The Journey, Holland and Belgium
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Waalstrand Campground, Holland
My first stop in Holland was just across the Dutch/German border, not far from Nijmegen. Holland was my second country to travel through by kayak and I knew laws and customs would be different, how different, I wasn't sure. I wasn't comfortable with making camp on the first night on a lonely stretch of river bank when i wasn't even sure it was legal. In Germany, it wasn't a problem as long as you left the place like you found it, clean. When the Waalstrand Campground came into view I was relieved. A public area, friendly to campers and, hopefully, a source of some good local information.
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I beached the kayak on Campground beach, secured it and walked up to the office. A sign on the front door read: Waalstrand is closed for the season. I turned around as a small car approached, stopped and a woman stepped out and introduced herself as, Anciëlla and said she runs the campground and explained that, though the campground is officially closed, I was welcome to camp where i like, the showers and restrooms are open and warm, "Make yourself at home." And the cost for the night, I asked. Nothing, she said with a smile, we're closed. She got back in her car and went back to work in the campground.
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I set up camp on a grassy area near the office and after my evening meal, took a walk through the campground. The place was extremely well kept, manicured grassy areas, well trimmed hedges and immaculate, well equiped and well organized playground for children. Large outside sitting areas with a wide view of the Rhein that flows by about 100 meters away. For campground standards, I was really impressed.
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After a good night's rest, I was on my way again the next morning.
Tiel, Holland
At the the Tiel Port I met Edmund and his girlfriend, both from Lithuania on the Vrije Vogel (Free Bird). They make their living picking apples in the nearby orchards. They invited me over for drinks and we talked into the morning hours.
Kerkdriel, Holland
After Tiel, I continued on down river for 10 kilometers and then turned off the river, through my first lock at Sint Andries and onto the Maas Canal. There I was met with a strong headwind, so muc so, I turned into irrigation ditch and rested before I made my way onto Kerkdriel. I had planned to go on further but fighting that wind was grueling. I didn't know it at the time but this was just a taste what was to come later on in the trip.
Heusen, Holland
The wind had lightened a bit the next day and I continued on down the canal stopping mid afternoon in Heusen. A nice clean port with a wide range of services. It was the first time I was able to wash my clothes in a proper machine, cost, 6 Euros. The over night stay at the port cost was 9 Euros.
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Heusen is a beautiful small canal town with lots of history and sites to see. Very touristy.
The Ranch, Holland
It was getting late in the day and I was looking for a place to stay the night. I could tell by my charts that no port was near enough for me to make it in daylight and I was looking for safe place to moor the kayak overnight, some place sheltered from the wakes of passing ships. I came upon a smaller canal which turned out to be the dutch version of a driveway to a home. An elderly woman came out and asked me if she could take a picture, of course I said that would be fine and asked in return if I could camp on her private pier. She started looking around and I could tell she wasn't comfortable with me being there overnight so I offered that I would move on and look elsewhere. She was happy with that suggestion and I turned around and re-entered the canal.
About a kilometer down the canal I saw a small backwater channel and decided to take a look. It went back about 300 meters bending back to the left and I could see that the grass was well beaten down, possibly by fisherman or weekend partiers. Either way, it was a perfect place for the night. Tying Bold Venture to a large tree, I unpacked the boat and set up camp.
All went well that evening and I bedded down for the night. About 2 o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by the rattling of my cookware just outside my tent door. I slowly unzipped my tent flap as was a bit taken aback at the sight cattle mulling around my tent. A lot of them. The last thing I wanted to do was spook them and have them stampede over my tent so I just lay still and listened. I didn't sleep much until about an hour later as I heard them move on, I took another peek outside and saw they were headed back to pasture. In the morning, I saw by their tracks that they had come to "my" spot to water. No harm had come to my cookware as I had wondered if it would all be trampled in the night. Luckily not.
For lack of a name for the place, I decided to call it "The Ranch".
The Three Islands
I left The Ranch nice and early and made my way down the canal which rejoined the Rhein about 5 kilometers downstream. The river became very wide and I could see some very large ships in the distance. Also, I could see a large industrial/port complex to my left so I steered to the right side of the river to avoid any large ship traffic. I was a bit nervous. This was unfamiliar territory, and huge! The river at this point is over 2 kilometers (1.25 miles) wide with tons of ship traffic.
I made my way to Willemstad where I entered the lock waiting area and waited for the lock to open. A man came out of his Cabin Cruiser ahead of me and walked toward me to get a closer look at my kayak. He'd never seen a Tandem Island before and was fascinated by it. We talked and he invited me in his boat for coffee while we waited. He told me that he was a an off-duty Dutch Policeman taking his boat to a nearby port to put her up for winter. Seizing the opportunity, I asked him if it was legal to camp on the banks of canals and rivers is Holland. He told me, "Officially, I'm supposed to say no. But a lot of people do it, and if there are no fires, we overlook it a lot of the time but, it's not us (the police) you have to worry about. We have many immigrants, especially from the east who do not value life or property like we do. If you do it, be careful, keep your eyes open, and stay away from roads where you can be seen."
We talked on, mostly about his boat which had been built by his father, a 30 year labor of love built of steel and wood. I must admit, she was beautiful and he was very proud of her. He finally asked me where I was spending the night and I told him I wasn't quite sure yet, I would have to see how far I could make it and then start looking. He looked at me discerningly and asked, "Are you a naturist?" I answered, if you mean do I run around in the forest naked, no. He laughed as he knew what I meant. In most of Europe "Naturists" are nudists who spend a lot in "Nature". He asked, "Do you care about the environment, do you pick up after yourself, etc.?" I told him I always leave my campsites like I found them, like I was never there. He said he knew of a place where I would be safe to stay but there are conditions. You have to go there after dark and leave before light in the morning and you stay only one night. I said I was interested.
He told me, that once I was through the lock here at Willemstad, sail all the way down past the row of windmills on my right, once I got past them I would start to see some islands come into view, sail towards them and continue sailing around them until it is dark, there's 3 entrances to the cove inside the islands, choose one and wait until night and then enter. He told me, it's so shallow there that no other boats will enter and it's protected so it's prohibited anyway. He was right on all counts, past the windmills, I could see the islands and it was getting dark so I did exactly like he told me. When I entered the cove, I raised my dagger-board and rudder and locked up my mirage drive and paddled in. He was right, the water was little more than ankle deep. My paddles would dig into the silty mud bottom as I approached a suitable campsite. I made a quick camp, no tent, just sleeping bag with a poncho thrown over to keep the dew off, set my alarm for 5 in the morning. I awoke having slept well, made coffee, and set off at 5:45, in the dark, sailed out of The Three Islands.
Vlissingen, Holland
Having left The Three Islands very early in the morning, it was just sunrise when I reached the lock at Bruinisse and was promptly let through, I then continued south through a channel in the direction of Kortgene where, just before, is one lock that I negotiated through, also quickly and continued on south to Veere where I turned left into an even smaller canal that would take me through Middelburg and finally to the bay at Vlissingen where it opens to the English Channel. Having sailed 13 hours and making excellent time, I exited the last lock opening to the sea at 7 o'clock in the evening. Having a following wind most of the day, I had covered 68 kilomters/37 nautical miles in one day.
As I was waiting for that last lock to open, I hear "Yoohoo!!" from a woman's voice off to my right up on the bank of the canal. I looked and there is this woman waving at me and yelling/asking me, if I needed a place to sleep tonight. I was caught completely off guard and just stared at her speechless. I can't put into words, here, what was going through my mind at that moment, needless to say, my imagination had rocketed off to parts unknown... She finally said, "My husband and I have a place for you if you need it!"I recovered and answered, "Sure, thanks!" She then told me that once I got through the lock, to make the bend around to the right and go to the port at Vlissingen and they would be waiting for me there.
I did as she had instructed and sure enough, she was waiting at the port with 2 men who guided me to a mooring place that they had prearranged for me. She introduced herself as Froukje and then her husband, Paul and their professional photographer friend, Frank. They invited me into the port restaurant for a beer and we sat and got to know each other. I then learned that Froukje and her husband are a part of an online community of cross-country bicyclists that have created a an App called Warm Showers. It's a place where cyclists traveling abroad can get a meal, warm shower and bed from fellow cyclists, worldwide. Froukje had seen me peddling along the canal and thought, well it might not be a bicycle but he is peddling, so close enough, invite him in.
They settled me into my own room upstairs, next door to a Korean cyclist that was heading south along the coast of Europe. Before I left, we were joined by 2 German cyclists headed south inland, wanting to winter close to the Alps.
I spent 4 days with Froukje and Paul who complained, I didn't eat enough. They were used to hosting world class cyclists, like the ones sitting next to me, who need a couple of thousand calories a day. I, on the other hand, paddle some, sail some, peddle some, always at a comfortable pace, just didn't need so many calories. But it was a good place to clean some of my clothes and equipment, reorganize some of my pack and generally, just relax. I had a wonderful time in Vlissingen, but with all things, there's a time to move on, and I did.
Photos by Frank Viergever
The Zeebrugge Disaster
I've been contacted by a couple of people who want to know the details of this day, what exactly happened? I know, this is a story that needs to be told, but the internal conflict I deal with here is a difficult one. It's a day I'd rather forget. I promise, I will write it soon.
Zeebrugge, Belgium
Brugge, Belgium
By the time I reached Brugge, it was early evening. I hadn't planned on stopping and was concentrating on getting through it and the high volume of water traffic. I was just about all the way through when a voice from the city side bank called out and asked if I needed a place to moor for the night. The voice belonged to a British gentleman and he explained that he was the winter manager of the a port just ahead of me, about 300 meters. He said, that if I wanted to stay there for the night, he'd raise the drawbridge for me. I thanked him and said sure, better a safe place than looking for one in the dark later on down the canal.
He raised the bridge and I entered, moored between an English Narrow Boat and Cabin Cruiser and then took a walk into the city. Brugge is an old city, many American tourists were there. The city and surrounding canals are very picturesque.
Deinze, Belgium
Having left Brugge the next morning, I moved on down the canal and spent 1 night on the banks of Bruggewijk, just outside of Aalter, not much to see there just a safe mooring spot off the canal. After Bruggewijk, I continued towards Ghent. About 6 kilomters west of Ghent, I turned south on another canal and headed in the direction of Deinze. Here I came against a headwind that made for a difficult peddle and paddle, alternating between the 2 giving my arms or legs rest but yet still moving. I entered the subcanal of Deinze in late evening, it was dark and I was exhausted. I moored at the port and bedded down under a shelter just off the port office. I was thankful I didn't have to pitch the tent having been so exhausted.
The next morning, my leg and arm muscles were sore, the day before had been grueling and I wasn't ready to take off, I needed a day to recover so I decided to take a casual paddle up the subcanal into Deinze. I packed up my gear, loaded the kayak and took off towards town.
I had gone all the way through town to an old mill and turned around to go back to the city pier and moor off there for the day and take a walk into town. An American voice called to me from the window of a beautiful boat already moored to the pier. It was Gloria from Arizona. She and her husband Mike, from the UK, were spending some time in Deinze living on their boat, the Gem.
The Gem is a reproduction Luxemotor Dutch Barge (only 17 years old now) designed as a floating home. Beautiful inside and out, it was easy to see Mike and Gloria had put a lot of effort into their home. Mike told how he had personally worked on details of the remodeling of the ship, right down to knocking out the smaller dings and filling in the larger dents of the hull so she would have a smooth finish on the outside. I was truly impressed.
They invited me for dinner that evening, which I accepted. I showed at their door just as they were finishing up with cooking and, compared to what I was used to, it was gourmet! And I complimented as much. After the meal we settled down in the living room to watch Big Bang Theory. We talked and they invited me to stay in the guest room for the night and I reluctantly accepted. Living on the go, on a kayak, you begin to accumulate a personal—umm, aroma? But they told me the room had a shower and all would be fine. All in all, I had a wonderful time with Mike and Gloria, 2 truly gracious hosts. The next day, I moved on...
Gloria
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Mike
Kuurne, Belgium
Kuurne was my last stop in Belgium, a small town on the outskirts of Kortrijk, Belgium, 13 kilometers from the border of France. I was invited up to the port bar that evening but some yacht club regulars that greeting me as I was mooring to the pier. It was a nice quiet evening chatting with the locals. I stayed that night and in the morning moved on towards France which would be my third border crossing for the trip. I was a bit apprehensive about entering France, not knowing the language, the perceived tensions between the Americans and the French, the rules of the canals, which I had heard were very strict. I tried to put those thought behind me and hope for the best.
