2024 – Celebrating 10 years with my Old Dutch Lady

As the year draws to a close, I usually update this website and generally reflect on what has passed and what has yet to come. Every year has been full of the unanticipated, but this year has fittingly surpassed the lot. What a way to celebrate my decade as a “live-aboard” 2024’s adventure turned out to be! So why not pour yourself a cuppa and read on?

Back Where It All Began

Before I relive this year, permit me to indulge in some reflection on the ten years since I rid myself of mortgage, household trappings and a “normal” life. After two trips to the Netherlands and viewings of over a dozen potential floating homes, November 2014 saw me travel to Groningen to sign the papers for what was to become my obsession, my raison d’etre and the love of my life. What I knew about barges, or indeed any boat back then, had been gleaned from a few months of research and could have been written on a small piece of paper. My sailing experience was even less. So, to take on a historic sailing barge with the aim of restoring and sailing her was, let’s be honest, pretty foolish.

To buy this elderly ship I sold my modest house in Essex, where I then lived and worked. Hence, I was homeless until my floating home could be sailed through the Dutch canals to the coast and across the North Sea. I managed to purchase a very old, “project” motorhome and persuaded the manager of the marina boatyard, where I was to moor my barge, to allow me to camp between the yachts overwintering ashore. I had a small dog and two cats for company and it was only meant to be for a few weeks. A local skipper and his crew were appointed for the barge’s delivery and so began my anxious wait.

Some essential, though fairly minor work had to be carried out prior to the voyage. This inevitably dragged out, then Christmas holiday closure kicked in, and so I settled into my new, very cold and cramped routine in the boatyard – no doubt providing some entertainment for the curious marina staff and yacht club clientele! As the New Year began, predictably the weather changed and every day I woke to the wind buffeting the sides of my tiny home. The boatyard boys now greeted me cheerily with queries as to when this boat of mine would ever arrive and predictions of more of the same weather to come.

By the time February arrived, I think we all were starting to think it would never happen! However, all at once the weather settled, my crew headed East and I began to get progress reports. On February 14^th 2014, I stood trembling with excitement on the seawall as a small mast light came slowly into view and gradually turned into a recognisable shape as my ship finally sailed in. Drie Gebroeders, the old lady who was to shape the next stage of my life, had finally arrived.

The Early Days

The next few months saw me settle into the routines of live-aboard life and attune to the environmental elements of wind, weather and tide. Awareness of water and power consumption, settling a barge into a level part of a new mud berth (so that nothing rolled across the table) and having the ropes right as the tide rose and fell became an integral part of my life. My elderly cat also learned that a shortcut across the mudflats was not a good idea!

Meanwhile the barge cheerily waded into my savings, receiving a full new electrical system, service or repair of other systems on board, a full redecoration of the interior paint and fabrics and lots and lots of exterior scraping, painting and varnishing. I had the good fortune to find her original 1898 registration number etched into the hull but hidden under many coats of paint. So, with the expert assistance of some Dutch historians I was able to uncover much of her early history and her likely, original colour scheme.

Slowly over the next years a sad and neglected old ship began to sparkle again. The big project of 2016 involved construction of a new Douglas Fir mast, which took all summer. It eventually arrived from Kent on a low loader – any longer and it wouldn’t have been permitted through the Dartford Tunnel! The two lee-boards were craned off, weighing one ton each, for full refurbishment. All rigging had been condemned by the pre-purchase surveyor, so complete renewal of that followed the fitting of the new mast. It was a joyous day when the sails left storage and were finally fitted and hoisted.

Sadly after all this creative activity and the great depletion of my financial reserve I had still no way of taking her out to sail. Local sailors were either hardcore yachtsmen or already involved with a wealth of classic craft such as the Thames Barges, Bawleys and Smacks of the East Coast. However, an offer of employment in Kent in the spring of 2017 brought a relocation to that county and my first voyage aboard. I set off, at her tiller at last, on a moody May dawn with my Kentish crew hoisting an optimistic foresail. This was swiftly brought down again as we motored out into the Thames Estuary and an unfavourable wind. The sails would have to wait.

My time in Kent was spent amongst a fascinating alternative community of characters, many living afloat in various kinds of vessel, but also a few in railway carriages and self-built shacks. People unacquainted with this tribe may have dismissed us all as a pack of hobos and water gypsies, but many of my new neighbours had led incredibly interesting lives, had travelled the world, worked for international corporations and were supportive of each other and newcomers like me.

However, as chronic ill health and personal matters took a hold of my life I took the huge decision that I must sell the barge and move home to Ireland.

Moving Home 2018

Not many people can say Brexit saved their homes! I discovered the barge market had died in the uncertainty that took hold post-Brexit, so some months after the move home, I found myself standing on a hilltop overlooking Strangford Lough, waiting once more for my ship to come in. I had been very fortunate to find an experienced Irish skipper to sail her from Kent, but it had been another journey complicated and extended considerably by poor weather. It also proved impossible to find a mooring close to where I hoped to settle. So after more stressful months with Drie Gebroeders resting on a swing mooring near Portaferry I found myself over-wintering her in Newry Canal as plans B to XYZ played out.

Spring 2020 found me working in Belfast, with a mooring arranged in Bangor. Then a certain virus turned all our worlds and plans upside down, postponing this move over the first lockdown. By the time vessels were allowed leave the canal there was a motley flotilla of craft all making a bid for the freedom of Carlingford Lough and a carnival atmosphere filled the air as we all awaited the canal lock’s tortuous opening.

Sadly Bangor Marina proved to be a cold, expensive and inhospitable home for us. The cold of its exposed location was matched by the reception from many of its clientele! So after a year which brought more lockdown and the decision to give in to health issues and cease employment, Spring 2021 saw yet another move, this time to the more welcoming Belfast Marina. Here we settled in with the iconic backdrop of the Titanic Centre and soon became part of the visual landscape on the tourist trail. However, my diminished circumstances at this time weighed heavy and once more Drie Gebroeders went on the market and I prepared for us to part.

The Universe at Play

Then one day the marina manager introduced some Fermanagh men who were working on a nearby boat and who had expressed an interest in my old Dutch Lady. Over a cup of tea, and several in the following weeks, they learned of my predicament. At some point they suggested helping me with maintenance in return for the opportunity to sail her. As you might imagine, I jumped at this chance and before I knew it we were sailing up Belfast Lough to Carrickfergus for a bottom scrub and survey. That summer was so much fun. My Motley Crew sailed us to Rathlin Island for the Maritime Festival – 12 hot sunny days which have become legendary with all involved. The sun shone, we squeezed a record number of sleepers on board at the weekend, DG flew her flags for the first time in many years and took pride of place amongst an eclectic mix of vessels large and small. My little ship had come alive once more!

Fermanagh bound

At some point during all this activity I realised that it would make sense to move nearer to these wonderful sailors and friends, so by the end of the year plans were set. As the locks of Dublin canals are a couple of inches narrower than our hull, overland was the best way to get onto the inland waterways of Lough Erne. County Fermanagh. If you have never driven down a motorway behind your home perched on a truck, let me tell you it is quite a scary experience!

However, thanks to the expertise of our haulier we were soon back afloat and safely settled into my new home berth near Lisnaskea. Summer 2023 saw us exploring not just Lough Erne, but further south. With a revolving, mainly female, crew and the occasional press-ganged passer-by we sailed through the Shannon-Erne Canal to the River Shannon and down as far as Lough Ree and Athlone. Unusually high water levels that summer prevented further southward travel but another unforgettable voyage went into the log book and the collective memory.

Erne to Inverness 2024

Buoyed by the success of this season of travels, I couldn’t refuse when my trusted skipper suggested our next adventure. He had long wanted to return to the Caledonian Canal at leisure, having travelled it many years before but at a pace required by business pressures. Of course, we couldn’t leave it at that! Before long our itinerary included a return to the Rathlin Island Maritime Festival, an extension to the trip along the coast beyond Inverness to Portsoy for the Scottish Traditional Boats Festival and a detour through the Crinan Canal, around the Kyles of Bute and down the Clyde Estuary on the way home. To make it worthwhile we also made it a charity fundraiser for mental health and well-being.

Once again we hired our trusted haulier, and after a busy time of planning, preparation and painting we left Lough Erne in temperatures that were melting the tarmac. However by the time our convoy reached the Antrim coast the weather was changing and our departure from Carrickfergus was delayed by a stormy couple of days. Soon enough we were bound for Rathlin Island, still optimistically hoping for the summer to arrive. Alas, we were to be disappointed. A ten day festival turned into an uncomfortably rough twenty day stay with only one sunny, warm day amongst them. Whilst the festival programme was as excellent as ever, I for one had seen enough of the place, wonderful as it is, by the time we escaped in the direction of Scotland.

The pressure was now on to reach Portsoy in time for the festival. Having lost so many days our plans for a leisurely trip via the islands was swiftly abandoned and we made haste further north to the tranquil haven of Tayvallick. In this picturesque bay we found a wonderful warm welcome, friendly locals and very tasty food in the bar/restaurant. We were allowed squat on the fishermen’s pier, although this meant moving off for a circuit of the bay when they needed to land a catch! More poor weather kept us there an extra day but soon we were on our way north-east once more. The weather improved and the landscape became more and more beautiful as we neared Oban, dodging a ferry as we joined an array of charter vessels on the North Pier.

Still under time pressure we moved on next day, passing Fortwilliam and entering the Carpach Basin and the calm of the Caledonian Canal. More friendly locals and the first of a long line of welcoming and helpful lock-keepers saw us on our way up Neptune’s Staircase the next morning – after a pause to watch a vintage steam train puff across the bridge ahead!

Travelling the Caledonian Canal was a delight. The lock-keepers were second to none in their cheery helpfulness, often radio-ing ahead so the next lockie was expecting us. The scenery was jaw-dropping. And for boat enthusiasts like me, there was an endless array of unusual craft passing by. Even the VHF radio conversations were entertaining! We stopped at Loch Lochy and Fort Augustus/Loch Ness then had an unanticipated day fixing a new starter motor at Dochgarroch, near Inverness. Here the lovely lock-keeper Margaret kept our spirits up as the clock was ticking and our arrival at the festival in Portsoy hung in the balance.

The following day saw us pass through the sea lock and into the tides of Beauly Firth, creeping into the fishing port of Buckie late that night with just one space big enough for us to moor. We tucked up beside a fellow historic craft, Isobella Fortuna a Fifie from Wick also festival bound. The sun shone on us all the next morning for the short hop along the coast. We arrived at Portsoy at high tide and were escorted by the Harbour Master into the “New Harbour” (around 100 years old), closely followed by one of our neighbours for the weekend – Reaper from the Scottish Fisheries Museum in Anstruther.

The Portsoy Festival has been established for over 30 years. Its picturesque village setting is worth a visit anytime, but the festival added a vast wealth of stalls, events, music and of course wonderful old boats. Summer arrived at last as we welcomed hundreds of curious visitors on board for “a nosy” and we were flat out all weekend. Our neighbouring boats had brought a small army of volunteers who soon became friends and included us in their evening socials.

All too soon the weekend was over and we were soon bidding these new pals farewell. A dawn high tide found us starting the new week headed back along the coast to Inverness and the return journey southwards along the now familiar Caledonian Canal. We revisited Oban before entering the sealock of the Crinan Canal just as the lock-keeper had gone home for the day. It wasn’t ideal to spend the night in the lock, but it meant we were top of the queue next day!

The Crinan Canal is much narrower and shorter than the Caledonian, but we had a pleasant run through it and onward to the fishing port of Tarbert. Summer had left us again, so we sat out the storm and rain, making friends with the local fishing fleet and preparing for our onward trip. This brought us through the famous Kyles of Bute, past more stunning scenery and into a very welcoming Rothesay Harbour.

The following days saw us visit Troon and Girvan before a triumphant return across a very calm Irish Sea in shirt sleeves and sun hats, incredible summer sun and warmth – until we reached a chilly Belfast Lough and Bangor marina. Here our adventure was to end after 6 weeks away – until it was decided to “take the scenic route home”…

The Long Way Home

So, to get this flat-bottomed barge, built 126 years ago for use on the Dutch inland waters, round the Irish coast to Limerick and the River Shannon was to be more of an undertaking than I think any of us really thought about. Armed with admiralty charts, plotters and a plethora of phone apps predicting wind and tide we set sail down the East Coast.

The Irish coast was to be a lot more challenging than the tourist trail round Scotland. Longer stretches between harbours, finding big enough mooring places for our 16 metre lady and the ever-unpredictable weather were all factors that now came into play as we headed home via “the scenic route”.

The Eastern leg saw us visit Ardglass, Howth and then Wicklow, just in time to gatecrash an RNLI fundraising weekend. Leaving Wicklow, we headed for Rosslare but found “no room at the inn” there, forcing us to race for the shelter of Dunmore East as the weather worsened and darkness set in.

A welcome day’s rest after that marathon set us up for a beautiful sail on along the south coast. We sailed into an almost royal welcome at Dungarvan. The harbour master met us outside the approach channel with our pilot, an old friend of the skipper, and we found a “reception committee” of the skipper’s family waiting to greet us on the harbour wall. That alone made the whole effort worthwhile!

Dungarvan proved a very beautiful place to pause for a few days rest, encouraged by yet more stormy weather and unsuitable sailing conditions which were to dog us for the rest of the trip.

From Dungarvan we sailed to Kinsale, Baltimore, Schull and Castletown Bearhaven, blessed with wonderful sailing conditions on each day of transit but every time having to then shelter for more days than planned as stormy conditions passed through.

As we rounded “the corner” into the Atlantic swell, the stunning coastal landscape of Mizzen, Fastnet, Dursey Sound (sailing under a cable car!), Skelligs, Blaskets et al took our breath away and will be etched in my memory for many’s a year. Historic Knightstown on Valentia Island became home for a week of exploration, good food and making even more connections with wonderful people. Fenit and Foynes equally shared such warm hospitality, before our final push up the Shannon Estuary and through Limerick to regain the safe waters of the Inland Waterways.

Travelling through Limerick proved the most stressful day of the whole journey, alleviated only by the welcome assistance of a local boatman who guided us through the channels and bridges to reach the vast, dual-chambered Ardnacrusha Lock. It was with huge relief that we eventually reached the beautiful Ballina that night and paused for a well earned rest and recovery day.

A perfect sailing Sunday saw us make a triumphal passage through Lough Derg, all sails full, waving and tooting at fellow barges and whipping up a bit of activity on the local social media pages. Having re-entered the inland waters we had imagined a straightforward run home from here. However, the long fingers of those pesky winds reach the Shannon loughs too, so as we entered Athlone we were advised by friends made on our previous year’s visit to wait a day before navigating Lough Ree. The value of local knowledge can never be underestimated!

From Athlone we were on familiar territory and the next days saw us make the final push for home on up the Shannon and through the Shannon-Erne Canal . As we entered Upper Lough Erne the wind howled and horizontal rain pelted our faces. Regaining our home berth in these elements (and after nearly four months absence and silt/weed accumulation) provided another unexpected challenge but we were home at last. Our epic adventure was over but the memories of fresh seafood enjoyed, fantastic friendships made and scenery beyond description seen will linger for many a year!

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