We left Lemmer with sunny weather and mild wind. As we moved further north on the Ijsselmeer, the wind increased to 15 knots, and we competed with an increasing number of sailboats crisscrossing the water. But although the Ijsselmeer got quite choppy, Lodi hardly rocked and let the occasional wave wash calmy across its gunnels.

As we approached Stavoren, several sailboats furled their sails, steering towards the harbour, and there was a bit of a wait in front of the lock. 

Once through the lock, we couldn’t find a berth wide enough for our beam. Luckily, a friendly couple from Koblenz invited us to tie up to their very nice Linssen. 

Like on our previous visit, the town was full of tourists and sailors.

Austin soon re-connected with the Lady of Stavoren. Although, I am not sure about this relationship. The wealthy widow is not a very nice person. Having asked the ship's captain to bring her something precious back, she got upset when he returned with a hull full of wheat “for the hungry people of the town” and ordered him to immediately empty his load into the water. Still, today, she is being blamed for the silting up of the harbour. Her story symbolises the history of Stavoren, which, once a prosperous fishing and trading town, has also known hunger and poverty. The rich Lady of Stavoren apparently died a pauper. 

The next day, we moved on to Heeg, where a few years back, we had remotely, from Australia, sold our previous boat, the “Freshwater”.

The last time we were in this lovely little town, it was during a summer carnival with a ninja-type competition taking place. The small streets and canals were taken over by runners, spectators and obstacles to overcome, including splash and dash inflatables. This time, we could walk the small streets at leisure, admire the early 18th-century houses, the revolving bridge (invented by none other than Leonard da Vinci) and the old Frisian boats. Like Stavoren, Heeg is famous for its eel. You might say “ugh”, but smoked eel is a real delicacy. However, no eel was to be seen. Apparently, the local fishmonger ran out.

As we comforted ourselves with yet another Dutch "Appel-Gebak", the heavens opened, and we got real up-close and personal with the other patrons on the café terrace huddling together under the umbrellas! It was great timing that we just happened to pass the café on our walk. One of our explorational walks took us to a woodland called Heem Park, bringing back smells and memories for both of us. Along the paths grew elderberries, buttercups, fox gloves and many other typical European plants. There was even an apple and pear orchard inviting passers-by to help themselves to ripe fruit. 

One has to say: small, but “wow," visiting the state-of-the-art medical centre for complementary drugs for Austin! Amsterdam is just too far away, haha!

The same “wow” must be said about Sloten, Friesland's smallest “city”. It is also part of the “Elfstedentocht”, the eleven towns of the famous ice skating marathon. We sailed there this morning for a little excursion while waiting for Austin’s meds to arrive. The wind was quite wild, crossing the Sloten Meer at about 41km/h.

Sloten has 700 inhabitants, but was once an important crosspoint on the trading route from Germany to, what was then, the sea harbour of Stavoren and from the North Sea to the south of the Netherlands. As the town became wealthier, defensive walls were built transforming it into a fortress.

During the eighty year war, a man from a neighbouring village, called Pier Lupckes, thought up a clever ploy to invade this fortified city. Spanish soldiers were hidden in a cargo ship filled with beer, donated to the citizens of Sloten. This way, the ship would be permitted to enter and they then could open the gates from the inside. But on the day, the weather was bad, with pounding waves on the Sloten Meer. The invaders got terribly sick, and one got so ill that all were eventually discovered in the hull.

Pier Lupckes and his deckhand were caught and beheaded as traitors. Today, only the ramparts of the former fortifications are left.

Before tourism took hold, the town's primary income came from grain. The old grain mill is still there, not far from a modern one, and in summer, the canon on its ground is being fired every Friday evening.

Tonight, the wind has died down, and we are green mooring near the Heeger Meer. 

Tomorrow, we are revisiting Sneek and waiting for our Australian visitors, Uschi and Stephen, to arrive.