A seal at the harbour mouth, cake in the cockpit, and a first sail neither of them will stop talking about.

Breskens Marina – Sunday–Monday – By Ilse

Sunday afternoon, Jolien and Jeroen came down to Breskens for a little escape. Magd and Jos had taken Luca under their wing for the occasion, which meant a full weekend, no watch-swapping with a toddler, and nothing on the agenda but each other’s company.

🦭 Sunday · Arrival

By the time they arrived, the rain clouds had packed up and left. We sat in the cockpit for an aperitif and then walked over to De Kluiver for dinner. The white wine there turned out to be South African — and that one detail carried more weight than a glass of wine usually does. In 2023 the four of us went to South Africa together, and one afternoon at Delaire Graff we sat with a view that’s hard to forget and a glass of wine that matched it. The bottle at De Kluiver was the same one. Same taste, same memories, several thousands kilometres and a couple of years removed.

Same wine, same view in our heads — Delaire Graff for a moment, right there at the table in Breskens.

After dinner we went hunting for ice cream. It took a few closed doors before the last creamery in town saved the evening. Jolien had her heart set on the beach, so we took the long way back and caught the last streaks of the sunset over the sand. The beach was close to empty. It’s a wide one — practically made for a small boy with a bucket — and we’re already looking forward to bringing Luca along to build sandcastles and dig channels for the tide to fill.

We were asleep not long after, gently rocked by the marina all night. Morning meant sailing.

🦭 Monday · Under Sail

Ten o’clock was the target departure. Everyone was up by seven, and breakfast was a proper one — fruit, yoghurt, cruesli, salmon, avocado. No champagne this time; we were sailing, not celebrating. The forecast was good, the sun was out with the odd cloud drifting past, and it shaped up to be a fine day on the water.

Since it was Jolien and Jeroen’s first time out with us, we went through the safety briefing and talked through the day’s route before casting off. Then it was time — a calm, unhurried departure. Every time we do this, the confidence grows and the boat handling gets that little bit sharper. We’re becoming a good team out there.

Right at the harbour mouth, a seal popped up to see us off. From there we started beating upwind toward Cadzand. The current was against us the whole way, and in the end Cadzand stayed just out of reach — but the stretch of commercial traffic we had to work around gave Jeroen plenty of practice with the genoa, and he’s got the hang of it now. Jolien took her turn at the helm too, and held her course well. A good afternoon on the water, current or no current.

After lunch we turned for home and ran downwind back to Breskens. Piet and I brought the boat in ourselves — one turn came in a touch sharper than planned, but nothing more than that. Jeroen stepped ashore after the spring line went on and called out the lines from the quay. It went smoothly.

Cake, Photos, and Goodbyes

Back at the berth, Jolien’s cake didn’t stand a chance, and we spent a good while going back over the day. In between, Magd and Jos sent through photos from their afternoon at the zoo with Luca — a nice way to feel part of his day even from a distance.

Then it was time for Jolien and Jeroen to say goodbye, if only for a little while. It was the end of a good weekend for us too — we weren’t in any hurry to head home, but work doesn’t sail itself.

“Mal de débarquement” — the ground still gently rocking under your feet, hours after you’ve stepped off the boat.

Jolien had a proper case of it on the drive home — that swaying, land-still-feels-like-water sensation sailors know well. It’s a real, harmless thing: your inner ear adjusts to the boat’s motion at sea, and it takes a little while to readjust once you’re back on solid ground. Usually it fades within a day. Consider it the last souvenir of a good weekend on the water.