By eight this morning we had decided to proceed with plan A: we’d run the gauntlet of the drought and attempt to cruise on the river Dender although even then we were still a bit flexible about which direction we were going to tackle it. Since we needed to leave at nine to get where we needed to be if we wanted the tide to sweep us down towards Antwerp rather than back to where we started, some might think would be cutting things a little too fine, but between lock operating schedules and tide there were a few variables in play. If we missed that magic combination, we’d simply go the other way.
As it turned out we were in ship shape, ready to roll, or whatever it is that boats do instead of rolling, at exactly the stroke of nine which we took as something of a hint, exchanged the fondest of farewells with our Harbour Master and turned left.
As the almanacs had predicted, we rode the tide from Ghent to Dendermonde reaching a speedy twelve kilometres per hour at times under the bridges and round the twists as we failed entirely to keep up with the ships and other pleasure boat that had left the lock with us. By early afternoon we were on the Dender, at the beginning of what everyone tells us is a long, quiet and beautiful waterway.
We disappointed a couple of Belgian boats who thought they would be alone on the only mooring. They must have had some American friends staying with them for the last few days as well because they were just as happy as we were to sit quietly in their own space in the calm of the evening. That was until, with their permission we decided to launch our flying camera from our dining table, when in the nicest possible way, all Hell broke loose.
We spent a little time filling requests for photographs of other boats from odd angles and emailing them, before discovering that Belgians are quite capable of staying up even later than Americans!
1 comment
I’m glad you’re enjoying the Dender. I loved the Schelde too. What an amazing view of your boat!
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