Four people, two nationalities, and one boat. Having diverse
nationalities on board can sometimes complicate matters—different senses of
humor, languages, and preparations in separate countries. Yet, there are
significant advantages. It offers a chance to deeply understand another culture
and find amusement in its quirky traditions. For instance, Coen and Femke can’t
help but laugh at the Danish word “kikkert,” while Trine and I
chuckle over the Dutch habit of sprinkling ice cream toppings on their bread…for breakfast?? Embracing our differences
has many benefits. Another perk? The opportunity to host two farewell parties,
which was one of the reasons we decided to sail Eva from the Netherlands to
Denmark.
The journey north started in IJmuiden where we said goodbye to Wouter, Jelle and Bart, only to invite Nena – the matchmaker who brought Coen and Femke together, and the officiant at their wedding. How lucky we are to already have so many guests on board so early in our journey – we hope that more of you will join 😉
Docking lessons
From IJmuiden, our first destination was Texel, one of the Dutch Wadden Sea islands, renowned for its abundant sheep population and delicious beers. The sail there was absolutely gorgeous with good winds and blue skies! Wow, what a way to start our trip to Costa del Texel. However, upon arriving at Texel, the docking proved to be less smooth than the sailing.
As we slid through the docking poles towards the jetty, a too-hard sideways pull from the landlines caused us to veer crookedly into the slip. One of our fenders—a large inflatable bladder designed to protect the boat from other boats, jetties, and poles—made a loud “eeeeioorgh” sound as it got squeezed between the boat and the docking poles, much like a fly being pinched between two fingers in slow motion. Luckily we didn’t scratch our lovely Eva, but we did get to pressure test our fender for sure! We quickly got Eva secured with two stern docking lines, two in the bowlines and with a spring, so that she was once more safely secured. Puuuh welcome to Texels.
While we were discussing what went wrong, and how we could improve next time, a German boat with 5-6 crew members in their 50s with their pro sailing jackets, sunglasses with safety straps etc. came docking right next to us. They were entering with a lot of speed, which normally tells you that the crew is VERY experienced, or that you’re overconfident with your docking. It turned out to be the latter! The German boat smashed into the starboard docking pole giving a loud hollow “buuum” as if they were intentionally trying to ram the god forsaken pole. After their little affair, they reversed and turned away in the pursuit of a new spot….still in full speed!
Five minutes later, while we were enjoying a cold beer, the party was back in town! The Germans again 😮 Only this time they arrived with even more speed, doing exactly the same thing as last time. Buuum! Smashing into the pole, only with the difference that they actually managed to get into the box this time, though they were in so crookedly that they were taking up two spots. We helped them tightening up their dockings lines, which got them on course again, and with the effort of 5 people on the boat, and the three of us, we got their boat secured. We thought that they might be going by the “don’t be gentle – it’s a rental” attitude, but nothing on their boat indicated that it was a rental besides the abundance of scratches on their sides. They even had the German “long-distance sailing club flag” on it. Perhaps the captain screwed up once, and tried to compensate it by speeding up, intending to show he had everything under control, which very much had the opposite effect. I guess good seamanship is not all about your clothes, your gear, your hours on the water, though these elements certainly help. Rather, it’s more about ones approach and way of acting in difficult situations – don’t try to be a hero – be calm and be honest about your experience, and act accordingly.
In any case, the entire episode made us feel like we had done a “relatively” good job. To celebrate, we headed to a bar not too far from the harbor for a Texels beer, crossing paths with about 200 sheep along the way. 😉
On the way to the Kiel Canal
The next morning, we set off for Cuxhaven, a journey expected to last around 36 hours. Navigating around the Wadden Sea islands requires careful attention to the tides, so we left Texel with the outgoing current. Despite having a 2-3 knot current in our favor, it wasn’t much help since we were facing a strong western wind blowing directly at us at 20-25 knots. Consequently, we had to power our way out from Texel to the open sea using the engine.
Unlike the open ocean, which has long-wavelength swells typically spaced about 50-100 meters apart, the waters near Texel presented us with 3-meter high waves spaced only 20 meters apart. It felt as though we were moving through a carnival crowd going in the opposite direction, with people bumping into us with their beers and other disturbances.
That night on the Wadden Sea was extraordinary, illuminated by a blood orange full moon that lit up our night sky and guided us through the brief darkness typical of our northern European nights. The moon brought back memories of another beautiful night on the Brahmaputra River. I was sailing on an old steamship from Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh, toward the vast Sunderbans mangrove area—home to the elusive Bengal tiger. That night, enveloped in warm tropical air with barely a breeze, I suddenly grasped why the Bangladeshi flag is green, symbolizing their lush nature, with a red circle in the center representing the striking red Bangladeshi moon that dominates the night sky. Those nights are absolutely priceless, as they plunge me into a state of timelessness. I could have been on a Viking ship in the early mist of morning, aboard the Endeavour on a starry night along the coast of New Holland, on a steamship on the Brahmaputra, or navigating the calm Wadden Sea under a blood orange full moon. Momentarily blurring the lines between past and present.
Back on the Wadden Sea, the orange full moon gradually dipped below the western horizon, only for a similar blood-orange, fully rounded sun to emerge from the east, greeted by two dolphins on the starboard side welcoming the break of day. Moments like these really make me ponder the Earth as a small, round ball making its way through an infinitely vast space, surrounded by countless other celestial bodies. This perspective might render our existence and our planet seemingly insignificant, yet it is still filled with so much beauty to discover.
As morning gave way to day and then afternoon, we found ourselves battling the current on our way into Cuxhaven. This struggle made the final stretch last a couple of hours longer than it would have without the tide, but that was perfectly fine—we weren’t in a rush. This delay allowed us time to observe all the seals on the sandbanks while we enjoyed our dinner and some pleasant afternoon music. We arrived in Cuxhaven just at the break of dawn, under the light of yet another blood moon in the night sky.
We took a short walk around the harbor to admire the other boats and stretch our sea legs. That’s when Coen noticed a few sparks in the water, realizing it was bioluminescence. Curious, we filled a bucket with saltwater, which shimmered with small, Christmas-light-like sparks. When we threw the bucket’s contents back into the sea, we witnessed something extraordinary. As the water hit the surface, a blue spark ignited, starting a chain reaction of blue light that spread outward in a circle for 3-4 meters from the point of impact. It looked incredible! We tried it several times, and it dawned on us that areas where we had previously experimented didn’t light up as brightly, while more “untouched” areas still produced a spectacular light show. It seemed as if the bioluminescent algae had expended their energy where we had already disturbed them.
We experimented with different techniques to maximize the light show. Just as I was about to throw another bucket of water, Nena suggested tossing it higher. I adjusted mid-throw, but ended up tossing the water straight up into the air instead, dousing myself in a mix of saltwater and bioluminescent phytoplankton. We all burst into laughter at my little show, and I was secretly relieved that no one had captured that moment on camera. 😉
Among the biggies
From Cuxhaven, we went to the Kieler canal linking the North Sea with the Baltic Sea. This route saves ships from making the longer and more perilous journey around the northern tip of Denmark via the Skagerrak and Kattegat. It is one of the world’s busiest artificial waterways, facilitating the passage of over 30,000 ships annually. The canal is a significant time-saver and also offers safer passage during adverse weather conditions compared to the longer route around Denmark. Also, the canal has held substantial strategic military importance. It allowed the German Imperial Navy, and later the Kriegsmarine, to move naval forces between the two seas quickly during both World Wars. Navigating through the canal was interesting for us, as it provided an opportunity to see some of the large ships up close. While cruising the open oceans, we often speculate about what these ships might be carrying or doing. But traveling through the canal gave us the chance to take a closer look.
We navigated through the Kiel Canal up to Rendsburg, a charming town located about two-thirds of the way along the canal. Rendsburg boasts a quaint old city center with half-timbered buildings and a beautiful, ancient church. There, we discovered a pub where we enjoyed a Weißbier and played some pool. Here Coen and I said goodbye to Femke and Nena and continued into Danish waters.
