Back in my berth again

Well that was a week and a half. As I mentioned in my last post, the man with the hammer came on Tuesday and showed almost unhealthy enthusiasm for finding fault with my 120 year old bottom. Well, find it he did: one thin area in front of the propellor through which he made a small hole, and a one and a half metre strip just above where some of the plates are riveted together. I shouldn't complain though. He was just doing his job and probably saved me a heap of trouble later on. But as I also said last time, I hadn't booked anyone to do the welding for me.

Tim's patch

True to his word, though, our lovely neighbour, Tim, came and welded a small emergency patch over the hole just before he set off on his own journey north to fetch a mast for his ship. We watched him leaving and I don't think I've ever seen his smile so wide; it was the first time he'd been away on his beautiful barge so it was quite something to see it moving.

A smiling Tim setting off on his own barge

That same morning, however, another wonderful neighbour, who is actually retired, came to offer his services. He was, bless him, concerned I wouldn't get another chance as the yard might be closing for good next year, so as a special favour, he collected up some odd pieces of steel and knitted them together to patch the thinning skin of my ageing Vereeniging.

The strip above the plate joints

It took three days of hard work, and three days when I had to spend much of my time crouched in the back cabin with the floor up and the cupboards dismantled watching for possible fires. My only company was a washing up liquid bottle full of water ready to squirt on any flames and a bunch of damp cloths to wrap over the old wooden framework of the cupboards, some of which were unnervingly close to the iron plates being welded. Rather wet companions, don't you think?

My properly patched up behind before painting

My only entertainment was posting cryptic messages on Twitter, but it did occur to me I could write the experience into a book about tips and tricks for restoring an old Dutch barge. The inimitable Roger Distill sowed the seeds with his own book 'Hints and Tips for Life with Your Feet Under Water (see the link here) as he'd already suggested I should do one for living on European waters.

Once the welding was over, it was down to painting again, so back came the rollers and black tar substitute. Koos and I rolled and brushed for all we were were worth until yesterday morning when the week was over and we slid back into the water again. After a quick check to make sure there were no nasty surprises after the welding and bashing, one of our other special neighbours towed us back to my berth. Next projects? Getting the engine going...again, sorting out the rust under the rubbing rail...again, and re-building the back cabin...again.

What was that they say here in the Netherlands? Koop een boot, werk je dood! (or loosely translated: buy a boat, work yourself to death)

Have a good week allemaal!

High and dry again

Just a quickie this time as otherwise I won't get to post at all. It's that time again. The man with the hammer has been and given his verdict on the state of my bottom, or rather, the Vereeniging's. I can't believe that it's already five years since the last time, and unfortunately, those five years have taken their toll. My lovely old lady needs a few sticking plasters on her rear end. Luckily only one of these is urgent as I don't have the time or the welder to do anymore.

I guess I was hoping in vain for a clear bill of health and I took the risk of not calling my welding friends beforehand. There's always an uncertainty with these inspections. You never know what you need until after the hammer has fallen. If you reserve a welder in advance, the chances are that you won't need him; if you don't, then you do (if you get my drift). Well I didn't and I should have, but never mind; my wonderful neighbour, Tim, who helped us last time, is going to save my bacon again. Sadly, he has limited availability, so we are just doing the urgent patch for the moment. I'll definitely reserve him next spring though...as long as he's still around...and there lies another risk! Will he or won't he? When my helpers live on boats too, there's always the possibility that they'll fare away. But I won't worry about that for now! We have enough on our plates for the moment.

Wish us luck, my old girl and me. We have to be finished by Sunday so we need all the dry weather and good painting conditions we can get!

Still fair for faring

The weather is definitely becoming more autumnal now and the trees are turning such a beautiful colour, but despite a few days of very heavy rain and chill winds, we are still having some lovely sunny days. So much so that we have had yet another quick spuddle out on the canal this weekend.

But before I get to that, I wanted to add some photos here of the very special sailing barge event that we went to last Sunday the day after I wrote my last post. I'd read that the Bietentocht (as it is called here) was starting with its traditional 'warm-up' event at the town of Goes, not that far away from where we escape to at weekends. Bietentocht means Beet tour and it is just that: a tour of sugar beet loaded barges that sail from one town to another in Zeeland over a period of four days. The boats are all traditional Dutch sailing barges and the event begins when they are towed by magnificent draft horses from the lock (sas) at Goesesas to the harbour in the centre of Goes itself. The horses used for this event were Belgians, apparently. They were not quite as tall as some of the English draft horses I have seen, but still noble and beautiful.

Koos and I agreed we would like to go and see the event, so we jumped on his motor scooter and sped 50km along the highway to arrive at the start just as they were beginning to match horses to barges. In the sunshine, at the water's edge with the bright autumn light, it was a truly captivating scene, and I think the photos speak for themselves:

Horses taking up the slack lines

And then pulling the barges

Without too much effort at all - one gentle
nudge was all it took

In their Sunday best

Bargees in traditional costume

And glorious paintwork

More dressed up gee gees

Barges in the lock waiting to be released

Barges waiting to enter the lock from the
estuary

Well of course, we had to wait and see them arrive in Goes, and that was also a terrific sight. The barges were literally crammed into the harbour.

Well, having seen this and after being so inspired by it all, I decided I wanted to see the end of the tour when it reached the small town of Willemstad, which is in Zuid Holland on the south side of the Hollandsch Diep. I knew they would arrive on Thursday, so after work, I met my daughter and her family and we set off to see the barges coming in. What a difference! In contrast to the previous Sunday, it was pouring with rain, and we had to make for the safety of a café, but not before I managed to snap a few pics of the boats crowding into this small harbour.

Reversing in to the harbour was the only way

Clippers, possibly the most beautiful and elegant of the
Dutch barges

Barges like sardines in a can

Wonderful shapes and colours

The clouds started to clear just as we left

But that wasn't entirely the end of the barging week. We had a couple of days of excessively high water in Rotterdam, which is always quite exciting. Would the water wash over the side of the harbour this time? It never has and didn't this week either, but it did lap over the steps where the café puts its tables, and many's the time they have had to evacuate that part in the past.

Water lapping over the top steps of the café opposite

Getting close to the top, but not quite there.
We can relax...

Back in Zeeland again, the sun peeked through the clouds yesterday and the air was balmy and sweet. We were supposed to be cleaning the Hennie Ha, but the pull of the open water was too strong. It was still fair enough for faring! So we cast of the ropes and took to the canal. It also happened that friends were visiting in their camper van on the other side of the bridge, so we picked them up and took them for a spuddle too. It was unexpectedly lovely and a real treat. We made it back just before the heavens opened again.

Today has been a bright, clear and sunny too, but much colder and I really feel that autumn is upon us. It's dark in the mornings until eight now, which makes hauling myself out of bed even more challenging than usual. In another week, the clocks will change, which will give my body clock time to catch up a bit; the leaves will be falling hard and faring will be fully finished (or maybe not if we are brave). But what wonderful trips we've had this year to feed my soul through the winter....and as I still have a book about it to write, I can live it all over again. Aren't I the lucky one?

One of those weeks

I've been all over the place this last week - literally and figuratively. Following my rather close relationship with gravity and tendency to embrace concrete too warmly (see previous post), I've been nursing my bruises carefully and taking life rather cautiously. That said, I've been very busy with work so my blogging rounds have been interrupted and I see I have a whole list of them to catch up with.

Just as a round up, I had to go to Amsterdam on Monday to teach at the university there. This is something I do regularly, but not often (if you see what I mean). The courses I teach for UvA are mostly online, so I only do the first session face-to-face, meaning I only need to be there about six times a year. Anyway, as I was walking from the station, I had to follow one of the lovely grachten (canals) that the city is famous for and I thought of Jenny Woolf, who asked me about the houseboats in Amsterdam a few weeks ago. So, here are a couple of photos to give an idea of what it's like there.

Looking through a typical granny bike at the canal

One boat that doesn't move very often, I fancy

An old hull with a practical build-up

On Tuesday, I was back in Rotterdam, starting a new course at Erasmus MC, the largest hospital in the city and an important part of the university too. I am teaching a group of HR staff there who have to help people from all over the world, so English is the common language. It's fun and they are lovely, so we all have a good giggle. They liked it especially when I took out my Swiss St Bernard's rescue dog pencil case. Always an ice breaker.

Then on Wednesday and Thursday I was back at the main Erasmus campus, but this time teaching academic writing to PhDers, so as I said...all over the place.

In between these sessions, I've been prepping for lessons, but also trying to work on the Vereeniging. You may remember that earlier in the year I posted some photos of the woodworm effect in the floor of my little back cabin. 

Since then, I've been keeping the bugs at bay with regular doses of anti-woodworm spray, but I realised I'd have to remove the floor after all - it really was way too far gone. However, this was a task far easier thought about than done. I've got most of the honeycomb-that-was-a-floor out now, but there are still two planks I can't seem to budge that will take more drastic measures. Once I have them out, I'll be installing a new floor made from thick plywood. Apparently woodworm don't like it, so it's the safest option, even if not very authentic. I shall paint it, though, so hopefully no one with a critical eye will notice. I'm also doing some more renovations inside, so watch this space for the photos.

So that's been my week! I'm back in Zeeland now and have Hennie Ha jobs to do too. As they say (and I've said too) koop een boot, werk je dood. Well, there are two in our family...my days are numbered, I think... what about you?