IN THE DOLDRUMS - FRIDAY 18TH JULY - WEMELDINGE TO WILLEMSTAD

 

Dave and Ria’s advice is usually without fault, so when they suggested that we spend a few days exploring the natural attractions of region we were in, we gave it serious thought.  Then we thought about how it will take another day to cross another estuary and the forecast for a marked deterioration in the weather on its way, and we decided with mixed feelings to continue our run north.  

When the time came to depart, we were still tempted to turn left and procrastinate, but faced with a glassy calm sea on a day,which they had warned would be long and hard, decided to stick with our decision.  On this particular topic we took so little notice of them they could have been mistaken for our parents, but we were keen to get on.

We pressed on into the wild grey yonder.   

Over the course of the morning we did not notice any change in the conditions.  Little did we know, we were frogs in a pot, and we were being slowly brought up to temperature!

The beauty of the greys and stillness of the water kept us transfixed, and keeping an eye out for seals was a novel distraction as we moved ever onwards against the tide at a steady six kilometres per hour, saluted byrather than waved at by hundreds of wind turbines lining our route standing patiently immobile.   

By the third hour of the morning with the hint of frustration creeping in, barely fifteen enjoyable kilometres had gone by, barely one third of the way to our destination, the temperature began to increase, the wind did not, the world began to melt into a kind of uniform grey splodge.   Not that there is anything wrong with grey splodge, but it’s a dish best served cold, and as the temperature reached the mid thirties on board we were beyond caring whether it came in any other shade.

Shade was what we longed for actually, or perhaps an air conditioner, but even if we had one, with not one wind turbine in the country able to turn even slightly there was probably not enough power to go round anyway.

Still, in the absence of any alternative we pressed on, pressing cool drinks into each other’s hands as we went along, wishing for the shade of a tree.  Oddly in our discomfort, we were passed by a continuous procession of speedier boats than ours laden with near naked, bright red people apparently enjoying the novelty of being dry roasted, admittedly in their cases with the benefit of significant apparent breeze.

Yes, the day was very long, and yes we had some mixed feelings about “missing” that south western corner of the country, and yes we had certainly had enough by the end of it, but two days later we are still slightly euphoric, pinching ourselves at the luck that the weather has brought, ready to make some plans.