The Journey -
Rosy goes from Maastrict to Ter Apel

Aaarrrgggggghhhhhh!!!  Effing, befffing, seffing, buffing computers.  I finished writing this Catch-up part 2 last night, and this beffing, seffing, buffing morning it disa-effing-peared into the feffing ether, without leaving a trace behind it.  So here goes on the second attempt.

!!!????XXX**?***!!!  etc etc!

… So.  There we were.  Cruising the Meuse (in Belgium) slash Maas (in the Netherlands) and crossing the border from Belgium to Holland …

First stop … Maastricht.

Lesson 1:  Take no notice of other people.

I say this, as other people had warned me that Maastricht was a d.b.u.  (dull, boring and uninteresting) town, a typically plonk border town.  On the contrary - I found it to be delightful.

The approach was very positive.  First, we cruised under the new, slender, and beautifully engineered Kennedy bridge, and then we went under the cramped arches of the 13 century St Servaas Brug.  The Servaas Brug and the next bridge are joined by a mid-stream wall, with moorings for 'sports boats' (as our continental cousins call us pleasure boats).  We moored here just before lunch.

After lunch, we set off to see Maastricht, to arm ourselves with some Dutch 'pay-and-go' mobile phone chips, and to acquire some maps.  And I wanted to see some sights.

The town itself retains much of its ancient street pattern, and boasts two very fine churches.  It has some pleasant traffic-free streets, and lots of visitors.  It has plenty of shops, ranging from an Internet Café to a lurid, waterfront sex-shop, with lots of ghastly designer and kitchen shops in between.

It also, importantly, has an ANWB shop.  ANWB is a mix of the AA, the YHA, an outdoor shop, a camping shop and a tourist office.  From a boaty point of view, they sell waterway maps.  There is a series of 'fold-up' sheet maps that cover the country, plus a smaller scale map showing the whole country, for the purpose of route planning.  These are quite inexpensive, as the two essential books are about 15 Euro each.  One details the regulations pertaining to the waterways.  This is in Dutch, and so is pretty much impossible to understand but … it is a legal requirement to have a copy on board (though nobody has ever asked to see mine).  The second book is also in Dutch, and details the facilities available at each mooring, the sizes of locks etc. etc. etc.  Both these books are re-printed annually.

Later in the afternoon, we back-tracked a bit, to spend the night on an off-line, secluded mooring.

The next morning we cruised straight through Maastricht, for a long plonk along the Juliana Canal, mooring just above the Panheel lock, with a short trip next day to Nederweert.

Both Rosy and Temujin are fairly self sufficient.  After a two or three hour cruise we have enough electricity for an overnight stay - inclusive of watching Sky TV etc.  We each carry enough water for one or two weeks.  We each have toilets (Temujin's is a straightforward marine toilet, Rosy's is a smart Elsan bucket) and showers.  Hence, at night, all we want is somewhere to tie up.  Ah!!  And we are both on limited incomes.

We therefore look for quiet moorings:

• we avoid marinas where one has to pay;
• with shore access so that Fanny can get off for a pee (in extremis she will use the roof as a toilet, but it embarrasses her);
• and Temujin needs a clear South Eastern aspect for Sky TV (I do as well when BBC Radio 4 AND the World Service fade from the radio) .

In much of Europe, these requirements are difficult to meet.  Many canals have the profile of a saucer, making it impossible to get close enough to the bank for a towing path mooring.  In any case, the heavy barge traffic means that mooring to the bank with mooring pins is a pretty much useless occupation - one needs to attach oneself to a substantial bollard.  Even then, an 'on-line' mooring can be very uncomfortable when a barge goes by.  They are made easier once one learns how to moor properly - longish lines fore and aft, and springs out fore and aft.  I used to 'cheat' and use a line from the central stud on the roof, but ceased once I understood that the jerks inside the boat were due to the Rosy's natural side to side rocking movements being brought halt on an 'away from the bank' roll.

Anyway, the only available mooring at Nederweert was … tricky.  The mooring was off-line.  Just!!  An 8 ft wide opening gives access to a rectangular basin which is about 70 ft long by 60 ft wide.  Getting in through the entrance, and then turning through 90 degrees is a tricky enough BUT …

When a barge passes the entrance, its approach causes a wave of water to enter the basin, its passing sucks much of the water out of the basin and its departure causes the water to rush back into the basin.  Needless to say, one of the approaches to the basin is round a blind corner.  Getting in and out was interesting and somewhat bumpy!!

Whilst talking about moorings, it is worth mentioning that many marinas find it difficult to deal with narrowboats.  The entrances and mooring pontoons are designed for boats of about 5 to 10 metres in length, and the charges are often so many Euros per metre (generally from 0.5 to 1.5 euro per metre)

St Georges' Day (April 23) saw us arrive at a particularly difficult town.  'Den Bosch tonight' suggested Mike as we left in the morning.  'Er … yes' says I, unable to see it anywhere on the map.  Anyway, we eventually arrived at 's Hertogenbosch.  It is the first town I have ever been whose name commences with an apostrophe.  So unusual is this that the inhabitants have decided to confuse matters even more (and, I assume, by their inability to pronounce an apostrophe correctly) by calling it, amongst themselves, and on signposts, Den Bosch.  They all hoot with laughter at the joke when they are stopped by perplexed motorists who say 'We have been driving round for hours looking for Den Bosch - where is it?' We moored above the lock over which the Royal Welsh Fusiliers stormed in May 1945 to liberate the town centre.  (Later on, in Germany, in the maps displayed in the Saschenhausen Concentration camp, Den Bosch is marked as one of the collecting points for feeding people into the system).

I visited the St Jan gothic cathedral, and had a stroll around the busy market.

On leaving, we locked back down onto the Maas and cruised along the Afdegamde Maas, one of the prettiest stretches of water I've ever been, before a short quick trip down the Waal (Rhine) before mooring on a countrified mooring near the Arkel lock, where we dined on a bankside BBQ, entertained by two pairs of coots nicking each others nesting materials.

The next day was a short run to Viannen , where there is a FREE, offline mooring with water and electricity provided for FREE.  We stayed there the next day as well, as the weather was overcast and drizzly, and shopped at the nearby supermarket.  Shopping in Holland and Germany is quite a challenge.  There are no free plastic bags at the checkout, only expensive re-useable ones.  This is an effective anti-litter policy - there are very few plastic bags wafting around the country.  They also encourage one to return beer bottles, crates and soft drink plastic bottles by charging for them, and refunding the charge when the empties are returned.  Those of us on limited incomes eke out our meagre resources by collecting empties discarded by the affluent, careless and antisocial members of society. 

When we left Viannen, I had the worst morning of the whole trip.

After descending a lock, we had to cross the Waal.  We could either turn right, and cruise up-stream for half a km or so before turning left into the new HUGE lock, or turn left and go downstream for about ¼ km to the smaller, older lock - the one recommended for sports boats.  We decided on the latter.  A pretty brisk wind was helping to blow us downstream, making the turn into the lock cut even more tricky.  One had to give the upstream corner of the lock-cut entrance a wide berth to avoid the inevitable spit of shallow water that is likely to trail off the corner, at the same time not allowing the current and wind to blow the boat too close to the downstream corner.  Even in the lock cut, we were still affected by the wind, and the fast moving, laden, super-barges caused waves to roll up the cut.  Oh!  And as the lock was closed we had to moor, and the mooring bollards were about 20 metres apart - fine for barges, but most un-fine for us little boats.  Anyway, safely, if uncomfortably, moored, we waited for the lock to open.  More boats started to arrive.  After half an hour we were told there was a problem, and after another half an hour we were told that there was a BIG problem with the lock, and we should go upstream to use the other one.

So.  Unmoor, wind the boat round.  Down to the Waal - cross to the other side, dodging the barges going in both directions, and then punch both wind and current for nearly a km before crossing over into the big lock cut.  The gates were open for us, and a huge barge was already in the lock.  Mike stayed at the back of the lock but, with the encouragement of the lock keeper I crept alongside the barge to the front of the lock to keep away from his prop-wash.  Good idea?  Well, I thought so.  Until he ran his bloody bow-thruster.  Knowing that it would take him a while to build up momentum, as soon as the lock gates started to open I hit the throttle and popped out of the lock well in front of him, and was in wide open water when he finally passed by.

At this point we turned right into a dinky little canal that led straight to the middle of Utrecht.  We moored up, and attacked our roofs, moving things and lowering masts etc.  All this activity to facilitate a cruise round the tiny old canal that meanders around Utrecht.  The bridges are old - some are part of houses that straddle the canal - and some of the turns are a bit tight for a narrow boat.  At one point the canal is in a cutting, with the main Utrecht shopping streets 20 feet up, on either side.  There is a broad pavement on either side of the canal, with entrances to what were, I assume, the cellars and warehouses of the shops and houses up at street level.  Now the cellars are wine bars, restaurants and new age style boutiques.  We also passed a café barge, of the Dutch variety, where rather more smoking takes place than coffee drinking.  Nudge nudge, wink wink, know what I mean, squire?

Next day was the Queen's Birthday, and a public holiday, so that everywhere sported orange flags and balloons.  We passed through the town lock (where we had to pay!!) and out along the River Vecht.  There were quite a few houseboats and house pontoons.  At one point there was a line of house pontoons, all with their backs to the water.  They fronted onto a road, where seedy gents in motor cars drove slowly up and down, leering (I assume) at the scantily clad young ladies disporting themselves in their picture windows (this is all hearsay, of course, as we were too busy attending to the boat to take much notice).

As we left Utrecht, the river became even prettier, and - it being the Queen's Birthday - busier.  We arrived at the quay at Breukelen, which was crowded, but we made our mooring intentions clear, and a space appeared for Temujin and Rosy to moor side by side.

Fanny leapt ashore and immediately performed one of her party tricks - she finds a stick and lays it the feet of a likely looking person.  She takes a couple of steps backwards and then fixes them with her steely gaze, and as soon as they look at her she gives the stick a quick glance.  It takes her about 15 seconds to train the average human being to throw a stick for her.

Then (donk) in the distance I heard the sound (donk) of a slow revving old engine.  Sure enough (donk) round the corner came a miniature canal tug (donk) (about 15 ft long) blowing lovely smoke rings out through its over large funnel, (donk).  Sir looking ecstatically happy, madam bored and reading a fashion mag (donk).  I shouted out "What (donk) motor?" Sir put his hand to his ear (donk).  "MOTOR!" I yelled.  "BOLINDER?" Sir became suffused with happiness.  "Yes!!  Yess!!" (donk) He nudged madam.  "He knew my engine!!" (donk).  Madam gave Sir and I a withering look (donk) and turned the page of her magazine.  Sir and I exchanged smiles and thumbs up (donk) as he donked off into the distance (donk).

The next day was May Day, when 10 new members joined the European Union.  It was a fine day as we continued down the Vecht - some magnificent residences on the banks, with immaculate lawns, and many well maintained, newly varnished, wooden day-boats moored on the landing stages.

We came to a lift bridge that we couldn't get under, and it had to be raised for us.  The bridge keeper had a short fishing rod, with a clog suspended from it - he swung the clog out to us for the 'brug geld' (toll).

We soon arrived at Muiden, where more tolls were required for the use of the lock to get us out onto the frighteningly large Markermeer.  We headed out to sea, to go round Pampas Island, before turning inland again for the lock at Almere Haven, where we had to lock DOWN about 12 feet to the canal.  After a short cruise we arrived at the Hoge Vaart where we moored next to an old tjalk style Dutch barge, being made habitable by a family.  Fanny fell in love with the children of the family, who played with her and took her swimming.

At this point we embarked on some more engine engineering.  Since Vise in Belgium, the rear end of Rosy's engine was solidly(ish) mounted on a hefty block of wood that effectively made it rigidly mounted, but we felt it was time to do the job properly.  Seeking advice on where to go to buy things is often a problem.  As soon as people know that the required item is for a boat, one is directed to a boat yard or chandlery.  And so it happened on this occasion.

When the Perkins engine was installed, we made the engine bearers out of 100mm steel, square, channel.  The sides of the channel were 50mm, so by welding 2 pieces of channel together we constructed a 100mm square tube.

Quite by chance, the vertical gap between the feet of the engine and the engine bearers (which was bridged by the flexible engine mounts) was pretty much exactly 100mm.  So off we went to buy some 100mm channel in order to make up some more 100mm square tubing.  We were directed to a boatyard, where the owner was so busy that he couldn't attend to us for at least a week.  Further questioning revealed that he had no channel, but he could construct some by bending sheet steel - which he had.  For proper channel we would have to go to Amsterdam.  Thanks!!  But no thanks.

An hour later, after making enquiries elsewhere, we arrived at a rather smart engineering shop, selling nuts, bolts, spanners etc. etc., a mere 200 yards from the boatyard.  We enquired at the sales desk and were whizzed out to the back where there was a huge engineering workshop, currently making massive five-fingered crane grabs.  In the plush office sat the manager - in smart overalls.  He took us over to the scrap area, and produced some PROPER, steel, 100mm, square tubing, with a wall thickness at least half as much again as standard channel.  He cut us off our 4 lengths, and wasn't going to charge us at all ('It is scrap' he explained, 'And I wasn't doing anything important') but we gave him 20 Euros anyway.

We wondered about flaunting our find to Mr Boatyard, but decided against it.

Back at Rosy it took us only a couple of hours to jack the engine up, remove the mounts that were bolted to both the bearers and the engine feet, locate the new bearers in place and mark the holes for bolting the engine feet to them.  The new bearers were then taken onto the towing path where we drilled the holes.  Back into the engine room, and the new bearers were bolted onto the engine feet, and then the engine was lowered so that the new, square-tube bearers were sitting on the old square channel ones.  Fire up the welding set, and weld the new bearers to the old bearers, tighten up the bolts joining engine feet to new bearers, and start the engine.  Whoopeee!!  Some minimal vibration at from about 950 rpm to about 1050, but otherwise - no vibration.  So, The Beachboys!!  Hear this - No vibrations is Good vibrations!!

Next day, I rather spoiled the euphoria by forgetting to fill the day tank, so I ran out of fuel half way through the afternoon, and had to go through the rigmarole of bleeding the fuel system before we could get started again.  This was whilst we were motoring along a dead straight canal, and through A Stink caused by farmers (illegally, I'm assured) spraying cow and pig slurry on the fields boardering the canal.

We cruised along the Hoge Vaart to moor at Kettlehaven, and to prepare for our next bit of open water.  This was across Kettlemeer to Zwartemeer.  It was blowing a bit as we crossed Kettlemeer, and a lot of sailing boats and sailing barges were out enjoying some fast cruising.  Personally, I would have loved to have been sailing as well, but on Rosy, I was relieved when we were in more restricted waters.  We had a slight disagreement with the lock staff at Arembergersluis, who were very slow to realise that two narrow boats, each 2m 10cm wide will fit into a 5 meter wide lock.  Then a gentle pootle along a narrow waterway, surrounded by reed beds, and with the occasional small, open boat, powered by fussy outboards and heavily laden with cut reeds.

When we moored I took the opportunity to change the engine and gear-box oil.

The next five days gave us some excellent cruising through a landscape very similar to the Norfolk Broads, but on a much larger scale.  There is an intricate series of lakes, interconnected with narrower routes - some natural, some artificial.  There are a few delightful villages, but for the most part it is open country, with just the occasional farm house.  There are quite a few free moorings available - wooden landing stages - but not many places to pick up water or electricity without going into a marina or boatyard.  For the most part, the weather stayed dry for us.  Two highlights:-

• Early morning cruising with the mists lifting off the water.
• Stopping for lunch by putting down a mud-weight in the middle of a meer.

One sleepless night.  We arrived at a landing stage in the middle of nowhere late in the afternoon.  In a nearby field there were some strange birds - black tailed godwits!!  I'd never seen them before.  Two of them flew over, and sat on a nearby gate, followed by a third.  My theory is that there were two males, courting the lone female.  The female was to choose the one that could squawk the loudest.  Squawk squawk squawk!!!  I eventually sent Fanny off to chase them away, which she did, but as soon as she was back on board, they returned.  Squawk.  So, as far as I'm concerned, you can keep your bloody godwits, especially indecisive female ones!!

I should also add that all the larger lakes that we went through were of no great depth - one to three metres was about average.

This wonderfully tranquil interlude finally ended, and we got on to more commercial canals to get through Gronigen.  Actually, we cruised through it a bit too quickly for my liking.  Gronigen was a very important canal town, with several boat yards making barges.  It has modernised itself, and is supposed to be a thriving town again. 

We cruised through it on the Winschoterdiep until we took a short branch to the right for Hoogezand.  Ship building takes place here, and we cruised by a large vessel that was being fitted out.  It had been built on the bank, and slipped sideways into the canal.

It was at about this time that we realised that we had 'A PROBLEM'.  It was our intention to cruise down to the town of Ter Apel, there to pick up the Haren Rutenbrock canal which connects this Dutch town to Germany and the river Ems.  Unfortunately, the authorities had decided that one of the bridges crossing the canal needed rebuilding and hence … the canal was closed for the next month and a half.

This was a serious disruption to our plans, as it left our 'visit Poland this year' plan in tatters.  We therefore made a major change of plan, and decided to potter through Germany this year, over-winter on the German-Polish border at Eisenhuttenstadt, and get in and out of Poland early next year, with the intention of being back in Holland/Belgium/France (who knows which?) for winter 2005/06.

There are several possible routes from Hoogezand to Ter Apel, though most are, in theory, on a do-it-yourself basis.  One needs a key (20 Euro deposit) to work the locks and movable bridges.

We had a very pleasant, unhurried time cruising around canals with little to zero commercial traffic, and not much pleasure traffic either.  Perhaps the highlight of this section was our time at Nieuwe Statenzijl.  A lock, and a high dyke separated our mooring from a stretch of water called the Dollard which is, in fact, the mouth of the River Ems.  At low tide, expansive mud flats come into view, and lots of wading birds feast there.  There are only three or four houses clustered near to the lock, so it was quiet and peaceful and devoid of bloody godwits!!

We were aware that an obvious route exists into Germany - to lock out onto the Dollard, and head upstream.  I think Mike was keen to give it a go, but I fear that I was extremely apprehensive.  I feel most uncomfortable on open water, more so on moving water and even MORE so on moving open water.  If we went, we would have to time it right to catch the incoming tide, and to have a good weather forecast.  Wind and tide can very quickly build up sizeable waves.

(In fact, shortly after our visit, we learned that Jim Macdonald crossed the Dollard on his rather special narrow boat 'Elisabeth')

A few days later we visited Termunterzijl, another point where one can lock out onto the Dollard.  It still has the old, brick built lock, though a newer lock is now used.  It is a place where visitors come on a fine day, and, as the tide was out, a group of children were playing in the mud.

However, our time soon passed and we arrived at Ter Apel to redeem our 20 Euro key money, and to head up the Haren Rutenbrock canal to Germany.

Toodle pip!

Bill

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The seaward side of the lovely old brick lock at Termunterzijl, on the Dollard (50 Kb)	A more detailed view of the seaward side of the lovely old brick lock at Termunterzijl, on the Dollard (57Kb)	The harbour at Termunterzijl, on the Dollard (40 Kb)	The tide is out on the Dollard, so it’s mud pie time (36 Kb)