What is wrong with this summer? The weather goes from tropical to cold and rainy overnight. Weird.
Around noon an elderly man knocked on our boat. We went outside to see what it was he wanted. It turned out he was selling smoked eels. They were still warm, fresh from the smoker and smelt absolutely delicious, so of course we bought a few. Later we heard that it’s quite special to meet this elderly man with his smoked eels. Because they’re so tasty, everyone who comes to Makkum hopes that the old man comes knocking on their boat if they’re in the marina. But he tends the be rather infrequent with his visits, and you’re considered lucky if you chance to meet him. Us befell the honor of being visited by the legendary smoked eel salesman. Which is great, now we don’t need to go out in the abysmal weather to get lunch.
The rain had stopped and while still cloudy there was a glimpse of sunshine now and then. A lovely day to explore the town of Makkum. It’s a cosy small town, dating back to the 10th century. It used to be very prosperous and was especially renowned for its seashell lime industry. But due to severe siltation in the 19th century the harbour of Makkum became unreachable for the seashell fishing boats and the economic growth declined. A lot of the old architecture is reminiscent of the once affluent times. Now the small town is prosperous again thanks to the flourishing water sports tourism with 4 marinas, ship wharves for super yachts, kite surf schools and beach clubs.
It’s Morton and his friends again!
Makkum also has an old lock, build in Medieval times, which used to be the gateway to the hinterlands when it was still a coastal village at the Zuiderzee. We ate fish and chips in the sun while watching the commotion at the locks. People are always so stressed and impatient, resulting in near crashes and irritated words back and forth. A firm harbour master fitted the whole bunch neatly into the lock and reprimanded a huge Swiss motorboat for entering before its turn. He had to go back to the end of the line. He obeyed with a lot of evident reluctance and irritation. It is quality entertainment, no wonder sometimes people even bring chairs to watch the spectacle at the locks. Of course it isn’t so funny if you’re the one in the lock. If you do something stupid there’s nowhere to hide from the spectators above. And since we’re far from being experienced sailors, we know what it is to be on the receiving end of the laughter. But not today. Today we’re the spectators, smiling self-consciously.
It promised to be another tropical day again but with strong winds, so we might find some relief from the heat. We went for a stroll through the village, ate an ice cream and did some groceries. For the rest we tried to do as little as possible, in which we succeeded quite well.
Captain Fluffy comes to live again when it starts to cool down in the evening, and as usual he set off for his evening stroll. There was a patch of grass next to the marina which of course had to be explored and eaten. There were boats to jump on and people to meet. Most people that pass by don’t even notice that Captain Fluffy is a cat. You see them glance, walk on, double take, and then exclaim: “Oh it is a cat! I thought it was a dog!” Although Captain Fluffy likes most dogs, it is doubtful that he would appreciate being mistakenly perceived as one…
A tropical day. The initial plan was to do groceries today, but it was a 4 kilometer walk from the marina to the city center. We didn’t really feel like hiking that distance in the heat and then back again with bags of groceries. Besides, due to the heat the groceries would probably already be cooked when we would get back to the boat without even having been near to a frying pan.
We decided to do nothing at all. It was way too hot anyway. So we spend the day in the cockpit, which was luckily a bit shaded and took a swim from time to time to cool down.
In the evening we had hoped to sit outside and enjoy the evening breeze, because inside the boat it was still 34 degrees. But our plans were cut short. All of a sudden we were being attacked by a swarm of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. The lovely view on what turned out to be a sort of swamp has now become a severe nuisance, it obviously being a breeding ground for the nasty bloodsuckers. To hell with the view, we’re going to leave tomorrow.
Anchorage Enkhuizen Zuiderzeemuseum to Makkum Prins van Oranje: 25 nautical miles
It is time to really leave Enkhuizen behind us. In contradistiction to what we thought a few days ago, it isn’t easier to leave from an anchorage. But we’re easier inclined to leave from an anchorage because we have run out of a.water b.electricity or c.food. And today we really have to leave because we’re running out of water. We were in doubt whether we should refill the tank before we left or that it could wait until we arrived in Makkum. We chose to do it upon arrival because as usual we were on the late side again and set sail for Makkum.
We left the sheltered bay near the Zuiderzee museum and hoisted the main sail and unfurled the genoa. The wind was forecasted to be somewhere between 3 to 4 Beaufort, but in reality it was more like 2 to 3 Beaufort. The sun was shining abundantly so we turned on the autopilot and spent the day being pulled behind the boat in the water and lounging in shade of the genoa.
A refreshing dive
The speed of our boat was considerably faster than last time we did this jumping in the water thing. You can’t just jump of a boat if it has some speed. It goes a lot faster than you can swim, and the boat would soon be out of sight. So if you jump in you hold on to a rope which is tied to the stern of the boat. We jump in from the bow, and when you surface you see the rear of the boat speeding past, that’s how fast the boat moves. A second later you feel a jolt and the boat starts pulling you forward like a water skier. This time the pull was so strong that it costed a lot of strength to pull yourself towards the boat to get a hold of the swimming ladder.
Late afternoon all of a sudden the wind died. It was forecasted to turn to the west, so we figured this was the moment that the wind would turn. We tacked and changed course to anticipate the changing wind direction. But suddenly, before we even had set the sails properly, Booom! The wind banged in the sails with a force that almost knocked us from our feet and the wind speed jumped from 0 to 16 knots in just a few seconds. Luckily we weren’t dangling behind the boat at that time. The wind kept increasing and we shot forward like we were catapulted and sped over the water towards Makkum. We covered the last third of of the trip in just under an hour, whereas it took us six hours to cover the first two thirds.
Entering the channel of Makkum
When we tacked again to make the turn to enter the channel to Makkum the wind dropped a bit, allowing us to gently sail up the channel in stead of covering the last bit by engine. We had hoped to find a spot in the municipality marina, but what we saw on the way didn’t look very promising. We passed two marinas in the canal absolutely packed with screaming children, yelling men and hysterical women, smoking barbecues and loud music while left and right roaring speedboats sped past. Our spirits fell. This looked more like an Italian camping site than the peaceful marina we had imagined.
We sailed all the way to the end of the channel where the Municipality marina was. Our fears were confirmed. It was completely filled to the brim. We decided to anchor somewhere for the night and see if we could find a spot tomorrow. But we were a bit reluctant to do that, because we were almost out of water. Another thing we’ve learned. Never miss an opportunity to refill the water tank, because you’ll never know what you might find at the end of your passage. We could have easily refilled our tank in Enkhuizen, but decided against it. Stupid. If we would have taken the time to fill our water tank, we could have anchored without a care.
On the way back through the channel we saw another marina, the Prins van Oranje Makkum. It only had a sign with its name on it, but no VHF channel or phone number to call which is unusual. We decided to dock at what looked like a reception dock to ask if it would be alright if we stayed here for the night.
We had just tied ourselves to the dock and had got of the boat to search for the harbour master, when we saw him already coming towards us. It turned out he wasn’t just a harbour master but a yacht broker with a small private marina. Normally he didn’t accept guests, but made an exception for us because, as he put it, we looked like good folk. He showed us a berth where we could stay and soon we were safely docked in a quiet marina with a lovely view. What a day.
