Who needs TV when we can have this?

In the last two weeks, we've had a few adjustments to make owing to Zoe's illness and its aftermath. Given that she now has to wear the dreaded cone to prevent her scratching the wound from her throat drain, I've had to devote more time to her and less to the jobs on my ever increasing to-do list. 

So, it was an extra pleasure to spend time onboard the Vereeniging the last few days and to wake up in the harbour to the rumble of great sea ships going past.

Happy in her new home

For me, this is one of the greatest advantages of our new mooring. Being on the sea canal from Terneuzen to Gent (Ghent) means we are constantly entertained by the passing traffic. Looking out of the Vereeniging's window and seeing huge cargo and container ships gliding past is a never-ending delight, especially late at night when the almost festive array of onboard lights signal their passing. I also love it when they're being guided by the huge, muscular tugboats that are for hire at Terneuzen.

Huge cargo carriers

Two muscular tugs at the bow

Another tug at the stern

But one of our favourite sights is the DFDS ships. These massive container carriers ply a regular route between Gent and Scandinavia in their distinctive, boxy, blue and white ships. They seem to fill the canal with their curiously space-age appearance and we can hear them coming for miles. The deep grumble of their engines is instantly recognisable and has us popping up from below like moles from our hole. To see one is to stop and stare at their ugly magnificence.

DFDS ply a regular route and can be seen daily on the canal

These photos weren't taken from the Vereeniging; we often walk along the canal and watch the ships,  so they give an idea of the kind of traffic we see at any hour during the day. It's better than TV and the kind of eye candy I can feast on all the time. 

Having my Vereeniging in Sas is probably the best kind of weekend/holiday cottage we could wish for. We don't have far to go; we have space around us for walks and relaxation; and we have a continuous procession of awe-inspiring ships to gaze at. Life can't be all that bad, can it?

Here's Zoe looking sorry for herself in her cone. Actually, she's quite used to it now and objected strongly to the softer comfy cone I bought her. She seems to prefer whacking her way through life in the the hard plastic one the vet gave me. There's no accounting...

Enjoy the rest of your week allemaal. It's been a fine but windy one here so far but we're battening down the hatches for a stormy few days to come.

A dog's life, or rather, life with dogs

It's been an odd and somewhat anxious week since I last posted. Apart from the exceptional heat (which is fine if all you need to do is sit and enjoy it but not so great if you have physical work to do outdoors), other things have been sent to try us. The most worrying of these was when I noticed Zoe, our little dog, was off-colour. At first, I thought it might be the heat, but even so, I felt her listlessness wasn't normal so I called the vet on Wednesday morning and asked for an appointment. Thinking it wasn't urgent, I accepted her offer to see us the next afternoon. However, later in the day things started suddenly getting worse.

When I gave Zoe her dinner that evening, I noticed she was having trouble chewing and swallowing, an alarming development. By the morning, she was drooling as well and her tongue was protruding from her mouth. Anxious, I messaged the vet again at 7 a.m., but there was no reply. Being a one-woman show, I guessed she was on call, and accepted that I'd have to wait impatiently until the afternoon. Zoe slept most of the day; even so, I was watching the drool seeping out of her mouth as I counted the hours to the time of our appointment.

Well, when we got to see our lovely vet, she was shocked and realised things were not good.

"Her tongue is swollen and her throat is full of slime," she said. "I can't see or do anything until the swelling’s gone down." She gave her a shot of antibiotics, another of anti-inflammatories and also an anti-pain shot. "Bring her back at quarter to nine tomorrow and I'll put her under anaesthetic to investigate," she said.

The following morning, Friday, was one I won't forget in a hurry. Zoe's condition had deteriorated still further. She was drooling blood, her tongue was hanging out even further and she was in a horrible mess. Oddly enough, she didn't seem distressed by it, but I was horrified and Koos and I were at the surgery door well before the allotted time.

The vet took one look at Zoe, gasped and immediately administered the anaesthetic.

"I'll clean her up and take a look. Maybe she's got an obstruction, a piece of wood perhaps, or possibly a burst abscess. I can't see anything wrong with her teeth, but until I look I won't know."

We went home in somber mood. I was sick with worry so I spent the next two hours 'pacing' in my own way, which meant working in the garden and preparing for the family to visit on Sunday, something we'd already arranged and couldn't postpone.

It was a huge relief, then, when the call came that we could go and collect her.

"I didn't find anything at all," the vet said. "No obstruction, no rotten tooth, no abscess. It's a mystery, but her throat was full of infected slime and I've had to drain it. I've never seen anything like it."

"It was awful," her assistant said. "Even I felt sick."

"She's had more antibiotics," the vet said. "The drain will have to stay in until Monday, so come back then and I'll check her over again, but if you're at all worried, call me. Any time."

We took our sick little dog home armed with pills and endlessly grateful to the vet for her willingness to be called, even at the weekend. After sleeping the rest of the day and the whole night, Zoe woke on Saturday morning already much improved and my worst job over the weekend was making sure the drain sticking out of her throat didn't get scratched off. 

This afternoon, I took her back to the surgery and the vet was visibly relieved to see how much better she was. The swelling has gone, her tongue is back to normal and the drooling has stopped. She's not yet quite 100%; she still tires easily, but she's getting there and she dealt with all the visitors yesterday without complaint. Mind you, that could have had something to do with two of them being her best doggy mates in the world.

After the op. See that little tongue still protruding?

So that's it, allemaal. No boats this week, and no DIY either, but normal topics will be resumed as soon as possible. When a four-pawed friend joins your family, life assumes a different perspective as those of you with pets already know.  For those of you who don't, please will you forgive my preoccupation this time. Thank you for reading this far and I'll finish with a few boaty photos for a bit of eye candy.

It's poppy season here in Zeeland

Last year in Antoing, Belgium

Somewhere on the upper Scarpe, we think.
This photo was seen in the Voix du Nord newspaper recently
but we don't know who took it, where, or when.

Preparing for boating adventures

This past week has been an exceptionally warm one here in our small corner of Zeeuws Vlaanderen, and even a whole degree warmer than pretty much everywhere north of us. Have I ever mentioned we have the honour of having our address in the warmest village in the Netherlands? It seems to be true because there's even a new sign up at the village entrance proclaiming this fact. Of course, this is an average and includes winter as well (to my joy), because the far southeast of the country around Maastricht often has hotter days during the summer.

Anyway, I digress as usual. Apart from finishing my sunroom (serre) wall, which, barring a couple of long screws that I need, is almost complete, we've been busy on the Hennie H, getting ready for our summer faring adventures. Most of this activity has been inside, partly due to the great loo project being the most important to accomplish, and partly because the hot weather has made it impossible to paint the roof and sides of the living area. Unless I can get up and at it by 6a.m., a time not suited to my own slow-to-warm-up engine (just a euphemism for the fact I don't do early starts), then the bulk of the exterior paintwork will have to wait for cooler, cloudier weather, 

However, I have started on the rear section behind the steering wheel, which is fiendishly difficult to get at and is therefore often neglected. The problem is that I can't get a sander in behind the wheel and regulator, so it all has to be done by hand. I have to bend myself triple and into unnatural positions, an exercise in contortion which isn't much fun, I can assure you, especially at my advancing years.

The area around the window is very difficult to reach with
a sander, so it mostly has to be done by hand.

Signs of neglect are always apparent
I don't enjoy being a contortionist

As for the loo, Koos has almost finished his work. He's even added a flip up table to the new back wall of our newly spacious WC so we can have a dining table rather than being obliged to eat on our laps as we have done in the past. Such a move has become even more necessary since acquiring our new shipmate, whose interest in food is of an all absorbing nature. We hardly dare eat anything on the sofa now, and I'm still amused by a question I read recently on Google: "How do I know if my spaniel is hungry?" The answer was a short "spaniels are always hungry". This has proved to be very true and I'm having trouble keeping the excess kilos off my increasingly tubby friend.

The two pics below show Koos protecting the sandwiches I made for him to take on a trip. Note the indignant expression on said spaniel's face.

Anyway, photos of the new loo and table will follow as soon as we've cleared away the tools and made the space look presentable again. Meanwhile, the new crew member has also been prepped for the summer by having a major trim. She hates being brushed and fussed over, so it was off to the experts for her. Unfortunately, her coat seems to be growing back fast already, but hopefully, it won't get too long before we're back in port again. I have yet to introduce her to the dubious joys of swimming. Spaniels are supposed to love water, right? Well, not this one. We shall have to see if I can persuade her to take a paddle at the very least, but bearing in mind her distaste for stepping in puddles, I don't hold out much hope.

Well that's it for this week, allemaal. Hoping you're all enjoying the glories of a hot summer if you're in the north, and a not too frigid winter for those of you in the south. I'll finish with some photos of earlier faring just to get you in the mood for this year's trip. More on where and why next time!

If, by any chance, you're interested in our travels through Belgium and France, here's a link to my first travel memoir, Faring to France on a Shoe: https://mybook.to/FaringForthAgain

 

Not seeing the wood for the obstacles

I missed writing a blog post last week because I didn't feel I had anything of interest to write about. Then, when I was chatting to a visiting friend this afternoon, I realised I was in the same position. 

"All I've been doing is replacing all the wooden planks on my sunroom wall," I told her. "That doesn't really make for interesting blog posts."

But then I got to thinking. Why not write about it? That's my challenge, surely? It's actually been quite a project, so worth a mention even if it isn't about boats. However, on that subject, Koos has been just as busy expanding the loo on the Hennie H; also not a particularly glamorous project, but it's involved quite a bit of problem solving with which I've assisted – or maybe hindered. I haven't dared to ask. But I have at least done some painting of its new walls.

Anyway, back to my sunroom planks. They're not thick and they're not short and there are lots more than two of them, so hopefully there'll be no comments on that front. Still, I have to admit to being a bit daunted to begin with and was very much hoping I could find someone to do it for me. Well, I did; at least I thought I did. The only problem was that said klus man (odd job man) gave me a quote, took my deposit and then promptly went bankrupt, leaving me with no option but to try and do it myself since he'd had half the money I'd put by for the job. I couldn't grumble too much, though. He left several others a lot worse off than me. 

After this blow, it took me several months to gather my courage and get started, an initiative eventually prompted by the fact the wooden cladding was visibly rotten and was threatening to fall off the wall if I didn't pull it off first. So I forced myself into action by ripping out all the rotten, splitting and peeling planks in the space of a couple of hours one afternoon. Apart from the four right at the top, which just needed some serious sanding and re-varnishing, everything else was quickly and easily removed; indeed, some of the planks at the bottom of the wall simply gave up and disintegrated the moment I touched them. It all made sense of my term of endearment for the house being the crumbly cottage.

Then came the fun of trying to find planks of the same type and dimensions. I never realised how difficult it would be. Wood. Good old overlapping rebate planks (I hope that's what they're called, because they aren't tongue and groove despite doing the same thing) were not easy to come by in the dimensions I wanted. Our local hardware didn't have them at all; the nearby DIY superstore didn't either; its equivalent over the border in Belgium offered them but only via the webshop and I couldn't order with my Dutch address. Who would have thought ordering a few planks would be such a time-consuming mission? Luckily, my Taurean persistence (some might say obstinacy) prevailed and I managed to order them from another supplier in Breda (100 kms/60 miles away) who were willing to deliver them for less than the cost of my petrol there and back. At last a good result.

Now, while I was involved in all these preparatory activities, the weather was dry, sunny and cool. Perfect for construction. But my friend Murphy's always lurking somewhere in the wings. The day the planks arrived and I was ready to get going, he decided to start turning the knobs on the temperature controls – up. 

I spent two days seeking shady places to put my trestles so I could treat both sides of the planks with what we call beits here. It's not just stain and it's not really varnish. In fact, it's coloured sealant that feeds the wood and protects it at the same time, and it's not supposed to be applied in the sun. Anyhow, as I worked away, Murphy was enjoying himself too and the temperature crept up and up, so by the time I was ready to start fitting the planks over the new insulation I'd added to the sunroom, we were up to 29C in the shade. Lord knows what it was in the sun, which (predictably) is where I was and still am working. Yesterday, we had 32C and today is likely to be the same, so I'll end this post here and get back at it before I turn the same colour as my new pine cladding. 

The halfway mark

Down to the ground, waiting for the
finishing trespa piece

I still have plenty to do, as the small section to the right of the door needs to be done and a section next to the sliding doors at the front, but the worst is over. 

We tend to be quite private about our crumbly cottage and where exactly it is. Mostly, I only show bits and pieces of it, but I love this painting my daughter did of the back of the house, so to finish with, I thought I'd show you. It has a stylised look that I like very much. The sunroom (serre here) is the the structure behind the ivy wall.

Have a good week allemaal and next week I'll show you the finished loo on the Hennie H. I bet you can't wait 😆

Harbour visits and visitors

This post is going to be a relatively short one. Mind you, I've said that before and ended up rabbiting on about nothing in particular, so let's see what I come up with. 

The thing is there isn't really much to relate this week. We've been blessed with some lovely sunny weather since last weekend, so much of the time, I've been escaping work duties to potter around my little garden and enjoy doing jobs on the Vereeniging and the Hennie H. There's always so much to be done, but this year we've started everything late. I blame the weather for that, though. It's only just warmed up enough to spend much time outdoors.

Today has been particularly lovely, so this morning we woke up on the Vereeniging with the sun streaming through the window and the reflection of rippling water on the ceiling. Lovely. Koos took the car round to the Hennie H with all our tools while Zoe and I walked over to continue with a project we, but mostly Koos, have been working on since the winter — expanding our tiny loo into a throne room of more comfortable dimensions (photos will follow when it's finished). 

It (the loo) was so small, even I couldn't easily stand to arrange my clothing, so poor Koos really struggled. The new enlarged version is infinitely more accommodating. Anyway, after making some very good progress with installing wall cladding and a ceiling, we returned to the Vereeniging the same way: Koos in the car, Zoe and me on foot. At just under a kilometre each way it gave us (Zoe and me) some exercise, and Koos and I wanted to take a look at some visitors to the harbour.

Hard to see but at the far end are two very cute small tugboats

Next week, from 1 to 4 June, there is a major classic boat festival at Ostend, called Ostend at Anchor, and some 150 traditional craft will be gathering there. If you'd like to know more about it, here is a link to the event's website. This afternoon, five beautiful old tugboats arrived in our harbour, participants in the festival who'd come across the Westerschelde (Western Scheldt) and will be staying overnight. I assume they'll be leaving for the next leg of their journey tomorrow. However, from Sas to Ostend by water is only around 80kms (50 miles), so not all that far. Who knows? Maybe they'll stay an extra day or stop in Bruges (Brugge) for a day. Whatever they do, they were a lovely sight to see opposite the Vereeniging and a welcome, if temporary, addition to our historic harbour.

More immaculate tugboats with flags flying

The Vereeniging from the other side

And a zoomed-in view

The Hennie H is just under a kilometre's walk
from the Vereeniging now. 

Still a lot of tidying to do in my scruffy garden, but I keep being
distracted by the view

Not very recent, but I found this photo on
my phone. Some random tulips and daffodils
growing at the edge of the lake near the cottage

Apparently, the fine weather is set to continue, so we'll try and keep up the momentum on the boats. We're also planning our summer faring now, so I'll tell you about that next time. See? It really is a short post for me, isn’t it? 

For now, then, have a good week, allemaal, and I'll be back with news and views from here in Zeeland next week.

 

Across the border

 

Last week saw the end of our endless rain here in Zeeland. Finally, the sun appeared and we were able to dispense with our Wellies, remove a few layers and walk in warm sunshine. All this just happened to coincide with my birthday, so to celebrate, Koos and I did something we haven't done for quite a while and crossed the border for a walk on the wild interesting side. In fact, I err greatly when I suggest Belgium is wild, as their towns and villages are very neat and well pruned, as demonstrated by Koos's photo of the road we chose to begin our walk.

However, we were soon in the country, and this is what I love Belgium for so much: not wild at all, but delightfully informal and much less ordered than our Dutch countryside, as the following three photos show. This was also Zoe's first excursion (or incursion) into the neighbouring territory, and she enjoyed all the new sniffs, not to mention a friendly encounter with a Flemish boxer dog. I couldn't help wondering if their accents got in the way of their canine communication, but judging by the tail wagging, the entente was very cordiale.

Having established friendly relations and had a lovely walk, it was then time for a cup of good Belgian coffee, which we consumed in the back yard of a café on the corner of the above street. The big German Shepherd that lived at the hostelry (or maybe she was Belgian) was not quite so welcoming as the boxer, but in the end accepted Zoe's presence with good enough grace. Even better, the coffee was delicious.

More locally, we also have some charming, informal corners, and our own small nature reserve near the crumbly cottage made an ideal walk on Saturday, especially now the trees have exploded into full and glorious leaf. I like the chairs outside the small house below and the air of relaxed disregard the owners must have towards their lack of privacy.

Yesterday, however, was a major first for me. My daughters treated me to a day at a bathing and sauna centre in Schiedam, near Rotterdam. I've never been to a sauna before, so was quite unprepared for the intensity of the 80C heat in the first room we entered. Later on, we tried a 70C room, which I found more to my liking, and as for the jacuzzis and heated swimming pool, they were delicious. It was a truly wonderful day: we swam, wallowed and steamed; we sat in the sunshine drinking coffee and snacking; and we talked virtually non-stop. Now, I'm hoping we can do it again sometime; I've definitely got the taste for it!

Today, unfortunately, it's been overcast for most of the day, but the sun is back this evening and there is promise of dry, sunny days to come. We have plenty to do outside, so keep everything crossed it remains fine. On Thursday, I'll be back in Rotterdam again, so maybe I can get some brighter photos of the beautiful harbours this time.

Have a good week allemaal. I hope you enjoy it wherever you happen to be,

Zoe’s first spuddle on the Hennie H

After a week of endless rain, we finally had two lovely spring days, so how better to enjoy them than on the water?

We spent them on the Vereeniging as a kind of weekend away, and had a surprise visit from my daughter and her boyfriend on Saturday evening as a Mother’s Day gift. My other daughter joined us too, and a very splendid time was had by all, including the three puppies (one per household), on the foredeck of the boat. We ate pizza, drank a glass or two of wine and fed treats to the dogs, who were as entertaining as exuberant pups will always be. 

But today we had another kind of celebration. We took Zoe to the Hennie H for her first ever spuddle in preparation for our summer holiday travels and I’m very happy to report it went very well indeed. Just for security, I attached her lead to the railings, but she seemed quite content to sit in her bed on deck and watch the world pass her by. 

After all the years of adapting our lives to Sindy, my beloved dobermann/labrador cross who was terrified of moving boats, I was nervous about Zoe’s response, but I needn’t have worried. She was quite unperturbed by the manoeuvring and the revving and took it all in her stride. I can’t tell you what a relief that was and, of course, she was rewarded in the way dogs love best — with treats. Well, this one does. She’s not a little tubby spaniel for nothing. 😁

Nevertheless, it was clearly more stimulating than we thought because as soon as we returned to the Vereeniging, she sparked out on the sofa and slept for several hours. Bless her. We’ll have to take her out a few more times to  get her used to it all, but this has been a great start.

In other news, it’s going to rain again tomorrow, so I’ll be back at the crumbly cottage finishing the redecoration of our sunroom. I wonder what you’ll all be doing, allemaal?  

 

The aftermath of the adventure

The only problem with writing about our travels is that I become so immersed in re-living the experiences I forget completely what I'm supposed to be doing. Maybe it's a kind of post-adventure blues, but I realise I've spent the past couple of weeks faffing around and doing very little except my paid work. I have a list longer than both arms of jobs to be done on the boats and (I hate to say) at the crumbly cottage. But I seem to have developed a peculiar lassitude at the very thought of doing maintenance and have jumped at any excuse not to get out there and get on with it.

Fortunately for my lazy side, the weather has been supporting my inertia. Far from being a beautiful, sunny spring, this April has been wet, cold and more than a bit dismal. Even Zoe has baulked at going out to do her business, which has resulted in one or two unfortunate 'accidents' indoors. I should add that my little princess doesn't like getting her paws wet, although I can't say I blame her...neither do I. But needs must, so the pair of us have trudged around the muddy roads, with me urging her to perform at every blade of grass, until she at last squats and drops. I in turn scoop the poop and, much relieved, the pair of us beat a hasty path home.

In brief, then, while I should have plenty to report in terms of jobs completed and plans made, I can only admit to cutting the grass twice, doing a bit of paltry weeding, hosing down the boats and looking gloomily at all the paintwork that needs refreshing. Until now, that is.

Today, I'm happy to say, has been a good one. We intended to spend the weekend on Vereeniging, but in the end, the weather again kept us housebound until yesterday. When we arrived, it was grey and cool but lovely to be back on board for more than just the daytime visits. We've done lots of those and even entertained Koos's son one weekend, but we haven't stayed over since we returned from our trip. 

The harbour is a lovely place to be and our view is better than a wide screen TV. Koos took the photo below this morning, and I should say this is a pretty usual scene on the Gent-Terneuzen Canal, but to be able to watch it from the boat is something pretty special.

And for a bit more of a closeup, I took this one below from our open hatch.

It can be quite distracting when ships of this scale come past twice an hour throughout the day, but for all that, I managed to clean and tidy the aft cabin, sand and oil its teak entrance and clean all the nooks and crannies on the engine room roof. I've also been busy cleaning the bilges, a lesson in love for oily bits!

Then this afternoon, we introduced Zoe to the Hennie H with its engine running. To my relief, she didn't seem bothered by it at all, and she spent a good half hour exploring the interior of the boat, probably in search of a stray snack. What the Hennie H lacked, however, I provided, figuring that if she associates running engines with nice goodies, she'll willingly get used to faring with us. I've bought her a lifejacket to wear on board when we're on the way. Doesn't she look smart in it?

Oh and one last mentionable event before I go: last Friday saw me back in Rotterdam for work. I arrived early in the morning, my absolute favourite time in the city, and I revelled in the tranquillity of my walk through the Oude Haven (my old home) and through the empty back streets along the river Rotte. Here are a few snaps I took just for the pleasure of the peaceful atmosphere in a city on the brink of waking.

So that's it for this time allemaal. Have a good one and I'll be back with more news and views from our world next week.