I wake to the sound of groaning lines and whistling rigging. I have slept deeply and late, after yesterday's passage. The breeze has built overnight into a southern buster. Beyond the sea wall a force 7 churns the Waddenzee.
A gaff cutter rides the breaking crests...
twisting and turning across the swells, making determinedly for shelter. Her yankee, long since furled, is stopped down under her bowsprit.
A figure appears on deck and neatly drops the staysail. They round the final channel buoy and turn to reach in through the harbour mouth
The mainsail comes neatly down in the smooth waters of Oudeschild port.
A burgeoning fleet of bohemian, round cheeked, dutch barges have already made their way in...
...along with the rakishly chiseled Royal Netherlands Navy training ketch Urania, her decks a model of disciplined minimalism.
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