Stavenisse

Unintentionally, we seem to have fallen into a cycle of going sailing every second weekend. The problem is we always face the wrong tide for trips down to the Oosterschelde: low water too early in the morning (for lazy sailors like us) and spring tides. However, tours of the Grevelingen or the Volkerak are getting a bit repetitive, so we decide to head south against wind, tide,... and lots of big ships.

It is noticeable that the season is approaching the end, as the Grevelingen lock at peak time was rather quiet. Once on the Keteen, we became aware that the skippers of the cargo ships have also returned from their summer holidays. They just kept coming and going. Beating against the tide and having to time our tacks not to end up in front of one of those huge beasts was hard work. Slow progress as well, because they really churned the water forcing little Mekicevica to cut trough big waves.

It became clear that we would not be able to make it all the way to Wolphartdsdijk as we had hoped (rather unrealistically). So we opt for plan B: Stavenisse. This small harbour is right where the Keteen really becomes the Oosterschelde. It is not a popular destination, mainly because the harbour is only accessible for six hours around high water, for deep-keeled boats, at least. As chance would have it, we were passing in front of Stavenisse three hours before high water, and there was a motor boat going in, showing us where the rather concealed entrance is. So, sails down and we motor in.

The lock was indeed open, and the narrow channel leading to the small harbour had enough water. We tie in at the visitor pontoon in a place that will be just deep enough at low water and go for a bit of sight-seeing.

The peaceful harbour of Stavenisse. 

Stavenisse is a typical "Zeeuwse" XVIIth century town, with a tree-lined main street connecting the harbour to the church.

Stavenisse church.

The town was hit badly by the 1953 flood, and 153 people were killed. If you think that even today less than 1800 souls live here, you get an idea of the extent of the tragedy.

A line on the church tower marks the level reached by the waters during the flood.

Of course, there is also a windmill. 

After our tourist bit, we settled with a couple of beers in the cafe overlooking the harbour. It was now high water, but only two other visiting boats appeared. The crew of the last arrival got themselves in the embarrassing situation of completely botching the maneuver right in front of a large audience sitting at the cafe.
Next day we realized that the clumsy maneuver was not a chance event but part of general inexperience (and irresponsibility in chartering a large boat with such limited knowledge and experience). In the morning, they tried to leave about one hour before low water, when the depth at the harbour entrance would have been 50cm at best. They were saved from getting stuck by the skipper of the other visiting boat who stopped them and explained that they could not get out for another four hours.
From their surprise, it was obvious that their arriving at high water the previous day was pure luck. They did not seem to really believe all this height-of-tide tosh, and left after two and a half hours. A quick glance at the tidal chart I had plotted at home showed that the depth at that time would be about 15dm. Their boat drew 150cm but somehow they got through. Who needs knowledge when you have luck?

Little Mekicevica could have gone out almost at any time, but we were determined to have a relaxed Sunday morning followed by a short run, shower and lunch. We had only 6 NM to do, this time with wind and tide behind us.
The return to Bruinisse was really a sedated affair, mostly on main sail alone and keeping out of the shipping lane most of the time. Even the Grevelingen lock was rather quiet.

It was another great weekend aboard Mekicevica. Hopefully we will have good weather long enough for a few more.