Launched at last.

The last splashes of antifoul paint before re-launching.

Finally, we managed to paint the boat.

Hip hip hoo-flippin-ray.

What a marathon.

It took us almost five weeks to scrape, sand and paint this 11.5 metre steel boat, from top to bottom.

If I had known in advance how time consuming and physically demanding it was going to be, would I have done it differently?

Is there any point to this exercise?

You do what you have to do.

If there is a next time, I will be better prepared and I would probably call in some help earlier in the process.

Gargoyles on the church at Middelberg.

You cannot leave it to someone else to do in your absence, because they don’t do adequate preparation.

They paint straight over rust and old paint that should have been taken off.

I have seen it happening in this boat yard and you just have to be there, at least to supervise, if you want the job done properly.

So our boat emerged from the shed to dry her paint like a monarch butterfly stretching it’s wings in the sun.

We started five weeks ago with a rust streaked boat painted a sickly shade of cream, and have finished with a deep navy blue hull and off white cabin sides and top.

The decks will be painted with non skid grey, (when the rain stops) and the doors and other woodwork will get six coats of traditional varnish.

A complete makeover that has cost us approximately 1500 Euro in paint and labour, and five solid weeks of our time.

It has been a good process, because we have certainly got to know every inch of our boat and something we didn’t anticipate, we have become part of this community and made some good friends.

Blue sky for an hour in Middelberg and another amazing  old church.

As Anna put it yesterday, “we have earned our stripes.”

We still have a lot of work left to do on this boat before we leave her to come home to NZ but that can happen in slow time over the next few weeks.

I serviced the Mercedes diesel last night, that was a dirty job because the oil filter is a bowl type and when you remove it the old black oil goes everywhere, and no, there is no space below the filter to slide in a tray to catch the oil.

I haven’t started the engine yet, that will have to wait until we are in the water.

It’s pouring down outside right now.

I am sick of the rain. It has actually rained every single day since we got here.

I now know why Holland is a country of canals and lakes. 

It should not be known as the Flatlands, but rather as The Wetlands.

I have empathy for the poor troops in WW1 who had to live in trenches in the rain and mud of this part of the world, and people say that it rains even more in Flanders!

Outside our boat the stoic Dutch yard workers are slaving away in their wet weather gear moving boats around. I don’t know how they can stand it for so long.

If anyone ever suggests that it rains all the time in Auckland, they should try a spell over here.

I’n not hating it. It is just so frustrating when you need to get something done.

Anyway, enough moaning about the weather, Sarah arrives from London this afternoon and we might hopefully get the boat in the water today.

That will be exciting.

Sarah and Anna at the boatyard waiting for the launching.

The next day.

I’m lying in the big double bed in the main salon of Anasofia with Sarah in the double cabin at the back and we are afloat.

Anasofia, about to hit the water after all our work.

How she came out of the water twelve months ago,
May 2011.

We launched the boat yesterday afternoon.

I can’t quite believe that I can say that, after all the work and frustrations.

Mr Niesing, the previous owner of the boat, a retired ships captain, turned up to watch the relaunch and he was very complementary about the work we had done.

Mr Niesing, previous owner.

He also seemed a little emotional.

Our lovely friend Anita arrived with Sarah from the train station an hour before we launched and I couldn’t give them a hug because I was pretty much covered in last minute antifoul paint.

It didn’t go exactly as it should have, because when I jumped aboard to check under the floors and expected to find the bilges as dry as dust, I found over a foot of water in the boat and rising rapidly.

I was just about to yell to the travel lift operator to quickly lift us out, but first checked the boats sea cocks and found that I had left the intake valve open after ripping out the old toilet and the water was gushing in.

Simple mistake and simple solution. 

I turned it off and we bucketed the water out of the boat. Smiles all round.

Afloat and out with the NZ flag.

We were left in the travel lift bay for the night, but after everyone had gone home and the place was quiet, I started the engine, did all the usual checks and we cast off our lines and motored across the marina into a berth we had been allocated.

It works. Paul drives Anasofia for the first time.
Foredeck crew at the ready.

Our first voyage.

She is a lovely boat to drive, heaps of power from the Mercedes diesel but she does seem very long especially in small spaces, but I will soon get used to that.

There is one problem that Anna noticed on the freshly painted cabin top and that is hundreds of little orange spots, which look suspiciously like rust spots.

These may have been caused by the yard engineer, John, when he was angle grinding on the boat right in front of us in the big shed.

I will talk with the yard manager today and see what his response is, because it is usually a complete no no to use a grinder on steel near any other boats.

It will be a hassle if we have to repaint the cabin, but I'm pretty sure that whatever it is will come off if I throw a bit of product at it.