The North Sea
We have just left the Caledonian Canal at Inverness in Scotland. The breeze is as light as expected and we only set the main to steady the boat, but as we motor out of Inverness Firth the breeze picks up and by the time we round the corner into the North Sea we are making 6 knots under full sail with a helping tide. The wind is tight on the nose but perfect sailing in a flat sea. The wind continues to pick up and soon we are soon out of the Firth and crossing the North Sea at over 7kn. We get two full days of beautiful windward sailing. Generally, I try my best not to sail to windward but the sea is so flat that it is a pleasure. Well, a pleasure for most of us: Hugo is still working on getting his sea legs and is a bit green around the gills for the first two days, but Helen and I are fine. Unfortunately, the wind dies on the third day and we motor the last 36 hours to Den Helder.
The North Sea is the stuff of legends from Vikings and WWII naval battles to the vast fishing grounds of the Dogger Bank, gas, oil and now enormous wind farms. It is also famous for its temper. Gales from the North whip these shallow waters into savage seas. But for us it is in a mild mood. The biggest sea is less than 1m and that was on the second day. After giving us a hard time on his staircase, Neptune is kind to us on the North Sea.
On a chart the North Sea between England and Holland looks intimidating with masses of oil wells, gas platforms, wind farms, service vessels, cargo ships, ferries, cruise ships, and even a few yachts. In practice it's not so bad. There is room for everyone and it's all very orderly. Channel 16 is mostly quiet with just the usual weather and navigation reminders and the occasional ship to ship call.
It would be a different story in bad weather, especially fog, but we have perfect visibility and quiet seas. We even had a good breeze for the first 2 days, but now we have run out of wind and must burn diesel.
We use less than 120l (about £144 or 280 AUD). In Scotland I purchased fuel for 'heating & engine' which carries only 60% duty because heating is duty-free. It's a weird, arbitrary honor system. I could have elected to purchase 'heating' fuel for a lot less.
The sun sets as we come into the Den Helder Channel and we are facing an enormous, powerful lighthouse onshore that is so bright it's like a flashlight going off in your face every time it comes around making it almost impossible to see anything else. Adding to the difficulty is a fleet of fishing boats coming out and the first one is wobbling about on the wrong side of the channel. I have a hard time making out the starboard marks so I can stay on the edge of the channel to give him room. Just as I am about to abuse him on Channel 16 he sees us and gives way. It's a relief to leave the fishing boats and lighthouse behind as we move up the channel towards the marina. The marina is thru a lock just past the commercial dock which is full of huge North Sea oil and gas maintenance ships. We cannot go thru the lock tonight but there is a small dock between the commercial dock and the lock where we can tie up overnight.
Just as we make fast I look twice to see that the behemoth behind us is underway! Well over a hundred metres of steel towering well over the mast is ever-so-slowly moving sideways to occupy the space we were in a moment ago, then it carefully backs out into clear water. We had 'right of way' but might is right on the water and there would not have been much room to get out of the way if he'd chosen to challenge us.
The marina is behind the lock ahead of us which won't open till 0800 tomorrow. I set an alarm for 0730 and sleep the sleep of accomplishment.
Next morning we experience our first Dutch lock. Two boats come out before us and we go to follow them in but the aft line is stuck and we have to reverse and try again. The lock keeper gives us some encouragement on the VHF. We get the line free and in we go. The lock is huge and we are the only boat. It's quite a contrast to the small, creaky Scottish locks. Everything is on steroids: the gates, the bridge, and the lock itself. There is no need to tie up, just hang on to the ropes along the side. The water rises gently just a metre or so and we are out into the fresh water of the Willemsoord Jachthaven Marina. This is The Netherlands.
It's possible that we're the only non-EU boat ever to enter Den Helder. The marina office tells us to visit the police. The police are confused and tell us to contact customs. Customs lists lots of phone numbers but those that answer go to voicemail or lengthy explanations in Dutch. Finally I send off an email to an address I find on a web page. A couple of hours later two gun-toting, black-clad young lads approach the boat. The customs officers are young and friendly and have no idea what to do with us. They are from Amsterdam and I suspect we are just an excuse to get out of the office. They are very pleasant and we have a good time with them. Appologetically, they explain that they must search the boat, which they do but it's no trauma. I can't find the boat registration, which I know I've put it in a safe place. No problem, just email it to them. They glance at our passports and hand them back, wish us a safe trip and leave. I send the email with the boat registration and we are cleared in.
The boat itself is only slightly harder. I need to provide more details about the boat before they issue a Temporary Import licence. I fill in a web form and the licence is in my inbox next day. Anjea can stay in the EU 18 months, but I only get 3 months. Oh well.