North Holland

10th October, 2011 (Tony)

With the wind howling a gale (almost) and the weather unpredictable we shelved the idea of a bike ride and instead wrapped ourselves up in cosy motorbike gear — our new helmets are lovely and warm — and set off up the west coast hoping to get to Den Helder. The contrast in scenery was amazing. As we headed out of Alkmaar we passed through a mighty forest, easily comparable to anything we've seen in France. The trees were straight and tall and although it may be a small conserved area one soon realised that there was no shortage of sizable timber for the shipbuilding era back in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries when the Dutch navy comprised a formidable fleet. The forests were eventually depleted of course and there are very few remnants to be seen nowadays. Then we raced across some typically verdant farmland towards the coast. Suddenly we found ourselves in a broad expanse of sand dunes that seemed to go on for miles and miles. It reminded us of being in the middle of Stradbroke Island, or the Simpson Desert, except we were on a beautifully paved bikeway. The bikeway itself was amazing and they have no qualms here about motor scooters and small motorbikes like ours using the same path as cyclists. Further on we came across a dyke that followed the coastline for many kilometres. We stopped and clambered to the top where we struggled to remain upright in the wind. The scale of this man-made structure was staggering. Almost thirteen metres high, the face sloping down to the boiling ocean has been paved with giant cobble stones, all laid by hand; a bitumen-like strip extends above the wave-line and above that is another strip of even larger cobbles with some projecting higher to break up any storm wave erosion. The top and inland face is grassed. Thus the industrious people of Holland have increased their land area since 1918 by 7,000 sq km. Almost all of the reclaimed land is below sea level and is criss-crossed with a myriad of small canals to effect drainage. There must be some serious pumps working constantly to empty out the persistent downpours! The prospect of continuing north in a cross-wind that threatened to blow us off our motorbikes seemed foolhardy so we abandoned our attempt to see Den Helder, 30 km short, and returned toSable's comforting warmth via the canal towpath.

Our fascination with Holland's dykes began in Lelystad, in Flevoland, where we visited a museum to their history and construction. A wonderful movie portrayed the painstaking, back-breaking work as hundreds of labourers and machines battled the waves and tidal current to build the major dyke and close the gap between the North Sea and the Zuiderzee (now known as the Ijsselmeer) in 1933. It was no small feat but once accomplished it provided a much calmer inland sea to deal with. The work continued into the 60's and early 70's. None of it would be possible today due to workplace health and safety codes. A most impressive engineering marvel. The land appears very fertile and on our journey through Flevoland we saw many farmers harvesting onions, potatoes and carrots as well as silage.

Lelystad is also the home of the Batavia, a replica of the original ship that sailed from the island of Texel (near Den Helder) on her maiden voyage to the East Indies and was wrecked near an island off the coast of Western Australia in 1629. Almost all of the 332 passengers and crew survived the sinking of the ship but then followed a gruesome tale of mutiny, murder and barbarity involving the systematic killing of 120, many of them women and children. Eventually the remaining survivors were rescued after the captain and a few sailors completed an epic voyage to Jakarta to raise the alarm. The mutineers were captured after a furious battle, court-martialled and most were summarily executed. Two less-guilty mutineers were punished by being marooned on the Australian coast. Why didn't the commodore raise the Dutch flag while they were at it? If they had we all may have acquired a better grasp of the language and boast Dutch ancestors instead of British. The wreck was discovered about 1963 and relics and what's left of the hull are diplayed in a museum in Perth. A very gruesome tale indeed; and one we knew nothing about prior to our visit although the story has been recorded in a TV documentary. Walking about this tiny vessel one could only wonder at the stamina and courage of anyone undertaking a six month voyage to the far side of the globe in those times. It was difficult to imagine how 300+ people could possibly fit on board. How cramped they must have been. Only the children would have been able to stand upright. In a dry dock across the road a replica of a man-o-war four-master is being built. We walked around the scaffolding and admired the skeletal frame of the keel. The size of the timber beams and the carpentry that had gone into shaping and aligning the frame left memorable impressions. No chainsaws! All the carvings, sheets, rigging, blocks and tackle are being made by hand using traditional materials and tools.

Out of the blue, after weeks and weeks of shitty weather and strong winds, all of Europe was surprisingly blessed with a couple of weeks of gorgeous summer sunshine — some days topping 29C. We took advantage of the calm water and sailed across the Markermeer and right into the heart of Amsterdam. With difficulty we eventually found a mooring in Westerdock, close to the city centre. But being rafted onto an old, rusting hulk seemed far from satisfactory so after twenty four hours we moved up the Zaan to find our winter mooring port. Zaandam is only twelve kilometres out of Amsterdam so we caught a train back into the city one day and hopped on a get-on-get-off waterbus and cruised the canals — a great way to take in all the sights and explore the city. Much better than walking, especially on a hot, sticky afternoon. We've yet to decide whether Amsterdam warrants any special rating. It's certainly not in the class of Paris, or London.

We are delighted with our port in Zaandam. There are lots of boats of every variety, mostly owned by locals, with only a few live-aboards. Sable will be moored-up alongside Inevitable her six-year younger sister ship — also Delta Marine built, and almost identical though a couple of metres longer. Her British owners will be living aboard through most of the winter and along with the harbour master will keep an eye on Sable. Zaandam is a very pleasant town and all facilities are very handy to the port; and Schipol Airport is a mere twenty minute train ride away. But we weren't ready to stop cruising. So we set off, back through Amsterdam and up the Noordhollandsch Kanaal to Purmerend. We took the motorbikes for a spin to check out Edam, Volendam and Monnickendam — all picturesque towns that deserve more time to explore than we were able to afford. We also stopped at a cheese factory near Edam and bought some of their product: Gouda. Figure that out, cause we can't. But the cheese was good. Perhaps we'll find some Edam when we go to Gouda. Our final destination for the year was Alkmaar, a lovely city, where we have spent four days. On Saturday afternoon we strolled in to the town centre just as a huge parade got underway to celebrate the freedom of the town from a siege by the Spanish in 1573. The colourful parade with lots of bands and floats with everyone in period costume is held every year around October 8th. We understand Queen Beatrix was also in town but we didn't see her. And so, back to where this tale begins... our motorbikes are now stowed aboard and we're about to depart back to Zaandam — for the winter. We'll be back in April to set off through the blooming fields of tulips. Until then, our best wishes to everyone.