Birthday and Beyond

After breakfast on October 12, that rainy birthday day, we untied the boat and motored on to Lemmer where we would spend the night.  As we go on, it seems each village is more beautiful than the one before.  I expect, however, that it would seem so regardless of the order in which we saw them.  Here are a few photos of Lemmer.

As was true everywhere, people were unfailingly friendly.

Here is the requisite church with a statue of a fisherman before it.  I expect fishing is dangerous enough to make a religious person out of most anyone.

That night, Elaine took the night off, and we went out for dinner.  We had pizza, if you can believe it, and when dessert came mine had a Roman Candle burning in it and 67 written in syrup on the plate.  It was quite a moment and I didn't have my camera!  When I went back to at least get a photo of the "Pizza" sign in green letters even that was turned off.  All was still.

I took one photo of the town from the bridge and then to bed.

The next day dawned bright and sunny.  What a difference a day makes!  We were on our way to Urk via the Ijsselmeer.  We motored out of the harbor.

Here's our gallant skipper.

We couldn't have asked for a nicer day.  The Ijsselmeer isn't a place you want to be in bad weather.

Here are the gallant crew.

As we motored along, Jeremy and Elaine sang sea chanties.

And after a couple of hours of placid motoring, in which we paralleled the great dike connecting Urk with Lemmer, we arrived in Urk.

Urk used to be an island and the Ijsselmeer used, of course, to be the Zuider Zee.  In 1932 the connection of the Zuider Zee to the North Sea was closed off, and the the Zuider Zee became the Ijsselmeer.  At that point Urk, known for its fishing and its many churches, was still an island.  But in 1939, the dike connecting Urk with Lemmer was completed.  Urk was an island no longer, and the stage was set for the creation of the Northeast Polder.

Here you see the lighthouse from where we moored the boat.

Here the boats can be hauled out for repairs.

The lighthouse was built on Urk's highest point, which isn't all that high really.

Here are some of the churches.  Judging from the names, the Urkers had a penchant for splitting off new denominations that would put my Christian Reformed forbears to shame.

This plaque commemorates that momentous day when Urk was an island no more.  There's still a big fishing industry, but now the boats have to go through the locks to get to the sea.

Here are some scenes Nancy and I encountered as we walked through the town:

a grandmother with her grandson,

a sort of fishing detritus collage,

the lighthouse in the setting sun,

and a monument to fisherman drowned at sea.  There were many, many names.

In the light of the setting sun you see the shadow of that massive dike connecting Urk and Lemmer.  You also see how much lower the houses (and the whole Northeast Polder) are than the Ijsselmeer.

A few more random shots.

A portrait of Nancy, silhouetted by the setting sun.

The harbor at sunset.

As I said, each place seems lovelier than the last.