it was a Saturday, but it wasn’t that crowded at all. Later on it turned out that it wasn’t crowded yet because it was still early. During the day the channel slowly filled up and at the end of the afternoon we counted 19 other boats that we could see. But they will probably all be gone tomorrow evening, and we will have the place for ourselves again. We watched the sunset in the cockpit, just like last week, and enjoyed the choir practice of the frogs. We were glad to be back in our little paradise.
Anchorage IJsseloog to Ketelhaven Dronten: 1,8 nautical miles
We were running low on water and it was high time for laundry again, so we are going to leave the anchorage and head towards a marina. There are three marinas on either side of the island, and we chose Jachthaven Ketelmeer, a club run marina on the south side of the Ketelmeer.
The rain that was supposed to fall yesterday was now falling with a vengeance. Stupidly we forgot to close the forward hatch when the rain started, so our duvet and sheets were drenched. It’s a good thing we’re heading for a marina with a dryer…
Without too much difficulty we found a slip and moored with relative ease. It’s a bit weird to be in a marina again after 5 days at anchor. The boat moves differently when moored in a marina. When you’re anchored you always have headwind so the movements of the boat are predominately in the same direction, the motion is only magnified as the wind speed increases. But if you’re in a marina the position of the boat is fixed, making the wind the variable. The weirdest thing however is this subtle hint of land sickness when you get off the boat. It’s similar to sea sickness caused by the abrupt absence of motion. It’s a weird feeling, just as if the land is moving.
Captain Fluffy didn’t show any signs of land sickness. Clearly happy to be in a marina again, he jumped off the boat for a late afternoon walk and was immediately spotted by the harbour master’s wife. Captain Fluffy, always keen for attention, let himself be admired and posed gracefully for the camera as if he was working the catwalk.
Captain Fluffy on the catwalk, as captured by the harbour masters’ wife and posted on FB
Clouds signaling rain and thunder arrived around noon. A good moment to get some work done. Although it was supposed to rain the whole afternoon it cleared up quite quickly, allowing us to have a nice afternoon swim after all the hard work. Because if you are at anchor, the best alternative for a shower is to take a refreshing dive.
This is how we pictured being anchored somewhere: beautiful scenery, singing birds, and warm and sunny weather. Suddenly this idyllic picture was brutally disturbed by the approach of a very big tow boat coming up the channel. We weren’t aware of the fact that professional traffic was using this channel. On the internet all you can find about this channel is that it’s an anchorage, not something that sees a lot of passing traffic. There was enough space for the tow boat to pass between us and the buoy, but it felt way too close. So after it had passed we decided to move the boat closer to shore after all. We lifted the anchor, and moored again closer to the embankment. Now we have more space between us and the buoy, and we have a better view of all the wildlife on shore.
After the relocation we started with the construction of a sort of lazy jack for our main sail. For this we needed to get ropes through the eyes in the spreaders halfway up. Jeroen went up the mast this time to overcome his high anxiety. We spent a good deal of the day getting it right, but still the sail wouldn’t collapse smoothly in the lazy jack. Maybe some grease might will do the trick? Yes, that sort of helped a bit. It’s still not perfect, but good enough for now. It was getting too warm to continue working anyway.
Perhaps it’s time to play around on the water with our inflatable boat? Our poor dinghy had deflated a bit overnight. Apparently the repairs we had done before we left Stellendam hadn’t worked. The boat was still leaking. We couldn’t find another leak, and pumped it up again. It doesn’t deflate immediately so we can still use it for now. But we probably have to buy another one and say goodbye to our little floating friend.
We woke to the sounds of birds singing. We slept like a rose, the first time at anchor we have slept so soundly. It was a lovely sunny day, and at 8 in the morning already warm enough to have breakfast in the cockpit. All the people that were anchored here yesterday had left this morning, leaving us all alone in our small paradise.
The frog is returning home to the other bank from its choir practice yesterday
Anxious to explore our beautiful surroundings, we blew up the inflatable dinghy and hopped in. The IJsseloog is a round island with a small channel running through it like a crescent moon. We were anchored at the north entrance of the channel, so we set out to see if there was an even more idyllic spot to anchor at the south entrance. It turned out the island wasn’t so big at all, and before we knew it we had come to the south end of the channel. No need to move the boat, our spot is by far the most beautiful.
However there was another reason to move. We were anchored slightly far from the embankment, and we felt we posed a bit obtrusion to possible traffic. But when we were rowing back to our boat from the south end of the channel we saw that there was a good 30 meters width from our stern to the buoy that marked the the channel. Enough space left for boats to pass. And we were hesitant to move closer to the embankment, in fear we might run aground again. We tried to check the depth with our inflatable boat, and it was possible to move a smidgen towards the shore. But should we relocate just for just a few meters? The anchor was set firmly and if we would relocate it would take a few hours again to be sure that it would hold. After a lot of indecisiveness we decided to stay put, at least for now. Besides, it was very warm, and rowing is a very physical exercise. The water looked more attractive by the minute, maybe it’s warm enough to swim? Jeroen befell the honour of the first dive of the year, and declared the temperature “very refreshing”.
Enkhuizen Oosterhaven to anchorage IJsseloog: 21,6 nautical miles
It is time to leave. Water tank all filled up, everything secured, okay…off we go. We hailed the harbour master that we were about to leave and asked him if he would be so kind to open the bridge for us. “Are you wearing your glasses this time?” he answered. Hmmm…apparently it is still the running gag.
We’re never quick to leave, and it was already past one o’clock in the afternoon. We wanted to sail to the IJsseloog, what is famed to be the most beautiful anchorage in the Netherlands. But according to our navigation app it’s almost 6 hours sailing, so maybe it’s already running a bit late to make that passage.
We decided to see if there was an empty spot to anchor at the Zuiderzee Museum where we had anchored a week ago, and leave early tomorrow morning. So we turned to port right after we left the municipality marina, to enter the sheltered anchorage near the museum. It was a bit crowded, but it seemed like there was still a spot where we would be able to squeeze in. It was quite shallow but just do-able, so we dropped the anchor, let out more chain and slowly moved backwards. When the anchor had dug itself in, we surveyed our location. We were too close to the boat behind us, at least in our opinion. The guys on the boat didn’t even bother to look up. No…definitely too close, so we hoisted the anchor again and went in search for another spot. The only other spot left available was really too shallow for us. Apparently the universe thinks it’s time to leave Enkhuizen. It is saying “Leave now or stay forever!”.
We decided to go to the IJsseloog anyway despite the fact that in the meantime it was already was 2 o’clock in the afternoon. We could always find refuge in Urk we reasoned, which would shorten the trip with 2 hours. But the wind was stronger than forecasted thus the passage also was swifter then we had anticipated. We were soaring along with an average speed of 5,5 knots. It was almost a downwind sail, so we didn’t even have to tack for 3 hours.
Jeroen at the helm
The only obstacle we had to negotiate before we would reach our destination was the Ketelmeer bridge. Unfortunately we had just missed the opening and had to wait for 30 minutes. We needed to lower our sails before we could pass the bridge. Heading downwind means you end up at the lee shore. That means that all the water is blown towards that side of a lake, and with these winds it was causing quite steep waves. So steep in fact, that the boat was rocking violently back and forth like a see-saw when we were heading straight into the wind to lower our sails. The nose disappeared into the waves every time the boat rocked forward. Jeroen had to hang on for dear life not to be thrown overboard when he was lowering the main sail.
Weird, once we passed the bridge the wind and the waves were gone. We initially hoisted the sails again, because we still had 90 minutes to go to before we had reached the island. But there just wasn’t any wind anymore. Only because of that one bridge we went from 6 knots to 1 knot speed. It was already 5 o’clock and we were getting tired. Since we didn’t feel like slowly bobbing forward we reluctantly started the engine.
After an hour motoring we arrived at the mooring spot at the IJsseloog. It was beautiful! Big trees, birds singing everywhere and luckily not too crowded with other boats. The IJsseloog is an artificial island in the Ketelmeer. The island functions as a depot and cleaning station for polluted silt. The depot in the middle of the island where the silt is stored is sealed thoroughly, so that no pollutants can enter the surrounding water. The outer rim of the island is designed as a recreational zone, with a protected channel where boats can anchor.
We saw a spot where we wanted to anchor. A quick peek on the navigation app assured us that it was 2,5 meters deep there, so we should be alright. But when we moved towards that spot we saw the depth rising fast to 1,4 meters! We’re stuck! Bit of wriggling and we were free again, so we quickly moved on and tried to anchor somewhat further. We dropped the anchor, slowly backed away until the anchor was set. We surveyed our surroundings and saw thick bushes of water plants below the surface. “Maybe the plants cause the depth meter to measure 1,4 meters. But isn’t that the ground we see there?” A bit of poking with the hook told us that what we saw was indeed the ground and we were stuck, again. We couldn’t even move the rudder.
We started to haul in the chain to tear ourselves loose again, which fortunately worked. Not trusting the map anymore we cautiously explored the other side of the small channel, and discovered that the depth was better there. We threw the anchor in again, and this time we had more luck.
Our view on the setting sun
After a tiring day we settled down in the cockpit. The scenery is truly beautiful. It doesn’t look like we’re in the Netherlands anymore and somehow were magically transferred to a picture from a fairytale book. We spend the evening till darkness fell in the cockpit to watch the sun set with a backdrop of twittering birds and singing frogs.
Quite strong winds today, the perfect time to plan our next passage. The past week we have tried to find suitable anchorages at the IJsselmeer. But there are not many places for us to anchor comfortably with our draft. We’ve only found about five or six spots, so maybe this is the universe telling us that after six passages it is high time to head towards the islands. The plan is to leave – and really leave, otherwise we might as well rent a permanent mooring here – on Sunday or Monday, depending on the wind.
Captain Fluffy isn’t looking forward to leave. He loves his evening walks through the city. So he went for a long walk this evening to make the most of the time ashore…
