A Day of Contrasts

Stargazer leaves Scheveningen at 04.00 European time (03.00 British Summer Time) bound for Breskens. It is a dark moonless night. We're reaching fast, swooping over the swell, in the forecast 15 knots of north westerly breeze. The conditions we'd hoped for......Until, an hour out, the wind swings into the south west and pipes up to 28 knots (force 7). I double reef, then drop the main. 

Stargazer battles hard against the rising swell under jib alone. We're pushing about a knot of adverse tide (in order to carry a favourable tide into the Westerschelde later) and have both wind and rising seas against us. Progress is slow. On one tack we make ground at 3 knots. On the other we loose ground, giving an effective speed of about 2 knots. The seas are stopping Stargazer in her tracks. (See the heavy 45 foot cutter, under engine, on the same course as Stargazer was trying to sail, with stern up and bows buried. Photo taken later in the morning at the harbour mouth).

 At this rate it would take us over 24 hours to reach Breskens....and the wind is due to rise further in that time. I put Stargazer's helm over. She surfs back into Scheveningen at 8 knots. Both of us knowing that was the seaman-like course of action; and Stargazer, perhaps, wondering why her skipper hadn't taken it an hour earlier, instead of battling on.

Three hours after leaving, I slot Stargazer back into 'her' berth between the two rafts of 40 footers. We ferry glide in, stern-first, across the strong tail wind. 

In the daylight I can see that the trawler fleet have chosen to stay on their moorings in the Visserhaven. You have to be wise and wiley to be a trawler skipper.

"Ah, so now you relax and become a tourist for a while. The sun is out!" The skipper of a Gib'sea 302 (who took my lines yesterday) greets me from the dock, as I peel off my dripping oilskins and stow Stargazer's sails. So it is, and so I do.

I set off to drink in the Hans Christian Anderson, other worldly, calm of the United Nations Peace Palace. Before it, the UN flag cracks in the fresh breeze. Manicured parkland exudes statesmanlike order and considered judgement.The perfect antidote to a fraught morning at sea.

Revitalised, I follow my nose through Den Haag's enticing labyrinth of streets - and find myself in China Town. 

I picnic on the benches, in the inner quadrangle, of the Binnenhof. Today summer sunshine burnishes the gold leaf. 

Graceful Gothic spires lance the cobalt blue sky.

Gilded Grecian grandeur.....

.....stands shoulder to shoulder with intricately chased stonework in the European tradition.

Stargazer has got her breath back too, down in the harbour. Together we must come up with a 'Plan B,' to get us home within our three week holiday slot. All eyes will be on the morning forecast updates.They will shape the direction and timing of our next move.