Monday 27 October 2008

Turnhout to Lier

Turnhout to Lier

We left friends Anja and Jeroen late in the morning after final coffee, tea, chat, photos, presents etc and regretful farewells, and headed for Turnhout where we stopped for lunch.

The next few bridge keepers either saw us coming or were listening on the VHF (although they made no reply to our request for bridge passage). Then suddenly, about 2 kms before the first of the locks the hitherto silent radio crackled into life, “Blah, blah, blah, Riccall, blah, blah, blah.” “Oh help, it sounds like somebody is calling US.” “Riccall receiving, over”. “I am sorry, you can’t get through the lock tonight, there is a problem. You can moor outside the shop and the lock will be OK at 8am tomorrow.” “That’s fine, but it will be a bit later than 8 o’clock for us! We are not early risers!” “OK, I will look out for you in the morning.”

So we are moored 100m from where elements of the British 146th brigade, part of the 49th (West Riding) Infantry Division managed to bridge the canal and drive the Germans back, despite fierce counter attack, and began the liberation of the north Belgian people, in the village of Rijkvorsel.

We have also been able to stock up at the GB store (Carrrefour) where we are moored. Regretfully, Alex is on the wagon at the moment as the only antibiotic left in the medicine chest to counter an abscess in his gum is Metronidazole (strictly no alcohol with this one). This means we can’t savour the delights of the bar 20m away!

The next day saw us merrily on our unhurried way, and when we were waiting for a bridge at about 12.15 a man suddenly appeared saying he was from the Jachthaven opposite, had a tjalk for sale and was sure we must know lots of people in the UK who might like to buy it! Why not come, have a drink and look at it. So we moored up on his moorings as suggested, had a look/tea, took on some much needed water and promised to advertise his very nice tjalk:- 23m long, 4.5m wide, well fitted out, 500 hours on a new engine. His price is €155,000 (valued at between €185K and €200K and with commercial certification to 2018, so it can run on red diesel.

When Frank came to look at Riccall, he actually said “I like yours better than mine”!! and he obviously did. We thought that was so nice. Alex tactfully said, “Not nicer, just different”. Just before we parted Frank thrust an envelope into Alex’s hand. He looked in it and saw that it contained photocopied hand-written charts. We thanked him and thought no more about them till much later when Louise remembered them and we discovered that they filled in all the information missing from our other charts – most useful.

We carried on after lunch and at 3.30 we came to a lock which obviously had problems. This was also the first lock we had seen in Belgium or Holland that was still hand operated. The lady lockkeeper couldn’t get one of the paddles in the bottom gate to shut. We watched for a while then moored up and Alex went to help. But before he could explain how to take the pressure off the paddle by emptying the lock again, one of the old stalwarts appeared and did it for her.

By this time it was 4.15pm and suddenly a new ‘Hitler’ appeared, frenetically conversing with the other two lockkeepers and then told us in no uncertain terms that this was our last lock and we would have to moor up before the next one. Alex offered, “I thought you stayed operational till 5pm”. But Adolf was adamant. We don’t care, it’s a nice mooring anyway, and we had a long chat with several boaters from the group of barges just up the canal.

The following morning, Mein Furher, who penned us through the first lock, could not have been nicer (!) and we passed from lock to lock and bridge to lift bridge with little need for speech, as the lockkeepers knew we were on our way, and we noticed that the locks are slowly being mechanised on this stretch.

That evening we moored in a Jachthaven in Schoten – at €18 the night – but with free electricity, water and wi-fi signal, shops within 100m but, Oh! the cost of fresh milk in Belgium is 3 times that of Holland. (Louise says “I said we should have frozen more, now didn’t I?!”)

After a late start we finally got through the last two locks on the Dessel-Turnhout-Schoten Kanaal and out onto the big boys’ Albert Kanaal.

The first lock on this large waterway, the Koning Albert II Sluis was a triple, and after a half hour wait, being buffeted against the quay, while we hurriedly ate a buffet lunch, we were allowed into the biggest chamber of the three with another huge barge – Somtrams 2.

It was a 5.7 metre rise, but very gentle, and soon we were out onto the wide canal above following Somtrams 2 past other moored craft, blue-flagging the two barges coming the other way as they made to enter the lock. Well!!! Somtrams 2 had a metre-square blue sign with scintillating light in the centre as per the European regulations: we just stuck our blue-cloth-covered picture frame in the window of our wheelhouse!!

Soon we reached Viersel Sluis which leads off the Albert Kanaal onto the Nete Kanaal. The lockkeeper said we would have to wait outside for half an hour while his lock filled as it was set for coming the other way. Half an hour? What was he doing, filling it with a bucket? Anyway, he was quite right, it did take half an hour while we twiddled about outside, then of course once in, it took half an hour to drop us down 5 metres.

Worth it though as the Nete Kanaal is lovely – the best parts of the River Trent without the currents, and a few more places to moor. Eventually, we wound up at Lier Jachthaven – €13 per night, with the advice that we must visit the town – a small version of Bruges apparently. That means at least two nights, possibly three, depending on whether the locks ahead are observing Sunday opening times or not, and the time of the tides. The town had better be worth it!


Thursday 23 October 2008

Weert to Turnhout

We are now in Belgium having crossed the border (unmarked, on the canal at least) and bought our 7-month winter licence (E50). But just before we crossed, there was another car/boat fuel station. This time white diesel was E1.17/litre and red was E0.90/litre – the best yet, and of course free water! So both fuel tanks and the water tank are full and we have moored up above Lock 18 within a couple of kilometres of the pleasant little town of Bocholt.

At breakfast we watched as a crane unloaded from a workboat, which was sitting in the lock behind us, all the paraphernalia required to replace the lower lock gates – the new gates, of course, workmen’s cabin, generator, welding equipment, gas bottles etc. It seems we had just managed to get through this lock before a stoppage. On the roads you get contra-flows, diversions and perhaps a few hours delay. On the canals you get no-flows, no alternative route, and days or even weeks of delay so we felt lucky.

Our luck didn’t hold though. In the morning we started the engine at about 10.30 to move on, but when Alex went into the engine room to do his usual checks, there was a considerable amount of water in the engine bilge area. There shouldn’t be!

Having sucked it all out (about 4 gallons) with the aqua vac, we tried to see where it had come from: maybe the stern gland area – if the retaining baffle was leaking, or maybe where the cooling pipes go through the hull? It is always difficult to pinpoint these things, especially as the retained water first seeps into everything and then slowly seeps out again giving false sources.

The quick setting cement we always carry didn’t set at all round the pipes when we applied it (had it too long maybe), so we set off in search of a builders’ merchants. After asking twice and cycling 4 kms we did actually find one which had the essential ‘snel cement’ – sets in 2 minutes!

Although we were in a hurry to get back there was still time to pop into the next door Lidl for more gin. They sell spirits in supermarkets in Belgium whereas in Holland you have to get it from an off licence, though this is usually thoughtfully situated next door to the supermarket!

When we got back to Riccall we were relieved to find there was no extra water in the bilge anywhere but we put the new cement in round the pipes anyway.

We are currently assessing the situation, but it is uncomfortable wondering where we may have a leak, and if it may mean a dry-docking, investigation and perhaps welding. Ughhh.

In the morning all seemed dry so we set off onto the Bocholt-Herentals Canal. This had long boring straights but that tedium was offset by the glorious autumnal colours of the trees, and the regular appearance of WW II pill-boxes protecting the canal against Nazi invasion!

We scraped along the bottom at one point trying to get over far enough for a laden barge coming the other way (he didn’t even acknowledge us) then down through three locks to our night’s mooring.

At the first of these locks the friendly keeper let us in, then set the lock operation for ‘auto’ and went back to his tidying at the parallel redundant lock. The lock emptied but the gates didn’t open, so we waited and waited and Alex tooted the horn and tried the VHF channel all to no avail. Eventually, we sidled Riccall up to one of the lock ladders and Alex climbed up 4½ metres to find the keeper. ‘Oh, I thought I had set it on fully automatic – sorry – I will open the gates’!

The next two locks went without incident and just after the last one we moored up at the side of the now very wide canal on good bollards, only a bit too far apart.

We reckoned that being close to the lock the big boys would be going fairly slowly so not too disturbing. Wrong! The first one came up the canal like a bat out of hell and then slowed at the last minute for the lock. His wake followed after him and slapped us about quite badly for about 10 minutes. “Save the photo frames, Louise”! To be fair though, most of the rest did show more consideration and the lock closed at 9 pm so after that all was quiet.

The next morning, we turned onto the Dessel-Turnhout-Schoten Kanaal with the aim of mooring at Turnout for the night. This canal is very narrow in European terms and when the first unladen barge loomed up, coming towards us, named ‘Robert’! we really wondered how we were going to get past (not to mention how they passed each other) but we slowed down and got right over, and he powered past with a couple of feet to spare, ignoring us totally, and we rode over his wash like being back in the North Sea!

And then there was one in front going very slowly, and two coming the other way, so we stopped at a wide section to let them sort themselves out and get past. Unfortunately, we picked up something on the prop and no matter how much forward/reverse power we applied, we just couldn’t shift it.

So we laboured up to a wider section and tried to moor, but it was too shallow. We sat on the mud mostly off line, with a couple of ropes on, and Alex climbed down the rungs at the back to see what was there. But even tied on with bits of rope he couldn’t get enough purchase to get the offending ‘something’ off the prop. A local said there was a boatyard a bit further up the canal, so we set off again.

The ‘thing’ seemed to be getting more and more tangled round the propeller until eventually we were doing only 2kph for 800 rpm (which should give us about 7 kph). Something was clearly very wrong. We then saw a pair of low open floodgates ahead, whose supporting concrete bases stuck out into the canal, leaving a gap of about 8 metres in the middle for boats to pass through. The side pieces, sticking out from the bank by 4 metres or so, gave us something to reverse Riccall up to so we could access the back end.

This we eventually achieved by tying Riccall in place on broken bits of concrete and suchlike. While Louise went off to try and get help, Alex started to attack the triffid on the prop with the boat hook. Bit by bit, strand by strand, he managed to remove a barrowload of string which had wound itself round the prop. And suddenly the prop was free! Then a quick phone call to retrieve Louise who had by this time cycled 3 kms and found the library where 3 kind ladies were beginning to look up boatyards and engineers on the internet. Once Louise was back at the boat we saw a big barge heading our way and made a quick getaway before he reached our very inadequate moorings and slammed us backwards into the concrete.

We were pretty tired by all this so decided to stop at the first place possible. This was a haven in a wide ‘bay’ which was full, but just beyond were a couple of other big boats at the canalside and a GAP big enough for us. We asked if we could moor for one night and thus we met another lovely couple, Anya and Jeroen, and their delightful daughters, Marijne and Janne. They live on their 38m x 5m spitz in the beautiful original living quarters, and are gradually turning the rest into similarly lovely accommodation.

There was no water or electricity but it was miles from anywhere and free, and Jeroen very kindly let us plug into his generator which he ran for about 2 hours a day, so that just kept our batteries up.

We shared drinks and chat and ideas for several days, and visited nearby Turnhout, before regretfully we had to move on towards our final destination – Ghent, but we have decided Brussels is out of the picture now.

The real downer in all this is that somehow we have managed to lose our taft rail ensign. We took it out at one point as Alex climbed back and forth over the back rail then we know we put it back into its holder. But when we finally got moored up it wasn’t to be seen. We have ridden right down to the flood lock gates and way beyond hoping to spot it floating in the water; but no mobile phone story this time!

Alex has created a new makeshift flagpole and we have attached our spare, faded, tattered old flag to it. Oh dear, oh dear! Not really flying the flag at all!



Saturday 18 October 2008

Oirschot to Weert

Oirschot to Weert

Before leaving Oirschot we were able to have another quick look at our emails as we still had a signal even in the wheelhouse, unlike last night, and then we motored on. We had worries about finding a decent mooring last night, but this morning just around the corner we found free moorings just 50 yards away from where we had moored last night – just hidden from view!

The day passed without incident: bridges lifted, locks operated without any communication, then we got to Lock 5 and stopped at the free moorings just above it on the port side to have lunch.

On reflection, we decided that this spot was just so nice we would moor up for the day and cycle by the pretty route into Helmond, about ¾ hour away. Well, it took a bit longer to get there than we had anticipated, with no map and the locals not speaking English (I mean, honestly, not speaking English; where do these people come from? – only joking!!) but arrive we did eventually and had the obligatory cup of tea in a café by the old central kanaal, now sadly disused, and with fountains up the middle, which is we supposed, a reasonable way to deal with a redundant canal. Then we made our way back, this time just following the canal and that was a lot quicker!

However, the moorings were about as good as it gets for rural: no roads, no nasty niffs and quite a few slow going commercials to watch. This mooring gets 9½ out of 10.

That evening things were fairly quiet until about 7 o’clock when Alex suddenly heard a lot of engine noise. On looking up there was a 60m cargo barge turning round in the 70m space in front of Riccall, which unusually had no bow thruster. Alex watched for a few minutes then went forward and gesticulated, ‘Sorry for being here and making it difficult for you’.

‘Not at all’ came the gesticulated reply, ‘You have a perfect right to be there’ and a thumbs up! Maybe he has been reading the blog as well! Interesting how much you can communicate with gesticulations!

We left hoping to get to a place called Weert where George and Suzanna had said there were the much sought-after free moorings, but when Alex started the engine he noticed the stern gland pump warning light flashing and on investigation found the level switch had failed! So by the time he had replaced it we were an hour later leaving than planned.

Quietly moving down the canal through the autumnal mist we were a little surprised to see a barge on our side of the canal. Fortunately, Louise quickly noticed that he was displaying his blue flag. This is a device which indicates to anyone around that the boat in question is going to take to the ‘wrong’ side of the canal or river for some reason. In this case, the barge ahead of us was signalling his intention of mooring up on ‘our’ side of the canal to load. We duly moved across to the ‘wrong’ side of the canal and got an enthusiastic wave from him in answer as we passed. We felt we had joined the big boys’ club!!

However, it seemed we were just never going to get to Weert before the locks all closed at 4.00 pm (it's Saturday) but never mind, we are moored just above Lock 12 and Alex is able to sit out and enjoy the sun while Louise, bless her cotton socks, does a bit of painting behind the rear gunwales. Louise says, ‘It doesn’t get done if you don’t do it’!

Alas no unlocked wi-fi!

The following morning we woke up to a thick mist. After breakfast we heard the warning siren go in the lock behind us and realised that there was a barge on the move. We fired up the engine and set off before it emerged fro, the lock. At the next lock the keeper checked our length and asked us to go right to the front as there was a commercial barge behind – a bit daunting as he was unladen and thus much higher out of the water. When we got through we pulled over and let him past hoping to follow him in the poor visibility. As it turned out he was travelling much faster than us despite the weather so we had to let him go and feel our way ion the fog.

At the ninety degree bend a few miles ahead where the canal divided; we had to rely upon GPS and Noordersoft to tell us where we had to turn and keeping close in to the bank to see where we were going. Too close for the fishermen and as it turned out too close for us as we scraped across the bottom.

When we reached the next lock and got through we decided that creeping about in the mist was no fun and probably dangerous so we would stop till it lifted.

Alex is not sure whether keeping an eye on the wi-fi signal strength on the computer caused it, but he made a monumental cock-up of mooring in full view of the lock keeper! In the end he threw off the ropes, roared backwards to try again, just missing the patrol boat by about 6 inches and then went on to do a perfect parallel park. (More lessons needed!)

The plus side to a very early stop was a good wi-fi signal. We decided to stop for the night and post a blog, and later in the unexpected sunshine we cycled to the town of Weert for tea and a beer and general chill-out. No shopping on a Sunday here.

Next day we set off in better weather but stopped again at Weert to do the shopping.







Sunday 12 October 2008

Dordrecht to Tilburg via Waspik

We left Dordrecht (having consulted Theo – long term moorer in Dordrecht and knowledgeable about all things to do with the rivers, for the optimum time viz a viz the tides) at 9.30 am. ‘Rosa Klebb’ (the nasty one) was on duty so we had to wait 10 minutes (while she stuck a spiked shoe into 007 no doubt) before she deigned to open the bridge for us. But we did manage to get a grimace of a smile out of her as we left. We missed the turn off for the scenic route up the Wantji through confusion so decided to continue and do the ‘big boys’ route on the Merewede. We had already done the other route on the way into Dordrecht months ago.

Everything passed without incident (this being a Sunday it was very quiet) until we turned east onto the Waal. Not only were there three large vessels bearing down on us but the tide had turned and it was now wind against tide. So we had waves breaking into spray over the bow and breaking all the way back to the wheelhouse. Alex loved it! Then we turned into the dreaded Biesbosch, but this route was so different from the previous one which caused us to go aground. Here there was plenty of depth and apart from almost going round the ‘wrong’ side of an island, all was well.

We stopped for lunch at a flood lock about 2 ks from our day’s destination – Waspik, the mooring of our friends George and Susanna on ‘Aeolus’ where we were going to stay for a couple of days. Over lunchtime the heavens opened again and for the rest of the day we were submerged in cloud, torrential rain and mist and we decided to stay put and go on tomorrow.

The following morning we arrived at the yacht haven of G & S, whom we had first met at Dordrecht in July, and what a lovely spot – quiet, out in the country, no major roads. Yes, big boats loading up in a canal arm not quite opposite and so no disturbance but great to watch, and the town of Waspilk only 10 minutes by bike with an Aldi and a second supermarket.

It had been admitted that it was Louise’s birthday (reluctantly!) and when we returned from our shopping trip we discovered that the entire boat had been decorated with bunting and a birthday card posted through our letterbox. How lovely.

John the Havenmeester let us moor for E10 per night with electricity at a cost and water freely available. John not only runs the harbour but also builds 15m luxury cruisers in steel, which looks as perfect as GRP (plastic). He is a perfectionist and the quality of his craftsmanship puts us all to shame. He takes about 18 months to complete each project and it is all bespoke to the customer’s requirements, providing that John agreed with it! He does it all, except the paint finish.

When we first met George and Susannah in July they invited us to dinner, where they gave us a traditional Dutch meal, so this time when we were at Waspik we decided to return the flavour! So we had a starter of Yorkshire pudding with gravy followed by shepherd’s pie with sprouts, and apple crumble and custard for pudding. (We couldn’t do roast beef and Yorkshire puddings because you can’t buy a joint of beef in Holland without ordering days in advance from a proper butcher).

We thought it was a good joke and hoped they did too! The following day they took us to s’Hertogenbosch (yes, s’Hertogenbosch!!! but the Dutch wisely refer to it as Den Boss) in their car and gave us coffee and giant chocolate profiteroles (no less than 3 inches across!) as a birthday present for Louise. We cannot remember the official name for the cakes but they were wonderful – yummy, wow, wow!

G & S went off to the exhibition they wanted to visit and we agreed to meet up after lunch. Louise and Alex went for a boat trip on the canal, which now runs under the city, literally under. When the city ran out of space for more dwellings within the city walls, they had nowhere else to build but over the existing canals. The obligatory visit to one of the most magnificent churches in Holland followed and then lunch in the main square (warm enough to be outside to watch the world go by).

We spent two nights at the moorings at Waspik, then set off for the next stop – Tilburg. We caught up with a 65m container vessel ‘The Willem Alexander’ which was great, because he was expected by the lock and bridge keepers and we went with him through the locks and lift bridges – lots of them.

However, the second lock was a bit of a surprise, because our program said it was 65m long and 8.5m wide – only just big enough for the Willem Alexander alone. However, we were assured by lock control that we could go in too! In a moment we discovered why, as the Willem A shimmied over to the second, hidden half of the lock. The gate was only 7.5m wide but the lock itself was twice as wide with the exit gate in the 2nd (hidden) half.

Tilburg was our first stopping place and George and Susannah had given us a couple of places we might moor. At the first (alongside a new business park) an officious little ‘Hitler’, the security guard, told us to move on before we had even got our ropes on! The long stop was to moor on some friends of G and S’s who would let us do so on their tjalk but they were not at home when we tried to phone them and the other suggestion turned out to be fine.

When we left Tilburg the following morning we asked the friendly Dutch boater who was moored behind us if he knew of any moorings before Eindhoven, our next destination. He suggested that at the Beatrixbrug – in the turning off the main canal towards Eindhoven – moorings might be possible. And then he announced that he had been reading our blog!! How nice, but how on earth did he know about that? (Answers in the comments section please!)

Anyway, as it happened, we found a brand new mooring site a bit before the suggested place at Oirschot and stopped there. There was a machine for buying tickets but Alex couldn’t make head nor tail of it, so that’s OK, and an added bonus – a weak wi-fi signal. Best position for that was right at the front of the boat, so an extension lead and picnic table and chairs were set up at the bow and as the evening cooled, more layers put on as we posted our blog and read our emails!! Autumn has definitely arrived and with it the lovely colouring of the trees.

Oh, and only one commercial and two tiny sport boats seen today.



Thursday 9 October 2008

Delft to Dordrecht

Delft to Dordrecht

On Thursday we had a pleasant run south from Delft to Rotterdam – after the usual lack of interest at the first bridge, waiting about, no answer on the radio, eventually ringing up on the mobile at vast expense. And then - ‘Oh I see you, I will let you through’!

(Before we left wet and windy Delft where we had again been confined to quarters for a whole day due to the appalling weather, we did discover part of the secret as to the number of bicycles here in Holland; they actually grow them in their front gardens and we present the picture to prove it!!)

On leaving Delft we were heading for a place called the Cool Haven at the meeting point between the commercial and port areas of Rotterdam, and as we came to the only bridge that we couldn’t fit under without removing the roof (no way in those downpours), we caught up with a 65-metre carrier in front, also waiting. The bridge was undergoing repairs and as we waited, another 65-metre barge came up behind. And after about 10 more minutes another behind him. So there we were, all sandwiched and all jostling about in the breeze waiting and waiting. Then, after about half an hour, the bridge opened and we all started to surge forwards. The guy behind was very close so we beckoned him past, then snuck in behind him and in front of the last barge in the queue as he was somewhat further off. Through we all went, though Riccall had to pull up sharpish as we spotted a mooring. After a quick reccy on the bike and a leisurely lunch we decided to move on a couple of hundred metres to a place designated for ‘sport’ boats (usually means boats of 15 metres or less). The bollards were still too far apart for a boat of our size but there was a rubber strake on the quay and the position was right beside the lock where it all happens.

And does it not! At one point we had seven 60-70 metre barges all jostling about at the lock entrance – 3 coming out, 3 waiting to go in on the next lock-through, and one which would have to tread water and wait even longer. They were all powering about missing each other by a whisker. Amazing! The pictures do no justice to the scene. You just can’t capture a wide enough view to take it all in. And for these guys, they don’t panic; it’s all in a day’s work.

Our mooring was next to the University and only a 100m walk to the Euromast for the best view in Holland – 185 metres high. We paid our E8.30 each for a journey to the top of the Netherlands. By London Eye standards it represents pretty good value (by our standards it represents the fuel for 2 hours of cruising, but we couldn’t miss this experience). We had managed to miss it on our first visit to Rotterdam in July as we didn’t realise the mast was open to the public. The original was built in the 60s at 104 metres high – the tallest building in Holland. But then it was overtaken by taller buildings and the decision was taken to extend it. Thus the top stiletto was added, ringed by an external glass elevator, called the space cabin, which not only goes up and down the outside of the tower, but rotates at the same time! The trip up and down the top half was in fairly fine weather, as was our tea/beer in the mid level café but our walk round the outside balcony of said café ended in a torrential downpour, and the changeable weather certainly added an extra dimension to the experience. Most of Rotterdam disappeared into a cloak of unbelievable rain and darkness!

The commentary in the lift on the Euromast gave the usual history and statistics, population, nationalities etc, and made the point that 125 languages are spoken in Rotterdam, which underlines its position as one the world’s greatest ports, if not the greatest.

While waiting for our departure time from Rotterdam, which had to take account of the tide on the Nieuwe Mass, we biked out to a suburb shopping street for more supplies. In great contrast to many of the places we have seen in Holland, this was clearly an impoverished area with much council housing, added to which we noticed the evidence of the many different cultures both in the languages spoken and the dress of the people.

However, back to boating. Something went adrift with Alex’s calculations regarding the optimum time to set off! He assumed that as Rotterdam is on a river and Dordrecht is further inland, if we set off at low water in Rotterdam or just after, we would be carried by the tide to Dordrecht. No! It would appear not, as we plugged against the flow all the way, but as there was only around one knot against us, it wasn’t too bad.

But, boy! Were we out with the big stuff! At one point, we were overtaken by no less than five big barges, almost simultaneously: one on the inside, two side by side on the outside followed closely by another two. Well, good luck to them! We just plugged along at our own speed to the clear amusement of one of the crews. But, so long as they don’t actually plough into us, we don’t care!

When we got into Dordrecht and to the Damiatebrug where we had had our confrontation with the dreaded and dreadful waterways woman last time, a couple of calls on the VHF (one on the wrong channel) and the other (nice) lady opened the bridge without delay and let us in.

Ooooh, back to our lovely Dordrecht mooring, but not for long this time.