⛵️ See you at sea: Netherlands - liberal from outside, conservative inside.

Hello!
Here I am again, which means it's time for another portion of marine tales.
Last time I stopped on the moment we reached the coast of Holland, where we were immediately met by the authorities.

---

---

In contrast to the German ones, these guys were instantly interested in our documents as Holland consistently receives a stream of immigrants, and that obviously tightens control.

They looked at our docs, of course, and found that some of us already have a problem with the visas; apparently we shouldn't have been in Europe.

But we pressed forward on the maritime law, namely the right of innocent passage.
Theoretically this law was allowing us to fill up all the necessary essentials and have shelter from the impending bad weather, but the cops had a different opinion.

They fumbled around the ship and found nothing, but didn't trust us anyway. They repeatedly asked us to leave their country, not even allowing us to disembark.

In addition to shelter from the inexorably approaching autumn storm, we still needed the water and damn diesel, whose conspicuous absence put us in danger at least once, and a few extra hands in the form of two comrades who should've come from Amsterdam.

In general, it was necessary to stay in port. We were dragging things out.
We also found that, after the unsuccessful attempt to start the engine during convergence with the containership that nearly crushed us, a filter was clogged with all sorts of rubbish which rose from the bottom of the tank on the roll. Now it also demanded attention.

Cops were insisting and insisting that we get out, we were resisting till the evening, which was not going to be languid.

By that time the wind had significantly increased, with heavy swells appearing on the surface of the sea. One of the boats that went out for night fishing was turned over and brought to the port by tug, right in front of the cops.
After that they backed off and disappeared in the early darkness of the night.

---

---

The next morning the cops were right there again, and, just like the Danish policemen, they arrived around 8 in the morning when we were sleeping after all our previous worries.
They seem to like to make people uncomfortable, otherwise why even go work for the police?

In the morning they were even more insistent than in the evening, and in the end we were forced to begin to gather in the way.
Our friends had time to reach us, and we refueled our water tank. We were still waiting for an opportunity to refuel the diesel, so again we were beating about the bush.

We were able to hastily refuel a few cans of diesel only the next morning, after which we had no choice but to try to quickly jump to Belgium.

---

---

The head wind was still strong, but the sun appeared in the sky, and, still being under the constant supervision of a large Dutch brother, we decided to go.

We walked tacks, literally moving forward meter by the meter - it was tedious but at least there was some movement.

In the evening the wind began to increase, storm clouds gathered overhead, the waves became much more aggressive, and some unaccustomed members of the crew become non-functional from nausea and fear.

By nightfall the visibility became very poor, and since we were close to the entrance of the channel leading to Amsterdam, huge containerships went back and forth. It was very, very uncomfortable after the last meeting.

But we held our own, reduced the sail area, dodged the large ships and brought to life our crestfallen friends.

---

---

Soon the tide began, the waves started to push us to the shore, and no matter how much we tried moving forward became impossible. We were basically fighting windmills the whole way.

We had just somehow adapted to the undulating meters of waves throwing us up and down, when we suddenly heard a muted clap broke through the wind roar.
It turned out that the metal detail (quadrant) that connects the cylinders was cracked .
Almost immediately, another big wave tore our defenseless hydraulics, and bleeding with oil our boat started plaintively groaning, with the rudder blade dangling lifelessly.

In short - we had no control system.

Well, as the night and the storm was at its height, we had no choice but to wait until morning.
It was decided to fix our position, throwing all the anchors, so that at least we're not going to be washed ashore.

The night seemed incredibly long.
Time lost all meaning.
People were suddenly left without action among the storm and somehow drooped.
It was impossible to sleep, to stay awake too, and we were stuck in the viscious clutch of this intermediate state - all together and each alone.
Someone was silent, someone softly spoke about the important, someone even prayed.

And our boat sang and sang a sad song in unison with the implacable sea.

---

---

Toward morning our theater of shadows again was disturbed, this time by the fact that the bow anchor winch, which holds the anchor and chain, was tearing out of the deck.
It was somehow strapped, because to stay even without the anchor would be extremely embarrassing.

Daybreak unveiled the murky haze of bluish crests of the waves, and since we couldn’t go anywhere by ourselves we began to look for a meeting with the tug.
It was unclear whether our radio was working or not, but we continued to send «Sécurité» signal, which means that we weren't distressed, but still looking for help.

We were heard.
On the horizon appeared the bright spot of a rescuer tug coming to our call.

They came closer, threw on our desk a tall Dutchman in an acidic-colored jacket, which seemed unexpectedly bright on the general background of the gray, and prepared to drag us.

Before that, it was necessary to get rid of the anchor; the one which was stuck fast between the rocks and which had been pulling the chain like a crazy dog last night, tearing our deck.

Even the powerful hands of the lifeguard did not help here, and with the help of a bolt cutter the anchor, with 50 meters of chain, was sent to the depths of the sea.

After that we rode tandem into the same one and only port from which we'd just been expelled.

On the way we thought how much we would have to pay for our gorgeous taxi, but on the spot it was found out that this is a volunteer organization called KNRM and they don't want any money from us. If we wanted to donate, though we could do it online or throw a coin in a jug in the shape of a boat which are in many public places of the city.

So there are some characters like this in the maritime fraternity. We are still grateful to them because a helping hand in the sea is truly a luxury.

---

---

We warmly said goodbye to our saviors, and then came their antagonists.

Yes, in less than an hour we beheld our old friends - the immigration cops.
And now these same people who had expelled us as lousy dogs in a stormy North Sea now reported to us that we can stay for some time.
Well, damn bloody thank you!

Their dismal uniform began a dark stripe in our story, one which we’d have to deal with for a long time yet.
Sailing - it's not always fun, guys.

A more complete understanding of the situation came after. At first we felt a dull devastation, then began to understand the level of danger in which we were that night, then anger and confusion, and in the end it was whether the irritation or depression left.

Our confrontation with the Dutch authorities did not stop there, but that I think I will tell you in the next episode,
Stay on the wave, take care of your control system, bye!

---

Big thanks to @anarcho-andrei who helped me with proofreading of my broken english text! If anybody wants your texts neatly corrected - write him a message in steemit.chat , don't hesitate :)

---

Previous parts:

1 ⛵️See you at sea: beginning of the story
2 ⛵️See you at sea: story about big repair and winter hibernation in Tallinn
3 ⛵️See you at sea: mooring in Helsinki, custom-friendship and God's help
4 ⛵️See you at sea: ending of the season, or the beginning of autumn in the Baltic Sea
5 ⛵️See you at sea: Copenhagen or a sheer misunderstanding
6 ⛵️See you at sea: Kiel Canal, or the first awkward locking
7 ⛵️See you at sea: North Sea, which is true to its name

---