The waiting game
The smell of fish was omnipresent in the industrial harbour of Thyborøn, the industrial harbour in the northwestern part of Jutland, isn’t quite the most picturesque harbour in the world even though it is surround by the coastal heath landscape with dunes and heathland that characterizes the salty ecosystem adapted to the harsh, windy conditions of Northwestern Jutland. In these surroundings, we waited with several other boats that were either north or southbound. One Danish boat, attempting to head for Norway, tried to stern out but had to turn back due to the harsh weather and large waves created by 3-4 days of strong westerlies. This waiting period made it feel as though we were preparing for our first crossing, as the upcoming trip was also expected to take approximately 3-4 days.
While waiting, we made the most of the excellent kitchen facilities, preparing delicious dinners—a luxury compared to the limited space, gas, and power on the boat. This also allowed us to prep some meals for the upcoming crossing. Additionally, we celebrated Coen and Femke’s first wedding anniversary with a glass of champagne.
Let's get into it - A North Sea gale
Where are all the other boats? On the morning of day four, we woke up to find all the other boats in the harbor gone, including the Dutch family in a 32-foot sailboat with two small children heading for Harlingen. We quickly checked the forecast and saw that it had changed, presenting a weather window for the crossing. However, we needed to depart immediately to avoid the next low-pressure system moving through. We sprang into action, readied ourselves, and left the harbor. We knew the first 4-6 hours would be easy, but the following 12-18 hours would be rough before the wind eased off again, allowing for a gentle sail the rest of the way to Scheveningen and The Hague.
As we left the harbor and entered the open ocean, Captain Coen shouted, “Let me hear those crickets!” to which Trine and Femke responded by firmly working the winches to hoist the mainsail. The forecast was accurate: calm for the first few hours into the afternoon, followed by winds picking up to 20-30 knots with 5-meter-high waves rocking Eva back and forth. For the first 4-6 hours, we sailed at a 60–90-degree angle, which was not ideal in these conditions as it placed the boat perpendicular to the waves. This required concentrated steering to tackle the waves correctly. Coen and I shared the steering due to the rough conditions, and I wondered if we had bitten off more than we could chew so early in the trip.
You gotta do what you gotta do
At one point, Femke and I were on watch together while Trine and Coen were in their cabins trying to get some shut-eye. When I have to pee, I really have to pee. So, I asked Femke if she could take the helm for a moment, promising to be back in a second. She seemed a bit hesitant due to the big waves, but she took over.
I hurried to the toilet, only to find the door locked—either Trine or Coen were using it. In a rush, I grabbed the bucket and went into the doghouse to pee while the boat rocked us around. Struggling to balance, I managed to finish my business without making a mess (at least, that’s what I tell myself). I thought there would be at least 2-3 months before I’d have to pee in front of Femke, but what the hell—I got it done quickly.
As I hastily pulled my pants back on, I shouted, “Femke, I’m ready to steer again,” expecting her to be very uncomfortable with taking the helm in these conditions. To my surprise, Femke was handling it like an easy Sunday sail on the IJsselmeer. “No, no, it’s alright, I’m all good,” she said. From there, she steered for the next 2-3 hours, guiding us through the North Sea gale.
Fair winds and a warm welcome
We were finally able to turn more downwind, 150 degrees to the wind, making the remaining 10 hours of the gale much more comfortable. As we got closer to the Netherlands, the winds eased, and we sailed the rest of the way to Scheveningen in low winds.
Upon entering the inlet to Scheveningen, Femke’s mom stood among the local fishermen at the end of the pier, waving a piece of orange cloth to welcome us. Femke stood at the bow, a fitting welcome home. The next days would be use in Scheveningen to say goodbye to Coen and Femke’s family and friends, and mark the final goodbye and the real start of our journey.