Sails, safety inspector, a gas detour — and the first proper dinner aboard.

By Piet – Aboard Adriana.

The Safety Check

At ten o’clock sharp, a fire safety specialist came aboard. Our extinguishers were last inspected in 2023 — not ancient, but overdue for a proper review. He worked through everything methodically: the small handheld units, and the automatic suppression system in the engine compartment.

The 2023 report turned out to be a real asset. Well-documented paperwork meant he could move quickly, cross-reference, and focus on what actually mattered. After a thorough review, he promised to come back with a proposal once he’d checked it against the latest requirements.

A good visit. The kind that leaves you feeling prepared rather than anxious.

North Sails — The Long Drive

After the inspector left, I pointed the car north towards Rotterdam. One hour, forty-five minutes to the North Sails Loft — a steady run, but worth every kilometer.

I arrived around half past twelve, unloaded the sails, and we spread them across the floor of the loft. All three — the main, the headsail, and the staysail — laid out and examined in detail.

The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is two more seasons — then we replace everything before the long passages begin.

The logic is simple: we want to get to know Adriana first. Sail her locally, learn her tendencies, understand what she likes. Push south towards the Mediterranean. And only when we’re ready for Atlantic passages — real blue-water sailing — do we invest in a new suit of sails. For now, the old ones just need to last.

The sail loft itself was a treat to see. Enormous, well-organized, with recessed sewing station built into the floor so you can feed a sail flat through the machine without ever lifting it — incredibly efficient for restitching a luff or replacing an entire leech. The team knew their craft. We made a list of the repairs needed, agreed on priorities, and left with a plan.

A Small Detour

On the way back, one more stop. The old gas installation aboard Adriana has been coming out in pieces — and through an intense back-and-forth on WhatsApp, I’d found a specialist who makes custom on-board gas systems, built specifically for boats.

Rather than boxing everything up and posting it, I made the detour, dropped the old components at his door, and left him to puzzle over what we’d been working with. A conversation in hardware, rather than words.

I was back aboard by quarter to four. Most of the day spent behind a wheel — but every kilometer had a purpose:

• Sails delivered, inspected, and a repair plan agreed
• Old gas pipes handed to a specialist who can build something better
• A small stop for provisions on the way back

Ilse’s Office

While I was on the road, Ilse was putting in a full working day aboard. Yesterday’s setup — screen at the nav station — had felt awkward. The distance between the keyboard and the monitor was just slightly wrong, and comfort matters when you’re working eight hours.

This morning we tried again: screen moved to the dining table, positioned near one of the heating vents so the warmth reaches the workspace. It clicked immediately. A proper desk, natural light, the sound of the marina outside. A workday that actually worked.

The First Proper Dinner

The gas installation isn’t finished — so the galley hob is out of action for now. We do, however, have a small portable induction plate. One ring. One pan. That’s the kitchen, for the moment.

It required a little creativity. Cook the pasta, set it aside. Cook the chicken in the same pan. Bring it all together. One pan, two courses, one meal — and it was genuinely delicious.

The small thing that made it feel like home: the kitchen utensils. Alessi. The same ones we use in our kitchen on land, somehow already aboard Adriana. There’s something quietly wonderful about that — recognising your own things in a new place, and realising that you’ve already, somehow, arrived.

⛵

A day of roads and logistics — and yet, by evening, the boat felt more like ours than ever.

Regards, Piet