A promising day started when our
part of the team (JD, ES and JJ) took over the watch early in the morning (4.00
a.m. GMT), sunshine, moderate wind, waiting for the wind to veer to a
more easy direction. In the approach to one of the busiest traffic lane in the
world, we decided that after consultation of Dover Coast Guard to cross the
lanes at right angles and use our engine for a few hours.
The crossing went
smooth no evasion actions were needed even no close encounters were met. Dover
cliffs appeared well before crossing as the sun was emphasizing their whiteness,
they must be eroding all the time by the rain otherwise they wouldn’t stay as
white as they are.
Next important way mark is Dungeness, a cape even avoided by landlubbers because of the nuclear plant located on the far outreach. It has always been a difficult point and now in particular because wind still wasn’t in favor of us.
BertWo organized a good meal in uneasy circumstances, which we all enjoyed together with the beautiful sunset over Beachy Head. Now against the current and against the wind the other part of the team does the job, we finished it with drinking a ‘borrel’ and eating kroepoek (BertWo should not know)
11.00 AM
We had a really nice day to rest at the city of Oostende yesterday. We ate well-for example Belgian ‘wafels’ with strawberries and lots of whipped cream. A kind of miracle happened when I finally discovered my underpants; it appeared that my bag has too many compartments to hide things.
Since the weather calmed down, we decided to go on to Cowes. Crossing the Canal is always tricky, especially when you sail with wind south/southwest, so we used the motor. We contacted the Dover Coastguard to receive instructions. One should pass the traffic lanes at an angle of 90 degrees. Another sailing vessel obviously didn’t know about the do’s and don’ts: They violated the rules and came into trouble. Later on we heard two EPIRBS were activated, we don’t know what happened.
Right now we pass Dover with its famous and impressive white cliffs that we can almost touch. Speed is only a few knots: there is almost no wind, but who’s complaining? The sun shines en we had a couple of beers. Life is beautiful.
2.00 PM
I should mention another miracle, this is really beyond any
expectations, hold tight everybody: JD spontaneously decided to wash his feet
below sea level…..I’ll say it again: JD spontaneously decided to wash his
feet below sea level.
Most of you people probably start shaking heads, rub your
eyes, because of sheer disbelief. I immediately recognized the importance of
this unique moment and took a picture, which should be published on the web, so
that all you guys can witness and convince yourselves.
What you can’t see on this picture is that the water turned fluorescent. Did you ever see whales puke? We did. When you read in the newspapers about an environmental disaster due to an accident at the nuclear powerplant at Dungeness, well, we now know what really happened. Don’t tell anybody.
Anyway, at least the atmosphere inside the boat is a bit more bearable again, for the next 24 hours.Double bunking, Spanish and the battle of Beachy Head
There is a lot to be said for double bunking (a bunk
is a bed, and double bunking is sharing it with another crewmember, not at the
same time of course). We don’t have enough seaworthy sleeping facilities on
board to facilitate everybody during longer periods at sea. So the aft-cabins
(2) are shared at sea between 4 crewmembers. So far this concept works fine, but
you suddenly realize the importance of privacy. After you are done sleeping, you
need to clean up everything for the next ‘user’ of the room. Also these
aft-cabins are very close to the engine and therefore can be noisy when the
engine is running. In order to at least have some privacy we use ear-plugs to
lock out the outside world when we are sleeping. This of course raises the
question: is this safe? If something happens will one hear it and act on it
quickly enough? For now the double bunking works fine (with earplugs) and we
will have to trust the ‘crew-on-watch’ to warn us if anything happens.
Our Canadian yesterday made a major mistake, he claimed that English is the most spoken language in the world. To fully understand the impact of this statement, one has to understand that 5 Dutch crewmembers from Holland can not accept the fact that Holland is really a ‘non-issue’ for north Americans and that Canadians are basically the north Americans that lost the independence war and where subsequently forbidden to live in the lower 48’s. Our self proclaimed intellectual tried to make an argument based on Dutch being the mostly spoken language in the world, but his fellow Dutchies recognized the impossibility of this statement and suggested Spanish to be the mostly spoken language in the world. The problem is though that Canadians are proud on their dependence of the UK, and consider English (and French) to be acceptable answers to this question, Spanish just isn’t an option. Further discussion then revealed that our Canadian really thinks Canada is more European than North America, and that that is a thing to be proud of. To be proud of ones dependence or resemblance of another country (or continent) is something that just isn’t acceptable to the Dutch, because with such a small Dutch footprint in the world, the only thing to be proud of is its remarkable independence over the years, and maybe our new ‘queen-to-be” Maxima. (note from our self proclaimed intellectual: Dutch history is also something to be proud of). As one can understand the discussion became more fundamental and to make a long story short: We inflated the dingy (rubber boot) and our Canadian is now sleeping in the dingy, 50 meters behind the boat, the dingy is connected through a rope with the boat. He will stay there until he admits that Dutch (or Frisian, whichever he prefers) is the most spoken language in the world, and that Canada is really a part of North America.
Every time we sail the south coast of England we have to fight wind and current to make any headway. In the history of this crew are remarkable battles like the ‘battle of Dungeness’; a 12 hour fight with wind and current to pass cape Dungeness and its ugly power plant. This time however Dungeness went by in a breeze, and we were already enjoying the outlook of an early dinner in Wight. Everything went extremely smooth, the wind was right, the tide was right. Then the tide turned against us and the wind changed to West, forcing us to battle fiercely for every mile in the right direction . Beachy Head (the next cape on the English south coast) just wouldn’t give in and we spend most of the night between Friday and Saturday ‘battling Beachy Head’. As I am writing this we are entering Cowes on Isle of Wight with another wisdom learned: ‘Even though the water may seem quiet, it doesn’t mean the crocodiles have left’ or: never trust the English south coast.