The meaning of de-greening

It's that time of year again, oh readers. Time to get on board and do something about the ravages of winter on my poor Vereeniging. To give you some context, the harbour where my barge is currently moored is on the big shipping canal from Gent to Terneuzen, where the massive North Sea Port locks lead the huge cargo ships out onto the Westerschelde and from there either east to Antwerp or west to the Channel. The canal is wide and open; it is also a wind tunnel. We have a surfeit of wind in Zeeland as it is, but when it is funnelled along the canal, what might be a mere breeze on land gathers the strength and force of a gale on this bottle-neck of a waterway.

The result is that it abrades my paint work with as much power as a sandblaster and all the good work we have done the previous summer is stripped away. Add to that the mould and moss that accumulate due to the clinging damp of a Dutch winter, and there is some spring cleaning to be done as soon as the weather permits.

I've written about the not-so-joys of de-greening my barge before, both in my blogs and books, but this year it has, so far, been more enjoyable. Over the last week, we've been blessed with some bright and sunny days. While I wouldn't go so far as to say it's been warm, Sunday was an exception and the temperature climbed to around 15ºC in the shade. In the sun, it felt quite a bit warmer, so daughter 2, aka, Jodie, my 2IC when it comes to all matters Vereeniging, opted to climb into our tiny boat and de-green the wooden rubbing rail. Armed with a bucket of cleaning vinegar and an old washing up brush, she happily scrubbed away at all the parts I could not reach from the deck. I employed a second old brush and container full of vinegar to work from the foredeck. Zoe supervised from the top step where she loves sitting when I'm working outside.

I think I can genuinely say a pretty good time was had by all, and Jodie particularly enjoyed the impromptu spuddle she took when changing sides. 

And so, repeat. A further rondvaart (round trip) ensued when she followed up the de-greening by oiling the wood, which helps to protect it.  Of course, all these photos cannot hide how much work needs doing on deck and on the woodwork of the rear entrance.

But we have also managed to sand and revarnish the mast. I gave it another coat after I took the photo below as the birds (which I've also written about in my stories) have yet again been using my barge as their favourite latrine. I swear they perch on the mast in a row and go 'ready, steady, poop!' in unison.

Still, once we'd finished those tasks, the temperature was dropping and we opted to stop for the day. Luckily, it is only the end of March and as long as April gives us some more of the same, we should be ahead of the painting game this year. 

And so it was time for me to have a spuddle too. Koos had come to see how we were doing, so he caught us in the act. Our little boat is a tad small for two people, but we managed and enjoyed our jolly up to the end of the next boat and back. A perfect way to end the day!

Wishing you a good week allemaal. The world might be in a very uncertain and precarious place at the moment, but when the sun shines and there is even the smallest boat available, life can still bring a smile to our faces. As Mole so rightly said in Wind in the Willows, "there is nothing — absolutely nothing — half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats".

 

 

A different kind of driving test

 I don’t remember exactly when it was now, but back in the early noughties, I took myself off to the UK to follow a boat handling course which also involved taking a short theory test on the CEVNI (Code Européen des Voies de la Navigation Intérieure or European Inland Waterway rules) to qualify me for the RYA (Royal Yacht Association) inland waterways’ helmsman’s certificate, valid in Europe as well. I did the course on a narrowboat on the Thames, then I took the theory test. It involved maybe a dozen questions on the rules, but that was it. I passed both, but I somehow never felt I was really qualified for navigating Europe’s waterways. I just had that feeling something important was missing.

For a start, driving a narrowboat on the Thames, upstream of the tidal stretch, in fine weather, didn’t seem like sufficient preparation for driving my Dutch barge with a wheel, not a tiller, on a very busy commercial and tidal river in windy, often bad weather in the Netherlands. The two just didn’t relate. Secondly, the theory test seemed skimpy to say the least. Since then, and because of my lack of confidence  in the training I received (not their fault at all – the situation was just too different), I have generally left all the steering and manoeuvring to Koos. He was born on a barge and to him it is as intuitive as breathing. It wasn’t difficult to accept that his skill would always be greater in all and any situation.

However, and this is the thing, I stupidly let my English RYA license lapse, and it’s now too late to renew it. As a result, and because I can’t always guarantee Koos will be available to be my skipper when necessary (of course, he’s always willing, but you never know), I decided to study for the Dutch waterways’ permit, known here as the Klein Vaarbewijs (certificate for operators of pleasure craft). There are two parts to this license and I’m aiming to do Part 1 only as I have no intention of cruising on wide waters where there might be waves. Big ones. I do not do the sea or its equivalent. I get hopelessly sea sick and that would never do if I were taking on skipper’s duties, so Part 2 is one I deem to be unnecessary for me. It also means no one can ever ask me to cross the Westerschelde estuary, my big horror. Smart, eh?

Anyway, I’ve been at it now for a few months and I am staggered by the amount I need to learn. It is so much more involved than the somewhat meagre CEVNI rules test I did, which amounted to knowing what a few lights, boards and symbols meant. Now, I need to understand the theory of manoeuvring with both a right and left turning propellor, what effect a bow thruster has (which we don’t have) and what the right of way rules are for sailing boats, both in relation to other sailboats and to motorboats. There is also technical stuff to understand about diesel, petrol and electric engines, both inboard and outboard, as well as regulations for the Dutch waterways and those rivers that are part of the Rhine system. The BPR (the Dutch rules) are often different from the RPR (the Rhine rules) as regards who has right of way in different situations.

I have to say my brain is spinning with all the different information I am having to retain and I’ll be very happy if I just scrape through the exam. I’ve booked it now so for the next few weeks, I’ll be practising during the countdown. Wish me luck and some nice easy questions! 😄

In other news, spring sprung and then slumped back into winter mode again. So far, March has been cold, wet and none too encouraging, but my forsythia is doing a great job of blooming with enthusiasm and we are getting one or two jobs done on board when conditions allow.

Here are a few photos to give you the idea that the world is waking up.

A sunny afternoon today

Our village

Commercial barge on our canal

My beautiful ship

Typical March. Undecided. Should it rain or 
shine?

Have a lovely weekend allemaal and I wish you all a peaceful, pleasant week. The world might be about to implode, but as long as the sun rises every day, we can have hope.

Pretty as all the pictures

We’ve been back from France a few days now and in that time, the spring has sprung, the waters have subsided and March is set to be as dry as February was wet. In the space of the week we were in the Haute-Marne, huge lakes reverted to fields and the waters of the Marne ceased their torrential rage and dropped a good 60 cm. It was glorious to see the sun shining, so Koos and I enjoyed seeing the villages come alive again. People started working on their gardens, sweeping away the debris left by the rain and storms and generally tidying up their world. I also noticed lots of activity with wood chopping, sawing and stacking. It seems our village folk are already preparing for next winter. Maybe we should take note!

The photos below are just snaps of some of the lovely days we had in the area. These blue skies did much for everyone’s spirits.

In my last post, I showed you a couple of photos of our local laverie at the beginning of the week. It was completely submerged in water then, and the river was lapping through the door. By Sunday, we could go into it and the water had dropped below the second step, which was incredible to see. It’s awe inspiring how fast these changes can occur.

The river was around the roots of these bushes the previous week. By the time we left, it was almost back to normal winter levels.

And the tree lodged against the bridge here was almost completely submerged when we first came to look at the waters. It’s  now exposed and will have to be cleared away, or it will become a dam which could cause flooding too.

And now we are back in our other lovely place where horizons and watery vistas take on their own special significance. This ethereal scene was at the creek a few hundred metres from our Crumbly Cottage early one morning before the sun had burnt through the low lying mist.

And here is a scene from my walk with Zoe this morning. Our village runs along a dyke so we can be out in the fields in no time. Here, I’m looking back to an old brewery, one of at least four that used to operate in this community. No wonder the Belgians like it! 😆 In fact, there are no breweries and no tramlines along the dyke these days, but the village really is very popular with our neighbours across the border. The population has a high percentage of Flemish folk and it’s nice to feel part of their culture too.

 Have a great weekend, allemaal. We will be busy with boats, I think, so watch this space for news on cleaning and degreening! 

Soggy and Boggy in France

 So yes, we’re back at our Crumbly Cottage Mk2 this week, making sure it hasn’t been washed away. Actually, we weren’t particularly concerned about that as Grand Est, while very wet, has not had the major flooding the poor souls in the south have had. It’s been appalling there as well as in Andalucia, Spain, and in Portugal. However, we were prepared for some inondation as it’s called here and were not surprised to see many places with lakes of standing water in fields that are normally dry and clear evidence of rivers breaking their banks.

Our own Marne river here in the village is higher than I’ve ever seen it, with some spots where it has lapped over into the neighbouring fields. What is most impressive is the speed of the flow. From being a usually fairly tranquil river, it has become a torrent of awe-inspiring noise, carrying tree branches and all sorts of debris with it in its race downstream. I took this short video of it from the village bridge.

Here are some other photos I snapped when I took Zoe for a walk along the path between the river and the canal.

The old laverie is completely swamped and full of water

Here, the river next to the laverie has broken
its banks

Another spot where it has risen over the bank

The ford where Zoe likes to drink and paddle is now too deep
to cross over.

There’s usually much more space beneath that foot bridge!
The mill in the background must be very noisy now.

More high water. It’s amazing the trees aren’t all uprooted

Yesterday morning, we had to go to Chaumont, the departmental capital, to do some admin at the tax office, so while Koos was busy negotiating his way through French bureaucracy, I went for a walk with Zoe. The weather wasn’t inspiring, but it was at least dry. Chaumont is a fine city built high above the Marne valley. We’ll definitely go back on a nicer day to explore more as this is the second time we’ve been in less than inviting conditions. Here are a few snaps to give an idea of its position.

Just beneath the high ramparts

Looking down into the valley from the ramparts

The city’s administration building is an example of the type
of archtecture prevalent in Chaumont

A rather nice bandstand in a small park 
opposite the city’s admin offices. If you
look through it, you’ll see more houses of a
similar style

We are hoping today will be a lovely one once the fog has lifted, so I’ll wish you all a good week, allemaal, and hope you are warm, dry and contented wherever you are.

Four seasons in one day

This past Sunday was one of those typical Dutch ones. I remember being amazed when I first came here from South Africa that we could have four seasons in one day, just like the Crowded House song. What surprised me even more was that it happened quite regularly, meaning we could have brilliant sunshine, torrential rain, a gale and snow within the space of 24 hours. 

In South Africa, the weather tended to be much more stable and predictable. Here in the Netherlands, you never know what you’re going to get next, especially at this time of year.

Yesterday was like that. We had a lovely morning walking in beautiful sunshine, but by 3 p.m. it had started snowing and it came down heavily. Daughter 2, Mo, had been to visit and headed back home just in time. This was what it looked like at 3.30 p.m.

 

Then, this morning it was raining, blowing a hoolie and miserable; we even had some hail, so dog walking seemed destined to be a quick dash between the showers. Surprisingly, the weather improved, so we managed not only a decent walk, but also a trip to the harbour to check on the boats. That was just as well, because our Hennie Ha had slipped her mooring in the gale and was floating across her berth ready to take off. Fortunately, the sun was shining again by this time and fixing her back in place was done without complaint or cold. It was a lesson learned, though. Our new mooring will need some rethinking.

Ten minutes later, we were checking on Vereeniging and the rain started again, without any warning. Well at least the wet stuff helped to clean the tarpaulin, but we naturally kept it as brief as possible. As I said, the Dutch weather is unpredictable, even fickle! Zoe loves cold, dry weather, but she’s not a fan of having wet paws…just like her mum. Here she is looking relieved after having her fluff dried.

Of course, I know why the weather’s not great. It’s Carnival time here in our area, and it’s guaranteed that there will be rain, cold, and anything else the sky can throw at us during these festivities. I never quite understand why anyone wants to participate, but there you go. It’s very popular and the costumes people put together are amazing! Wonderful colours and zany outfits. I saw a man today dressed up as a pony and rider. I still can’t quite figure out how that worked.

Enjoy the rest of you week, allemaal, and I hope your weather’s not too bad. It seems to have been extreme for so many people, and there’s been so much damage. Take care until next time.

A new spot in our watery world

So here we are, nine days into February already and we're counting the days until those first scents of spring creep into our noses, lift our spirits and brighten our days. We had a foretaste of it this last Sunday. For a few glorious hours, the sun shone and the temperatures crawled their way up to double figures. For us, it was perfect timing because we had to move our Hennie H to a new mooring in the harbour, so the weather couldn't have been better for our first manoeuvring of the year.

Okay, we didn't exactly have to go far, but there's nothing like the feeling that starting the engine arouses. The rumble of our steady diesel motor under our feet, the wonderful exhilaration of casting off the ropes, the delight of reversing out into the harbour, it's all great motivation for planning trips in the months to come. 

In reality, all we had to do was move three places sideways and into the corner of the harbour, a new arrangement that suits us perfectly as we've long hankered for this spot. It's more private, more easily accessible from the land and will probably make maintenance easier too. Although not quite the same as lying alongside, I can see possibilities for placing a small pontoon between the boat and the bank so that we can paint the sides. Whatever the case, we're very happy with the change.

The move was made more fun by having daughter 1, Jodie, along for the ride. She's learning the ropes both literally and figuratively, as she's going to be taking over Vereeniging one of these years. She was also a great assistant to Koos while he attached a new mooring pin to one of the poles. Jo has had many years of experience as a human clamp and she's perfected the art admirably. :)

That said, I couldn't help noticing that apart from all the usual maintenance that needs doing, we need a lift out to paint the waterline and the hull below it, so watch this space for forthcoming arrangements in that regard.

Back at the CC Mk 1 again, Zoe and her bestie, Lucy, enjoyed some cuddle time together while we consumed coffee and apple tart (a typically Dutch treat we all love). Don't they look absolutely adorable together? I love these photos of them.

 

Other than these snippets, there isn't all too much to report. I am busy studying for my Dutch boating license (I stupidly let my English one lapse) and I'm also doing some teaching, as well as the regular training for my examining work, so life is busy and fitting in the more creative areas I enjoy is not quite as easy. That said, my crochet, writing and DIY projects are still simmering away.

Looking out from our world here, I am praying the poor folk in Spain and Portugal gain some relief from the terrible storms and torrential rain they've been enduring. The stories from the region are heartbreaking and, tragically, a friend of mine has lost her home to the floods in Andalucia. Her house and land have been claimed by the river, which burst its banks and consumed everything within range. Her goats and horse have had to be moved onto a neighbour's land, while she and her husband are sheltering with another neighbour until they can find a way forward. They really have lost everything except each other and their animals. A friend of theirs in Spain has set up a GoFundMe donation page to try and collect money to help them survive the coming weeks. If any of my readers here feels like contributing – every little helps – here's the link: GoFundMe 

Have a good week allemaal and let's hope the snowdrops I saw this morning are heralding an early spring. We could all do with some of these small signs of hope, couldn't we?

Crafting new ideas

January hasn't exactly been an inspiring month. It started off with a heap of snow, which I can't say I enjoyed. I was six when I decided I absolutely did not like winter, snow or any other typical manifestation of that season. As for Zoe, she quite liked it to begin with, but then she got ice balls stuck to her legs and feet and that wasn't so much fun; nor did she like wearing the little snow booties I borrowed from my daughter much, but she tolerated them very well. I think we were more entertained by the kicking donkey impressions she made before she got used to them.

We are not amused!

Luckily for me, Daughter 1, Jo, is a master of crochet these days and she made me this wonderful hood, which helped keep the worst of the icy blasts off. I find it incredible that it only took her an evening to make it. 

My lovely monk's hood

On that note, I decided to try my hand at crochet myself while outdoor activities have been so limited. I've been getting a bit of cabin fever even though the snow didn't last long. I'm so used to being able to spend time outside, even if it's only for long walks, so the cold has been difficult to endure to say the least. Anyway, I've managed to make a hat, which some of you have already seen and I'm now busy with another one in a more complicated design, It's taking me a while as I don't have the patience to sit still for very long, but this was the beginning of it. 

The work in progress

I made a couple of bloopers in one row and didn't notice it until I'd got too far to undo it, so I'm hoping no one will notice once it's on my head, and if they do, well they're too close for courtesy anyway. 😊

This is the one some of you have already seen

Another project that kept me busy for a few days was adapting my kitchen stove to be more Val-friendly. I am not a cook and have never made any claims to be, so when we first found the CC Mk1, I was a bit flummoxed by the huge Boretti stove that occupies a large portion of one wall. I realised I was supposed to count myself lucky, but I had no idea what I could do with such a beast. It has six gas burners and a huge oven.

At best, we used two of the hobs and the oven was only turned on once a year when family came to visit. However, I now have a combination microwave, so the oven became even more redundant, and for the last two years, I've just used it as a cupboard. Then, with the increase in energy prices, I started thinking of replacing it and gaining more counter space by buying a smaller stove. Bad idea.

If I wanted a new all-electric cooker, I would need a new group added to the main electricity board as well as a new socket and plug for phase 2 or 3 electricity. My solution was to turn off the gas to the stove, remove the burner grates and the loose tops of the burners and make an extra 'counter' to cover two-thirds of the top. Then I bought a two-hob, free-standing induction plate, which neatly fills in the last third. The oven is also unplugged. The upside is everything is still there if we ever need to resurrect the stove, but now it's much better suited to my way of preparing and cooking food.

As for the Boretti itself, it's a fine appliance, and it still looks good, even if it's now just a cupboard with a small cooker on top!

A much more Val-friendly arrangement

I found the wood for the counter in the cellar, shabby and discoloured, but after sanding it, colouring it with garden fence stain and varnishing it, I was very happy. Koos then helped me by cutting the aluminium trim neatly to size and we used silicone kit to stick it on. I must say I'm very pleased with the result. 

We also spent one Sunday installing a rainwater tank in the garden. I've wanted one for a long time and now, at last, we have one. Hopefully, this will help water the plants in the summer although we have to seal the pipe that feeds the tank. With the rain we've had in the last few days, the tank is full and it's leaking out of the hole that receives the feed pipe. There's always something, isn't there?

I rather like its organic shape. Excuse the messy
garden, though. I haven't had the courage to go
and tidy it up!

So that's about it allemaal. Nothing very exciting and I wouldn't blame you if you've lost interest by now. Sadly, we haven't been able to do much on the boats except give them a clean up a couple of times, so news on that front is pitifully lacking. Here's hoping the weather cheers up some more and gives us a chance to get busy again. I'll finish with a boaty photo just as inspiration. Till next time!