The saga of the slipway

 This is effectively the sequel to my last post at the end of May, so I hope you'll understand its late arrival when I say that our occupancy of the slipway was extended by more than an extra week. The delayed start was only partly to blame; there were also public holidays resulting in two long weekends for the staff at the yard. The first was what we call Hemelvaartsdag here in the Flatlands. Literally that's 'Heaven travel day', but it is, in fact, Ascension Day, which is one of several religious feast days observed here in the Netherlands. Since it's always on a Thursday, it makes sense to many employers to let their staff take the Friday off too. That was the four-day holiday at the end of May, but then the weekend of the 7th and 8th of June was Whitsun (Pinksteren here), which meant that the 9th was also a holiday. In the end, I was grateful for the extra time to work on Vereeniging, and we managed to do much more than I'd originally anticipated. The other side of that coin was being pretty tired (a slight understatement) after a more than two-week slog; hence the tardiness in writing this blog.

I mentioned last time that we'd scraped the old tar off the upper hull and had started putting the primer on to the section below the water line. As it transpired, we painted primer on the entire hull up to the rubbing rail (berghout in Dutch), which made sense given that we'd stripped her back to the old iron. 

Doing the bottom is always a challenge, but Jodie, my daughter, had the brilliant idea of bringing two small platform trolleys she'd bought at Ikea when she moved house. We used them to sit on and scoot our way down the slipway under the boat, rolling paint on as we went. What a difference they made! Even so, it was heavy work, and we were both glad when we'd finished both the primer and the blacking of the bottom. We then put extra coats of black coating on the water line, which is always where boats get the most wear.

The next job was to finish the upper hull. What I hadn't initially noticed was that the intense high-pressure spraying to remove the tar had blown out more holes beneath the rubbing rail than I'd first seen. Unfortunately, the wood from which the berghout is made (hout means wood in Dutch) meant it was too dangerous to weld them; it is also the reason for the rust because wood holds water prompting the old iron behind it to decay. After consultation with the yard's welder, we agreed to fill the holes with two-component epoxy – not the most satisfactory solution, but given the time constraints and costs, it was the only thing to do in the circumstances. 

There were several places where the wood had also rotted, and we filled these with epoxy as well, although one of them was so big I had to use a mixture of sawdust and glue to pack it out first. Poor Vereeniging could do with some major renovations to the rubbing rail and the hull behind it, so that's something that will need planning. In the meantime, I used a length of angle iron to cover up the worst series of holes, and I realised that could also be used to strengthen and repair many of the other problem areas, but I can do that in the harbour from a small boat – I hope!

Once all the holes were filled, we finished the painting. Jodie and I focused on the rubbing rail and the red stripe above it called the boeisel in Dutch. (I don't know what it's called in English, but it's what forms the rim around the barge that stops you falling overboard from the deck 😊). Koos focused his attention on getting into all the nooks and crannies where the first coats of black didn't reach. The following photos are a record of what she looked like when we'd finished. Isn't it sad that we'll never see all our work like this again? Most of what we've done is now below the water.

That said, I can't thank my 'team' enough for all the work they put into those two weeks. Vereeniging is my barge and was my principal home from 2001 until 2020. But that aside, I'm ever conscious of her place in the history of the Dutch waterways, and I'm as passionate about conserving that now as I was when I bought her. As a result, I feel humbled that Koos and Jo are so willing to help me with her. When we came to the end of our spell on the yard, I was, as always, a little melancholy. It's such an intense period and I appreciated having the chance to give so much attention to Vereeniging, so while it's a relief that it's over for another two years, I would also have loved to have still more time.

Anyway, we are back home at our mooring now, and I'm happy knowing my old girl has had one of the most thorough maintenance sessions we've ever been able to give her. So to finish this blog, it seems fitting to share the video Jodie made of our descent from the slipway and our short trip back to our harbour. For those who might be deceived, the descent into the water is the actual speed, but the trip along the canal has been sped up to shorten the video. Our actual pace is a very leisurely 7 to 8 kph, not the rapid progress we seemed to be doing on the film.

I hope you enjoyed faring with us, however briefly! Have a great week allemaal and I'll be back when I've reset to normal life again.

Tar tears

This week we are on the slipway (helling in Dutch) with Vereeniging. It’s been months in the planning, but I finally got confirmation of my booking last Friday, which was a great relief. The weekend was spent preparing to go: battery charged, fuel tank filled, stern grease replenished. With everything in order, we left the harbour on Monday morning for the short trip south to Zelzate where we were hauled out just after lunch. Things moved slowly to begin with as it's a busy yard, but on Wednesday, the hull was cleaned with a super high pressure hose. That's when the fun began, though.

On our way to the yard.

Waiting for the lift-out

We had to tie up next to those poles to make 
sure we were on the trolleys

Koos chatting to the yard boss

Now we are being hauled out. There's a
powerful winch on the yard that drags the trolleys
up the rails you see ahead of Vereeniging.

Tied to the poles and on the way up

The trolleys underneath

On Wednesday, she was put on blocks ready for
the work to begin.

Random photo of the yard

A track leading out of the yard which makes
a nice stroll

Once she was up on blocks, one of the yard staff cleaned off her bottom but when he'd finished, he commented that there was still a lot of old tar on her hull. I knew this and have always baulked at stripping it off because it's a big job. Sand blasting would be the best choice but very expensive. However, Alex, the yard's main maintenance man, pointed out the risks of leaving the tar in place. I knew he was right and the evidence was clear. The old tar coating that skippers used to paint on the hull has a tendency to move. When it's hot, it softens, melts and shifts; when it's cold it contracts and cracks. I could see the ripples and breaks in the paint for myself, as this past year has been particularly hard on my barge.

So, I decided to have a go at scraping it all off. With the help of my wonderful daughter, Jo, we've just spent two days manually removing the thick layers of tar that remained on the hull. It's been a really tough job resulting in both of us having seriously smarting skin from the 'tar burn'. We both wore protective face masks and glasses as well as hats, but even so, the fine dust from the tar crept through the cracks and, worse still, into the corners of our eyes. Ouch! Tar tears are pretty painful tears, but it is at last done.

Me and my scraper

port side done; starboard still to go.

Our beloved pooches were so patient, sitting in the car. They're
happy as long as they can be together

But with the scraping done, on the port side, the painting could
begin, thanks to Koos. This is a primer coat.

Koos heading down to the water's edge to take
a photo. What else?

Tomorrow, we'll finish applying the primer and hopefully begin on the top coats. There are some anodes to replace and a couple of holes above the water line to be welded, so we'll probably be there until the middle of next week.

For now, though, I have the satisfaction of knowing we've done a thorough job and I can collapse into bed with my sore face and tar tears. I'm sure it will all feel better tomorrow when we can really get painting in earnest.

Have a good weekend allemaal. If it's a holiday for you, enjoy it! If not, I hope the coming week is a good one.
 

The merry month of May

It's already halfway through the month and we've still had no rain to speak of. Yes, it's May and despite the lush growth in the hedgerows, as well as my burgeoning tree (who would have thought it looked like a skeleten three years ago?), the grass is brown and there's virtually nothing to mow. 

My very healthy lime tree

And the not so healthy grass

The farmers must be getting quietly desperate although they still manage to look cheerful enough as they thunder along our dyke in their tractors. Mind you, I think I'd be looking pleased up there in those cabs as well. I've long had a yen to drive a tractor, but so far, that wish hasn't come to fruition.

Of course, while we were away, the petunias in my little garden fried, so I've now replaced them with begonias, which are tougher. Hopefully, I'll have some joy from them before we go away for the summer. I've also been back to Vereeniging, working on the steering issue, but there's not much progress to report there yet. I'm having to make temporary blocks from pine until I can find the self-greasing hardwood recommended by my friend, Tom. Otherwise, I've read that maple wood (esdoorn in Dutch) is used for bearings, so I'll try and get some and oil it well. It'll get there eventually, but it might take some time. Meanwhile, we'll get the old girl ready for her spell on the slipway on the 26th, which will hopefully be a short one as there's no inspection planned.

Tomorrow, we'll fill up all her oily bits and get her running. We only have a short way to go to reach the yard but it's along the busy Gent-Terneuzen canal where we've had problems in the past, so it's always as well to double check everything first and to know she's fit to fare next week. It will be so good to be out on the water again.

Otherwise, the only news to speak of is the family get together we had yesterday to mark a special birthday. The concept was so clever. My daughter organised a cocktail afternoon at the 'Memoir Bar' and my other daughter created a menu of special drinks based on the titles of my books. It was a lovely afternoon full of laughter, sun and relaxation and we all enjoyed ourselves no end.

The menu for the 'Memoir cocktail bar'

That's it for this week, then, allemaal. Although we need rain, please send up a plea that we don't have any for the last week of the month. I could do with dry weather for painting Vereeniging's bottom!

French village immersion

We've been back in France again for the past nine days, immersing ourselves in the Crumbly Cottage, Mark II and our village here. It really is an extraordinarily lovely area, with the wooded hills of the Marne valley beckoning us everywhere we look. My favourite place is undoubtedly down at the canal side where I take Zoe for walks every day. The Canal de la Marne à la Saône, now known as the Canal entre (between) Champagne et Bourgogne (Burgundy) is not a major route and rarely used by commercial barges, but I keep hoping I'll see a boat or barge on the move. So far, I've been out of luck, but the season's still young and the utter peace of the towpath is such a joy. All I can hear is birdsong, especially the skylarks that trill and whistle high above me.

We've been spending most of our time trying to pull the little house and garden back from the decrepitude it had fallen into, but in the meantime, there've been so many other things to note about our village in the Marne valley. 

The first is obviously the people. Everyone here is genuinely friendly and I, for my part, have the best ambassador in the world: Zoe. Of course, it will take time to get to know the village residents well given that we're only here for short spells, but so far, it seems almost everyone knows who we are and where we're from. One lady greeted me from her garden as I was walking past with Zoe one morning, and then rushed to her front door to come out and talk to me. We had a nice chat in so far as I'm able to chat to anyone. I do a lot of nodding and smiling and asking questions, the answers to which I don't follow so well because of the rapid fire delivery, but it's all welcoming and kind. Others have also chatted as I've passed and everyone, without exception, has been sweet to Zoe. Who needs introductions when you have an adorable spaniel? 

My French is undeniably limited, but I pick up enough of what they say to prompt follow ups, which is all I need to do. They rattle on and as long as I show interest with intermittent nods, smiles and 'mais oui's' (or 'non's'), the interaction is perfect. Voilà, conversational French in a nutshell. 

What else? Well, the flowers and blossom here in the Haute-Marne are glorious. Never have I seen such towering horse chestnut trees in flower. Then there's the wisteria and rhododendrons with their cascades of vivid colours. Not only that, but the greens of the trees that cloak the hillsides are stunning. They're rich, varied and positively opulent, ending as they do in valleys of velvet smooth grassland that feeds the fat, sleek, creamy cattle.

In the village itself, boxes of geraniums have suddenly appeared on windowsills and the scent of freshly mown grass lingers on the air. The villagers are busy with their gardens and the humming sound of active lawnmowers is an almost constant drone, along with that of tractors tilling the fields and the bellow of hungry cows waiting to be fed or milked. Wonderful country sounds that underscore the tranquillity.

Other details I've noticed are odd features like the uniformity of the postboxes and house numbers in the commune. In our Dutch village,  there is little attention paid to conformity and most people choose their own letterbox and number, but here, they seem to be all the same. The number on our house is on a small tile with a neat border, which is replicated on pretty much every other house number in the village. Likewise, the letterboxes are almost all standard, made from yellowish steel with a door front and back. The only noticeable differences are in the way they're mounted, which can be quite creative. I've seen some mounted on standard shelf brackets; others on steel plates supported by interesting curved shapes that are clearly hand made. Then some are set into walls while others are attached to them. Regardless of the position, though, the boxes are all the same.

Then, there are the cats. Almost as if designed to send Zoe wild, there are cats everywhere. Some belong to households, some don't, but every time we go out, we see cats dashing across our path. Zoe's relationship with our feline friends is, as they say on Facebook, complicated. She adores them indoors and will sit gazing lovingly at a cat for hours, but outside, they must be chased. As a result, she's on high alert here and begins every walk with a challenging strut as if to say, "Right, you feral felines. I'm here and ready, so watch out!" I have to be extremely careful to keep the gate shut, because if she saw a cat, she'd be after it in a flash. And our little house is right next to a busy railway line. That doesn't bear thinking of, does it?

We've now come to the end of our stay here and we'll be heading back to Zeeland tomorrow morning, which is fine as I love it there too and we have our own wonderful neighbours as well as the boats. But I'll miss the quiet canal, the birds and the utter peace of the village in the mornings. Below are a few photos of the scenery and also of what we've mostly been doing.

The endless trek with my new wheelbarrow
to dispose of the results of the our hedge
 clearing project

Eureka! I found the septic tank
buried by years of undergrowth.

Clearing gutters choked with ivy. Being the small one on the team, I was
the obvious candidate for climbing out onto the roof.

Sentinals of canal. The magnificent horse chestnuts

I've always liked rusty remains in land being reclaimed

Approaching a lock. One of Zoe's favourite walks is to go from one 
lock to the next and back

Beautiful sweeping field

Good mooning!

The view is lovely whichever way we look

Keeping the wheel turning

With the recent lovely weather, it's been perfect for doing boat work, which I really enjoy at any time but especially on sunny days. In my last post, I mentioned the hatch I've made for the Hennie H's grease pot. I've finished it now and am pretty pleased with how it looks now it's in situ although it highlights the other jobs that need doing!

Grease pot hatch done and dusted.

In the last couple of days, however, I've been busy trying to solve Vereeniging's steering issues which have been becoming steadily worse over time.

It's not that she doesn't steer well; she does, and the steering is very positive with little delayed action. The problem is that it's incredibly stiff and heavy to turn the wheel. I've studied the whole mechanism right through to the rudder and have been unable to identify what's causing the stiffness. Of course, it's a very old system and I have no idea what it might be called in technical terms, but it's completely mechanical. The photos below show how the steering wheel connects to the shaft that goes through to the stern where, at its end, a huge sort of horizontal cog wheel turns the rudder. Top marks for anyone who can tell me what type of steering it is.

Steering wheel with shaft that extends through the aft cabin
(the roef in Dutch) to the stern.

The two heavy duty cog wheels that do the main work of 
turning the rudder

At first, I thought the stiffness might have been because the cog wheels had become too packed with old grease, so I spent some time digging it out and cleaning the wheels. There's still more to do, so I'll keep returning to them, but it soon became clear that this isn't what's causing the resistance.

So then I went to the point where the shaft passes into the aft cabin (the roef). I'd noticed the old wooden support was cracked and the packing that was supposed to seal it from intruding moisture was completely dried out. This morning, I removed the support and discovered the steering shaft had a lot of surface rust on it. I've removed all the old hemp string packing, taken off the support and sprayed the shaft with penetrating oil prior to removing the rust. It looks a mess in the photo below, because that's what it is. Even so, I am doubtful that this is the real cause of the heavy steering. 

What a mess! 

Nevertheless, tomorrow I'll be making a new support as this one is finished. The bolts keeping it in place were totally rusted through and simply broke off. Plus, I have to scrape and remove the rust from the roef where the support was fixed to it, so that will keep me busy!

The next phase is to go to the stern and see if there's a problem there. It's a process of elimination, but whatever happens, the cleaning and de-rusting can only help to extend its life. So much of the steering system is open to the elements all year round it's inevitable it will suffer, and where Vereeniging is now she has zero shelter so the deterioration has accelerated. 

All I really need is for the good weather to hold as now it's perfect for doing this kind of project. I'm looking forward to going to France, but I'm a bit torn as I'd love to keep working on the boats while it's still so fine. Anyway, I shall just do as much as I can in the next couple of days

Enjoy your week allemaal and wish me success in keeping my old wheel turning.

April goes she will

Apologies for the feeble play on Paul Simon's well-loved lyrics, but it seems only yesterday I was singing the song at the beginning of the month, and now it's almost gone. So what have I been doing since my last post? Well, not as much as I would have liked, but that's because two weeks were taken up with the course I mentioned in my previous blog. It was very intensive and time-consuming so I didn't have all that much time for anything else while I was busy with it.

Added to that, my daughter went on holiday almost two weeks ago so I've been looking after her cat, which has involved three visits a day....I know, I needn't go so often but I've been feeling sorry for the little chap. He's not used to being alone so I've been delivering extra ear and tail scratches in the hopes he'll be a bit less lonely, and he's been very appreciative in a furry, purry sort of way.

That said, we've had some lovely walks in glorious, sunny weather, as well as a visit to the beach where we met up with my other daughter, Mo, her man, and her spaniel, Mack.

One nature reserve walk near us

And another

The lilac has now taken over the baton from
the forsythia

And this delightful group sits outside one of
the village houses. 

Then there was another walk along a farm track nearby

Plus the visit to the beach at Breskens

The beach is lovely and very popular in the summer

And then, there's this: Zoe doing what she does best
And looking adorable.

We've also managed some time on the boats and distributed the duties. I did some work on Vereeniging's panels, while Koos sorted out a problem with the cooling on the Henie H. Oh and I nearly forgot. Last week, I attended my first meeting as the Secretary for our Historic Harbour Committee, which was quite a challenge for me. I had to write the minutes in Dutch after the meeting, so I was glad I recorded it. As yet, I have to learn whether my duties as scribe are good enough, but fingers crossed!

One other job I've nearly finished is to make a new cover for our rear inspection hatch on the Hennie H. It's also where we access the grease pot. I made this one from a plank I had left over from renovating the sunroom last year. The grooves aren't ideal, but I shall paint it thoroughly. It always feels good to avoid buying material and to be able to use odd pieces we have in store. I must say I'm very pleased with the result and it fits perfectly, so hopefully we won't get any more rainwater in the bottom of the boat once the old, leaky one's been replaced. When I've finished painting this new one, I'll take a photo of it in situ. This white is just primer; it will be grey in the end.

Of course, there've been the other usual chores like cutting the grass, trimming the hedges and sweeping up the shower of leaf 'pods' the lime tree has been shedding since it sprang into life. Our local Lidl was doing a special price on hedge trimmers with batteries last Saturday, so we were there as they opened to make sure we could nab one. I've never done that before (arrived so early, that is), but I was glad we made the effort as by the afternoon, they'd all gone. I must say it's a brilliant machine and I'm really happy with it. What a difference it makes to have sharp cutters too. 

So that's the last two weeks summed up. Not terribly exciting, I know, but next week we're off to France again for a visit to the Crumbly Cottage, mark 2, so hopefully there'll be more to report from there where I can put my French correspondent's hat on.

Enjoy the rest of the week, allemaal. I hope life's being kind to you wherever you are.