As we emerged from Harwich it was a bright, sunny day in late September but the westerly wind was already up to 5 and threatening to increase further. We waited till the mouth of ‘our’ river, the Deben, and the Bawdsey radar mast were starting to sink a little into the horizon before deciding to get something to eat — “Where’s the cafeteria?”

Sorry, chaps, we were on the Stena, but don’t hang up now as our holiday did involve some interesting sailing. Having just seen the end of some domestic building work we were escaping for 10 days to Holland where we had been invited to use one of two apartments which Dutch ‘Old Gaffer’ friends have recently had built on piles at the edge of their traditionally orientated boatyard near Gouda. We envisaged a very lazy time doing little except read and exercise the various interesting boats which were offered to us, but that was not to be the case; however, a change is as good as a rest, they say, and in this case, much more fun!

Tiny and Rik have a very pleasant 28 foot gaffer, Pagan, which was converted many years ago from a ship’s lifeboat — it says ‘42 persons’ on the stem. She is of clinker construction and is double-ended. Rik also produces a nice 18 foot boat in GRP which is beautifully fitted out in wood. Most are motor-only versions but several have been rigged as gaff cutters, including Rik’s Elizabeth, which was at Shotley in ’93. She has a small electric motor just inside her pointed stern and a substantial battery under each side bench; a quick flick of a switch and off she goes!

Over a welcoming drink Rik explained that a rally of the Sloep Wezen club for converted lifeboats had been moved from the previous weekend to the next one, and did we want to join his ‘fleet’? Of course! So at 1000 hours on the Friday morning we were preparing to leave for an area known as the Kaag, about 5 hours motoring away to the north-west, roughly between Leiden and Harlem. ‘We’ comprised Pagan and Elizabeth, and a wooden Bermudan yacht Krab of about 21 feet, heavily built along the lines of a ship’s boat, which lives in Rik’s yard. Pagan is powered by a 2 cylinder, 10 HP petrol Penta engine of some antiquity, which usually runs like a sewing machine. However, this morning her magneto jammed solid — one of the arms which operate the impulse starting ‘flick’ had come unrivetted. As it was imperative to catch a local lock which took us onto the main canal system, we set off without delay behind Krab’s trusty diesel; Elizabeth was to have been towed in any case.

Stage one was slow but very interesting, passing through the narrow streets of Gouda itself, where the ‘bridge man’ opened up the many picturesque bridges, mainly of the Van Gogh cantilever style, cycling on to the next one. This was all very quaint, in distinct contrast to the large north-south canal we eventually joined on which there were very substantial cargo boats operating, many carrying either sand/ballast or fuel for Schipol airport (they hedge their bets by sending fuel oil by both water and road). All our masts were lowered and we were able to pass under almost all the bridges encountered. We stopped at Alphen to stretch our legs and get some meat for Saturday’s barbecue; a pleasant and bustling town. The journey was of continual interest, whether passing through the open countryside, the residential areas where often houses were very close to the water (I noticed one modest pad called ‘Pied a L’Eau’) or through the occasional slightly more commercial area.

It was late afternoon before we were through Leiden and able to raise our masts again, whilst still under way. Rik and I had been working on the dead mag, using a club hammer as an anvil on which to re-rivet ‘new’ arms taken from a spare mag which unfortunately was of opposite rotation. Our labours bore fruit and the engine ran again; but we continued to motor in convoy rather than sail as we were then fairly close to our venue, running our engine to lighten Krab’s load.

The scenery, in contrast to the linear canals, began to open up into most attractive countryside, very reminiscent of the Broads but with a greater preponderance of windmills, of course. As the sky turned to a cherry red glow we arrived at the staithe which was to be our base for the weekend. Already there were perhaps a dozen other boats, quite a few of similar general shape to Pagan, though some were in steel. In the morning we were able to have a closer look at these and the newcomers; I think there were eventually about 20 boats in all. It was nice to see some youngsters with their own ‘yacht’, a diminutive ex-lifeboat complete with a cabin, whose name obviously translated as ‘Gigantic’! Some others had a small open boat. A vast lifeboat appeared, straight from the derricks of the Mauritania or the like; its rounded form made of curved ali sheets riveted together. About two thirds of her 35 or so feet was open, the rest covered by simple but adequate decking. The crew was kept in order by a beefy chap with blond, curly hair who in a previous life was obviously a Viking. Many of Rik’s family were here too, but in non-eligible though highly attractive boats. Sister Eliane and husband Cees, the dead spit of Arthur Ransome, had a 30 foot traditional style steel jacht; Uncle Wim had a similar but larger boat, 45 feet, which was no longer rigged; and his daughter Ivonne and Rob had a more ‘voluminous’ Lemsteraact which was known as the ‘Hilton’ because of its luxurious accommodation in all departments. The Hilton had full sailing rig on her very apple-bowed, teak hull, an impressive sight. We spent a most pleasant Friday evening in her massive saloon, Cajun music playing on the hi-fi with Uncle Wim joining in on the kazoo, son-in-law Rob on the mouth organ, while a varied assortment of food and drink circulated. Wim’s son Rob and Ellie had an elegant 45 foot Abeking and Rasmussen double‑ended motor sailer.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny for what was basically a treasure hunt, an excuse to send us to some of the very attractive corners of the Kaag. The sun was temporarily eclipsed by Pagan’s magneto throwing another wobbly, and this time it seemed pretty terminal as the arms had jammed to such an extent that they actually cracked the mag casing. So the gentle breeze was welcome and got us around the course, during which we saw quite a lot of BM’s, an open gaff dayboat which is Holland’s most numerous class — rather like a slightly scaled-down Broads ‘White Boat’. We also saw many Lelie-vlets, the boat widely used by Dutch scouts of which several thousand have been built. They are open 18 footers, built of steel in a traditional schow style; they carry a gaff rig, aren’t fast (due to the weight handicap, no doubt) but are virtually impervious to the sort of treatment that inexperienced and boisterous lads (and lasses) can dish out. The evening saw an excellent bar-be-cue under the mini-marquee which had been erected.

Sunday was race day and, after heavy overnight rain, was dull and quite windy. Rik was going for gold and set his topsail, no doubt influenced by his heavyweight crew! The course was a triangular one in the open Broad except that the downwind turning point was up a narrower channel, just to spice things up a bit. Pagan, crewed by Valerie and myself plus a young nephew, made a good start, but not quite so good as a young whippersnapper in an open 15 footer. However we managed to put him in his place on the second leg, but he wasn’t one to give up easily and by virtue of greater ‘tackabiity’ got through on the first leg of the second circuit, and stayed there. Never mind, all good fun and I think all the other eligible boats took part. Elizabeth came 5th. The prize-giving was at mid-day, after which we set off home, three-in-a-line again, in lovely sunshine. A pleasant and interesting weekend.

Monday was a rest day but on Tuesday we headed off to Amsterdam with Tiny and Rik. A friend of theirs had offered to lend us his motor launch to see the waterways of Amsterdam — well, some of them, at least. The launch was built in the thirties of riveted steel plate and looked just like a toy Hornby clockwork launch I had as a child; high, lean bows with sitting space aft —- what, no cane chairs? He was called Morris, and no prizes for guessing which make of engine propelled him! We set off with a picnic and a map of the maze of canals and waterways. Rik took an excellent route, ranging from the tiniest, Venetian-style ‘alleys’, through the traditional, leafy and much-bridged canals to the open river where there were several square-riggers kept. We passed the Amsterdam, a recreation of a Victory-period ship (part of a maritime museum) and passed right underneath her towering and ornate ‘transom’ — I am sure there is a proper word which does more credit to such a stern. Our weather overall had been very good and predominately dry, but in one part of the city the ‘ladies’ obviously weren’t aware that the summer heatwave had ended! We picnicked, visited a flea market and a very posh clothes shop and had a lovely day.

Later in the week we spent two days with other friends who live close to the North Sea coast where it heads up towards Den Helder. We cycled to the dunes, visited windmills, and were pleasantly surprised that Vollendam and Marken on the Zuider Zee were far less touristy than I had feared — but by then it was early October. We also raided a super garden centre for some ‘semi-exotics’ for our new garden room and turned our estate car into the Hanging Gardens of Babylon! After Marken we bade these friends Au revoir, met up with Tiny and Rik again and with them spent the rest of the evening on a 35 foot steel ‘Colin Archer’ style boat in a marina near Amsterdam. The owner sings in the large shanty choir which has visited the Shotley Festival in previous years.

Sunday came all too soon and off we went to the Hook where we arrived just in time to see the Albatross passing by under full sail — a 100 foot cargo boat which doesn’t know that the age of sail is supposed to be dead; she looked great. Our batteries recharged, we headed home after a most enjoyable holiday.

FOOTNOTE: Rik has now bought a Cornish Crabber jointly with his singing friend and is keeping it in Heybridge Basin. So if you see a dark green Crabber called Otter flying the Dutch flag on the east coast, give them a wave!

PLUG!! If anyone would like to visit Holland without their boat, we can thoroughly recommend Tiny and Rik’s apartments. There are actually two, built on a concrete raft some 10 feet above the water and overlooking a lovely lake. The boatyard is very quiet, mainly catering for the needs of their clients who berth alongside the pontoons. All mod cons are provided and the main room is extremely light and airy with a distinctly Scandinavian atmosphere. Each apartment has a double bedroom plus another with 2 bunks. And, so that you don’t get withdrawal symptoms, use of a sailing dinghy is included, plus a dinghy with outboard and even something for the kids to do their own thing in. Or you could take your own boat. Gouda is very centrally situated for most parts of Holland and is about 40 minutes from the Hook. If you want to know more, either phone me on 01394 383082 or Tiny and Rik direct on 00 31 1825 15007 — they speak excellent English of course.

In more general terms, Holland seemed to have great potential for a DCA-type holiday, from what I saw. The Kaag, for instance, seemed to have more open water than the Broads yet lots of well-kept nooks and crannies to overnight in. It would not be much fun tacking along a canal, so an outboard would be desirable unless you can be very flexible in your arrangement and go with the wind. There are various areas of open water in most parts, especially the well known, ex ‘delta’ ones between Flushing and the Hook.