It's a long way... to Scheveningen...

Well it was the way we went!

Some of you will know my intention was to sail to Ramsgate and then do a 24 hour North Sea crossing directly to Scheveningen. However, having studied the chart and clocked the number of busy shipping lanes converging in that area, I had second thoughts.

It’s not that I mind crossing shipping lanes; I’ve done so many times. It’s just that I wasn’t convinced that I’d stay sufficiently alert for that length of time to make the best decisions. Discretion being the greater part of valour and all that!

So we decided to take it in stages; crossing to France and then heading along the Belgian coast before turning left for Scheveningen. Pretty much as we'd done in 2015.

Anyway. Where were we? Ah yes! Eastbourne…

Despite everything I said in my last post, we actually managed to leave Eastbourne after the planned 2 nights!

Our sailmaker came up trumps and a new sail arrived in time for us to take the 1330 lock and head for Dover.

The timing wasn't ideal as it meant we’d arrive in Dover after dark, but it was nevertheless preferable to staying another night. The sooner we leave the UK, the sooner we start paying cheaper marina fees!

Sailing across Pevensey Bay with less than 10 knots of wind on the beam saw us average about 6 knots through the water. Now sailing with the wind abeam is a quick point of sail but, nevertheless, I was well impressed with the way Cyclone was going – so much so that I phoned the sailmaker and told him!

Locking out of Eastbourne

Bye bye Eastbourne. Didn't get us this time!

Oh what a lovely sail

We rounded Dungeness as the sun was going down and, as we did so, I thought of a new title for Jo. A bit like your Royal Highness, I thought Jo could be your Dungness. She just gave me one of her long, hard stares….

Sunset over Dungeness

 

Moving on… I couldn’t help but notice the pollution as we neared the Dover Strait. Look at the photo below and you’ll see the orange/brown band in the sky. This actually got worse as we looked east towards Dover, but didn’t show up so well in the photos. Still, better a bit of pollution than no cheap imports eh? You don't actually believe any of that global warming, tax raising scam, do you?!

Pollution over Dover Strait

 

There are strict procedures that need to be followed when entering or leaving Dover because it’s such a busy port. You need to call Port Control when 2 miles away and state your intentions. They then ask you to call again when 200m from the entrance for clearance to enter. This would have been OK if I could have got through when 200m away. In the event I couldn’t call until about 20m off the entrance because the channel was busy. Thankfully I was immediately given clearance to enter and proceed towards the marina – just in front of the DFDS ferry that was on its way out.

After a decent night’s kip in the Granville dock we set off to explore the delights of Dover. We soon discovered that Dover is a port town with a castle and some white cliffs. And nothing much else.

Described as a game changing opportunity, the Dover Western Docks Revival project aims to transform the waterfront with a new marina pier and curve to attract shops, cafes, bars and restaurants. It aims to create much needed employment for local people and kick start the wider regeneration of Dover.

Let’s hope it’s successful as Dover’s a bit run down at the moment, with many shops and buildings boarded up. It’s hard to see what can be done about the main road running through it with its constant stream of lorries heading for the docks though. Perhaps a tunnel should be built here – where people actually live – rather than in the middle of nowhere to improve the view of a few rocks at Stonehenge…

Dover's esplanade

 

Anyway, back to the castle. Dover Castle looks pretty impressive from the outside but I’ve no idea what it’s like inside. At £21.40 for an adult ticket, I’m not likely to find out either! How can English Heritage justify that admission charge? It’s not as if they had to build it - it’s been there for ages! Looks like England’s old stuff is now the preserve of the rich. A bit like public transport.

Dover Castle. I only wanted to look. I didn't want to buy it!

Oh well, we burnt off plenty of calories walking around the outside and the white cliffs were scenic  and still free - unless you have a car to park, in which case the National Trust will want their pound of flesh.

Dover's busy ferry port

 

There'll be bluebirds over...

 

En route to the white cliffs we came upon a monument to Louis Bleriot. Jo had heard of him (know all g*t!) but naturally I hadn’t. In case you haven’t either, he was the first bloke to fly across the channel – a feat he accomplished in July 1909 before crash landing in the woods above Dover and collecting the £1000 prize money offered by the Daily Mail. Apparently he developed his aircraft through trial and error, so one more crash was of no particular significance to him!

Louis Bleriot crashed here

After a further, lazy, day in Dover, we set off for Dunkerque at 0730 on Saturday 8^th April. We’d been able to see France when we’d stood at the top of the White Cliffs but it was pretty murky as we sailed across. In fact, we didn’t spot France until we were a couple of miles off.

Looking out from Granville Dock along the "North South"

Looking back towards the "North South" from Dover's outer harbour

 

The previous night, in a text to my cousin Tim, I’d suggested that crossing the busy shipping lanes in the Dover Strait was like walking slowly across the M25. I therefore felt a bit guilty when, on this occasion, we saw only a handful of ships and didn’t have to alter course for any of them! So, after an uneventful sail, we tied up at Dunkerque soon after 1500.

The entrance to Dunkerque East

 

We only stopped one night at Dunkerque as we’d been there several times before. After advancing our clocks and watches an hour, I told Jo she could have a lie in until 0830 the following morning (cunning, huh?) when we’d need to get ready for an 0900 - 0930 departure for Zeebrugge, Belgium.

How'd that happen then? The arrows are meant to point up! Belgian beach scene

After another slightly murky and uneventful sail, we passed through the massive claw like breakwaters of Zeebrugge and made for the Royal Belgian Sailing Club marina. The very helpful harbour master there scanned our completed Schengen forms and emailed them to the appropriate authorities for us. He then allocated us a berth further away from the dredger which might otherwise have kept us awake all night.

Entrance to Zeebrugge. It's big!

Some of our boat mates in Zeebrugge

Cyclone in the Royal Belgian Yacht Club marina, Zeebrugge

You don't normally find submarines in marinas!

 

Following an essential shop at the local(ish) Carrefour, I called up the lockmaster (or mistress in this case) to find out what I needed to do to pass through the lock and take the Boudewijnkanaal to Bruges. She very helpfully advised me that we’d have to take the Pierre Vandamme lock – the ship lock – and could do so in about 2 hours at 1500.

Now the Pierre Vandamme lock is pretty (Van)damn big. And by that, I mean really big. Really, really big. Big enough to take the largest car carriers or a number of vessels together, big.

Its actual dimensions are 500m long by 57m wide. Ours are 10m long by 3.5m wide. So we should fit in OK then. It has a working depth of 18.5m and can hold up to 527 million litres of water. Get the picture? Big!

Slightly anxious skipper waiting to enter Pierre Vandamme lock.

That's it. They're raising the bridges for us. No going back now...

 

As it happened, we had the lock to ourselves. We waited nervously as they lifted the 2 bridges that would give us access to it – stopping the trams and traffic in the process. Then headed to where a colleague of the helpful lockmasterful person was standing, as advised.

We had some expectations that this chap’s role was to help us tie up, but these were cruelly dashed as his hands remained firmly in his pockets whilst he watched us try (and fail) to tie to one ladder before being blown to the next ladder with which we had more success.

The trouble is that this lock was never designed for small boats. The bollards for ship’s lines are 40m apart and so you’re only option is to tie at a single point to one of the ladders. Not ideal, but thankfully the change in water level is very gentle so, once secured – of a fashion – the drama’s pretty much over.

Tied up with 245m of space behind us and the same in front. Could have squeezed another in!

 

We were in the lock for 45 minutes whilst the water level was adjusted. Then it was 6 miles down a canal under 3 lifting bridges to the BZYC pontoon mooring. There we were met by a couple of friendly lads (probably in their late 20s – I’m getting old…) who took our lines and welcomed us to the club. The harbourmaster visited the following day to relieve us of a very reasonable 36 euros for a 3 night stay – including showers and electricity. About the same as one night in a marina on the south coast of England then.

Ships the lock was designed for

Boudewijnkanaal - Zeebrugge to Brugge (Bruges) canal

Lifting railway bridge en route to Brugge...

... and lifting road bridge soon after

Cyclone on her BZYC berth. Looks quiet, doesn't it?

Now, whilst our berth may look quiet, it happened to be right next door to the Belgian Sea Scouts. None of your 'being prepared', woggles and 'bob a job' for this lot though. Oh no. They were learning to sail. And what better accompaniment to the delights of sailing silently through the water than a disco (rave? What is it these days? Help me out Abigail! And, by the way, did you know your dad used to be a DJ?!) soundtrack, belted out by a truly impressive system that wouldn't be out of place at Glastonbury!

Sea Scout sailing, disco style!

All good natured fun. I'm not really (quite) as grumpy as I make out. They did turn it down in the evenings and during the night it was just a distant beat. I've no idea what time their parties stopped though. They were still going whenever I got up in the night - including 0500! Where do the 'youf' get their energy?

We walked 18,453 steps to, from and around Bruges the following day – including about 400 steps to the top of the Belfry and 400 steps back down again. Bruges is a really pretty city and I’ll let the pictures do (most of) the talking.

Ezelpoort. One of the gates to Brugge

Brugge scenery

All the time in the world. Look closely...

More Brugge scenery

Bet he regrets eating them now!

Al fresco dining in the Markt square, Brugge

Brugge belfry

Another Brugge scene. Pretty, ain't it?

And another

There were lots of these. At least you could hear them coming. Unlike the bicycles

In 1998 the "Ten Wijngaerde" beguinage, together with 12 other Flemish beguinages, was added to the UNESCO World Heritage list. For those ignoramuses (like me) who've no idea what beguinages are, they're "a unique testimony to the medieval mystical movement which produced them. Beguines were religious women, widows or spinsters who wished to live an independent but committed life outside the recognised orders with their vows of fidelity and poverty". Now call me a philistine, but I can't see the point of spending your life sitting in a church chanting. Each to their own, I suppose.

Entrance to the "Ten Wijngaerde" Beguinage

Inside the Ten Wijngaerde Beguinage. This is central Brugge remember!

And from the outside

Godshuizen - Almshouses

"The most photographed spot of Bruges" Apparently.

Markt square from about 1/3rd of the way up the belfry

The heart of the mechanical carillon. Like a big record, the drum rotates and the pegs activate the bells

The belfry's clock mechanism is in the background

Brugge from the belfry...

... and again...

... and again. This is Burg and the big building on the right is City Hall

Another picture of Brugge from the belfry...

... and another. Cyclone's just under the big yellow "H" in the distance

Yet another picture from the belfry. Well, we had to walk up nearly 400 steps to get there!

Dick van Dyke (well, something like that). The former Hanseatic quarter

The former Hanseatic quarter again

After all that walking on Tuesday, we had a lazy day on Wednesday to psych ourselves up for the horrors of the return trip through the lock, followed by a day sailing.

In the event, everything went pretty much like clockwork. The bridges didn't delay us and the lock opened soon after we arrived.

We had to share the lock with a large barge this time but, like us, it was lost in a lock of this size. We tied up to a ladder without drama and then waited the hour and a quarter that it took to let out approximately 86 million litres of water (500m x 57m x 3m drop = 85,500 cubic metres or 85.5 million litres by my reckoning!). The gate at the sea end of the lock was then opened and the swell allowed in to greet us.

Which was fun.

Rising and falling by a metre or so with fenders scraping against the mussels populating the lock wall, whilst trying to push off and get the hell out of there!

But get out we did and set sail for Roompot in the Netherlands - about 30Nm north east of Zeebrugge.

Inside Zeebrugge harbour

We were having a great sail and so didn't bother with a stop at Roompot in the end. Instead, we continued to Scheveningen, 70Nm from Zeebrugge, where we tied up soon after 2100.

Ship approaching Hook of Holland that had altered for us on instruction of Maas Control. What a nice man!

So that's it for now. It's Friday 14th April and we'll be staying in Scheveningen for a few days, during which time we hope to meet up with Marjolein and Alfred - the Dutch couple we got to know 2 years ago.

So bye for now.

And thanks for reading.