- Blazingly fast pilots and sailors with clogs on their feet
- Hjälmaren: Blank ice to the horizon
- Ice sailing has a long tradition
- Ice sailing: Renaissance of the Ijsschuiten
- Unpleasant for ice sailors: double ice
- Those who love their shoes push
- Accidents while ice sailing usually have a minor outcome
- Not visible on the ice: gusts and wind shifts must be sensed
Fresh snow! Just what we needed. Dull grey skies, dead calm and a blanket of snow. This was not what they had in mind when the Ijsschuiten owners loaded up their trailer teams, covered around 900 kilometres by road and an overnight ferry to indulge their passion here in central Sweden. Ice sailing.
Because this has long been impossible at home in Holland due to the increasingly warm winters, every February a small caravan of ice enthusiasts sets off on the long journey to Hjälmaren, the fourth largest of Sweden's large lakes, with bag and baggage and around 40 boats in tow.
The winters here are still crisp and cold and the conditions are usually ideal. The lake is around 60 kilometres long and 18 kilometres wide, but only a maximum of 20 metres deep, which is why it quickly freezes over completely. The ice is now almost half a metre thick.
Blazingly fast pilots and sailors with clogs on their feet
Speaking of boats. We're actually talking about boats here, not sledges. There are also boats here. Most of them belong to the DN class. Small, streamlined cigar hulls on three runners. Or, much larger, the monotypes for one or two drivers, with a wooden steering wheel, like an Italian sports car. Plus many more or less adventurous individual constructions.
In all of these, the pilots sit or lie on their backs - there is no more apt description - and sweep across the lake at incredible speeds. Wearing helmets and goggles, they look like the daredevils in their flying boxes in that old British film with Gert Fröbe. Even the sound of them whizzing past and casually waving one hand in greeting is reminiscent of a small aeroplane.
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But that's not what we're talking about here. We're talking about real ships. With bowsprit and tiller, wooden mast and gaff sail, carved figureheads on the stem and golden animal figures on the stern. And of their sailors, who wear clogs on their feet with steel cleats screwed under their soles.
The first thing you learn here is that studs or spikes are the most important pieces of equipment. Whether clogs or boots, you can't get anywhere here without spikes. Even under the snow, the ice is as slippery as a Teflon pan. If only there was a bit of wind ...
Hjälmaren: Blank ice to the horizon
And yet the adventure got off to a very promising start. After arriving in a nasty drizzle, the next morning a bright winter sun lights up the colourful hulls with the red, white and blue national colours.
Everyone helps each other to assemble and rig, everyone wants to finish as quickly as possible and get out into the glittering expanse. Blank ice as far as the horizon. Someone is already sailing out there. Steven had arrived a day earlier and had put his "Ijsklomp" on the runners.
It looks like an oversized Dutch clog. The hull is made of GRP and is therefore different from the others. But for Steven, who makes clogs and cheese professionally on his farm in Holland, this is of course also a bit of advertising.
The others are what is called Ijsschuit in Dutch. Best translated as: ice barge or barge. The first illustrations of such Ijsschuiten hang in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam and are more than 400 years old. Back then, around the year 1600, during the so-called Little Ice Age, they first appeared in the paintings of Dutch painters.
Ice sailing has a long tradition
Ice sailing therefore has a long tradition. However, back then it was probably not just for pleasure, but primarily for the necessary transport of people and goods, and one of the oldest boats still in existence is the "Emma". Built around 1800 in Monnickendam, it belonged to the master baker who used it to supply the inhabitants of Marken in winter.
At that time, the IJsselmeer was not yet dredged, but part of the North Sea and Marken was not connected to the mainland, but an island. Fresh bread, the post and, if necessary, a doctor were transported by sailors. In summer on the water, in winter over the ice.
There were many such ice sailers back then, simply because they were needed. You can see entire fleets in old photographs. Even Queen Wilhelmina once sailed across the frozen Gouwzee between Monnickendam and Marken, albeit probably just for fun.
In summer, when the waters were navigable again, the Ijsschuiten were pulled onto the shore. And when dykes and dams made other transport routes possible, many of them rotted away. Until around 30 years ago, when some people realised that a tradition was in danger of disappearing that needed to be saved. So they set up a foundation, the "Stichting IJsschuiten Gouwzee", and were able to save 16 boats from decay with donated money.
Ice sailing: Renaissance of the Ijsschuiten
At the weekends, the donors work on the boats and keep them fit, and in winter they are sailed. Where there is ice. Two of them are now in Sweden. Peter with the "Prins van Oranje" and Henk with the "Emma". For the other members of the foundation, the journey to Sweden was too time-consuming this time.
But there is also the "De Robben" association, whose members have travelled here in large numbers. They have also brought along some historical treasures. For example, the "Amundsen" owned by brothers Guy and Han with a yellow bird's head under the bowsprit. She dates back to around 1899, when she certainly sailed under a different name, as the polar explorer only really became famous later.
Ijsschuiten are now experiencing a real renaissance, which is actually a paradox in view of climate change and increasingly rare frozen waters. In recent years, a whole series of new buildings have been constructed, which can now be admired here. They resemble the old models down to the last detail and can hardly be distinguished from them from a distance.
Wooden masts and gaff rigging, wooden blocks, all handmade, exclusively beaten cordage. Not a single part of Nico's "Antarctica", for example, is made of plastic. Even the sails are made of cotton cloth. He spent two years working on his piece of jewellery. The planks are made of solid Douglas spruce and the finished boat weighs 400 kilos.
High speeds, narrow wind angles
His grandfather already had an ice sailer. Unfortunately, however, it was simply turned into firewood at some point by subsequent owners who were oblivious to history. Nico was only able to save the bowsprit to use for his new build. He placed a gold-painted lion on the rudder head.
Almost all the boats are now rigged. The sails are killing in the light breeze and the sun is still shining. But let's get going. To pick up speed, the boat has to be pushed hard. Then jump in quickly, just like bobsleighing. Then tighten the sheets and hope that the gust holds out.
As with a catamaran, the ice sailors sail more or less high upwind on all courses due to their speed. And just like on a fast multihull, moving the rudder too quickly generates centrifugal forces that can almost cause whiplash. Or a capsize.
As happened to Henk, who was travelling in front of us. A gybe, brave and courageous, but just a little too abrupt, the "Emma" turns a pirouette and lies flat on the ice. Fortunately, neither Henk nor "Emma" broke anything. We can quickly get her upright again and continue on our way.
Unpleasant for ice sailors: double ice
Unfortunately, it's not quite ideal today. Yesterday's rain may have frozen over, but there is often water between this relatively thin layer of ice and the solid ice underneath. This is called double ice. We drive at full speed over such a spot. Ice and water splash up high and soak us and my cameras. Very unpleasant.
But even more unpleasant is the fact that the boat can no longer be steered in places: the hull stands at the front on the runner plank, on the outside of which steel runners are mounted. The third skid is the rudder, on which the weight of the hull and crew rests, so that the rudder has maximum contact with the ice.
If the rudder breaks into the upper layer of ice on double ice, it can no longer move freely and this can be dangerous. That's why most skippers nowadays return to the shore after a short time, somewhat frustrated. They turn the bow into the wind and hope that the frost will pick up overnight and the rainwater will change its state of aggregation.
And they console themselves with something they call the ice procedure. A fixed item on the programme of every sailing day. What is needed: Monnickendam bitters, a herbal schnapps; a few beers, and ancient Gouda cheese.
Those who love their shoes push
Early the next morning, the cold air literally vibrates with the desire to sail. The thermometer had dropped to minus seven degrees during the night, which should be enough to freeze even the puddles hard. All the sails are up, although there is not even the slightest breeze. But the forecast has promised the necessary breeze for 10 o'clock.
Then it's 10 o'clock, 11 o'clock and 12 o'clock, and the pennants are still hanging limply in the tops. But ice sailors are not so easily discouraged. Maybe there will be more wind further out. One after the other, they push off.
Push off, jump in, slide 50 metres, then the barge stands again. Again in a moment. Soon the bay is full of sails, but everyone is standing still. They move briefly, then stand still again. The sails are reflected in the perfect, smooth ice, just like the overcast, pale sun. But what use is the most perfect ice, what use is the sunshine if there is no wind?
The skippers stand together in small groups and chat until the first ones make their way back. If you love your boat, you push. But it gets worse. Because the fresh snow, falling softly in thick flakes, begins to cover everything. But not a breath of wind stirs. The boats stand criss-crossed on the snow-covered ice, wrapped in their tarpaulins.
Accidents while ice sailing usually have a minor outcome
And the sailors? Standing in their huts behind the windows and staring annoyed into the dull grey. It's not until the afternoon that anything happens. Because the ice procedure is a must, even though nothing else has been going on all day. Even a party tent has travelled with them and when Steven hoists his sails, at least the look is right.
The next morning it blows. At last. Of course, it would be even nicer with sunshine, but we're becoming frugal. The wind is moderate but steady. The ice is still nice and smooth and hard, so there's no stopping us. Gloves on, helmet on, and off they go. Even in the Ijschuiten, most skippers wear their helmets. Because of the risk of injury if the boat collapses.
Because that's what happens when you miss a spot where the ice is thinner and not strong enough. Then you suddenly get stuck in a hole, and such abrupt braking at a speed of 40 or 50 kilometres per hour can have painful consequences.
And the water is cold. That's why everyone here carries a pair of ice picks on a cord around their necks, which they can use to get themselves out in an emergency. Fortunately, such accidents happen quite rarely, and when they do, they usually have a minor outcome.
Not visible on the ice: gusts and wind shifts must be sensed
The barely more than two wind forces are enough to get even the heavy boats moving. We don't have to freeze, because the constant pushing keeps us warm. But then the wind takes hold of the sails! Unlike on the water, you can't see the gusts and wind shifts coming here. You have to anticipate them.
This makes sailing on the ice even more exciting. The journey begins and we pick up speed. It gets loud, the noises are completely unfamiliar. It jerks and rumbles, the sharp steel runners cut deep furrows into the glass-hard surface.
The sledges sail back and forth, with the hellishly fast DN sledges in between. Soon the ice is covered in a confusing pattern of lines. Straight ahead to the centre of the lake, then with the nose into the wind and through the turn. Not too fast, but not too slow either, otherwise the sled will stop and have to be pushed again.
Jibing is of course also possible, the small DN sleds show how it's done. Without fiddling with the sheet, they drop, become even faster and are already on the opposite course. It's not that easy with our large cloths under the gaff. What's more, we would lose many metres of precious height each time. So we prefer to sail through the wind with the bow, even if we have to stop from time to time.
But that's the same for everyone and it's part of it. Groups of parked boats form again and again. The skippers stand together and laugh. That's how it has to be. After all, we're here for fun.
