What this is
I was voyage crew on the Oosterschelde's summer voyage from A Coruña to La Rochelle, 26 August to 5 September 2026 (their trip code is OS260826). Ten days, one Biscay crossing, two Breton stops, and dolphins for most of two days. This site exists because I want more people to go. A ship like this keeps sailing only while the berths keep filling, and I'd like her to still be out there for the next generation. It has nothing to do with the shipping company. The photos are mine and the booking links go to their site.
The voyage
The route was A Coruña, along the north coast of Spain, straight across the Bay of Biscay to Brittany, then Île de Groix, Concarneau and La Rochelle. Dates for the middle days are from my photos and my memory, the ship sets them by the weather.
| Wed 26 Aug | Embark in A Coruña. Evening meal aboard, the captain lays out the plan. |
|---|---|
| Thu 27 Aug | Safety briefing, cast off past the Tower of Hercules, east along the Spanish coast, a night at anchor. |
| 28 to 30 Aug | Across the Bay of Biscay. Two nights at sea on watches, no land in any direction. |
| 31 Aug to 3 Sep | Brittany. Anchored off Île de Groix, then Concarneau. |
| Fri 4 Sep | Into La Rochelle between the two harbour towers. Small party on deck. |
| Sat 5 Sep | Disembark after breakfast. |
The same leg is listed from €1,900 per berth in 2026 on the shipping company's site, meals included.
A Coruña
The day before departure was for the town, in the rain. The Tower of Hercules is a Roman lighthouse still working after nineteen centuries, which sets the tone for a trip on a 1918 ship. The old town has Romanesque churches, a stretch of city wall, and Asterix and Obelix in the town hall arcade for reasons nobody explained to me.
The crossing
We left the Spanish coast with the wind behind us and the swell on the quarter, the comfortable kind until you try to sleep. The ship runs three watches, four hours on and eight off, and by the second day the rota is the only clock that matters. Your watch hauls what needs hauling, takes the helm in turns, keeps a lookout, and drinks the coffee.
At 22:36 UTC on 29 August I took a photo of the nav station because the radar was showing a ring of rain around us and nothing else for miles, somewhere near 46°N 3°W if I read the screen right. Below the screens, a 1918 steel hull. On top of it, a Furuno radar and a chart plotter. I liked that contrast more than I expected to.
The dolphins were with us for the better part of two days. Pods of common dolphins came and went on the bow wave, and one pod stayed for ten hours straight, talking to each other the whole time, whistles and clicks you could hear from the foredeck. Everyone not on watch hung over the netting. Photos don't do it justice. Nothing does, so I'll stop trying.
The night watches were the part I'd go back for. Moon behind thin cloud, the sails lit from below by the deck lights, the ship doing seven or eight knots through black water with nobody talking. One evening, with a coast in sight, we got a full double rainbow over the deck for about ten minutes. I'm aware how that sounds. I have the photos.
Île de Groix
Île de Groix sits a few miles off Lorient. We anchored off and went ashore by tender. The island is small enough to walk, and it has the things Brittany is good at, coast paths, granite, oysters, cider.
Concarneau
Concarneau is a working fishing port with a walled old town, the Ville Close, on an island in the harbour. We stopped there. A few days on the Breton coast between the crossing and La Rochelle turned out to be the right shape for the trip, the sea days give you the story and the ports give you the time to tell it.
La Rochelle
You arrive between the two medieval towers that guard the old harbour, Tour Saint-Nicolas and Tour de la Chaîne, which is how ships have arrived here for six hundred years. The Tour de la Lanterne, the old lighthouse with the spire, is a short walk along the wall.
The market is the other reason to stay a day. Oysters by the dozen, opened on the spot, with a paper cup of white wine. That is how the voyage ended for us.
The ship
The Oosterschelde was built in 1918 as a cargo schooner, spent decades as a motor coaster, and was rebuilt to her original rig in the early nineties. She's the last of the big Dutch merchant schooners still sailing. Fifty metres, three masts, square topsails on the foremast. She's done a circumnavigation with young scientists aboard and she rounds capes for a living. None of that prepares you for going below.
The deckhouse has a bar with a brass rail, a wood stove with NAVIGARE NECESSE EST painted above it (sailing is necessary, the second half of the Latin line is 'living is not', which the ship tactfully leaves off), an upright piano, and a library of sailing books behind glass. The chalkboard by the stairs said 'Pain au Chocolat' one morning and it was not lying. The cook fed the whole ship three times a day from a galley smaller than my kitchen, in a seaway, and the food was better than it had any right to be.
Cabins are two- or four-berth and small, and the showers are quick. You will not care.
| Built | 1918, Netherlands |
|---|---|
| Rig | Three-masted topsail schooner |
| Length | 50 m |
| Sail area | 891 m² |
| Home port | Rotterdam |
| Voyage crew | 24 berths, no experience needed |
Who this is for
The crew on our leg ranged from twenties to seventies, and the person I'd most want beside me on a foredeck at night was one of the older ones. You don't need to have sailed. You need to be able to climb a companionway ladder on a moving ship, pull on a rope with other people, and put up with being cold and damp for an hour at a time. Going aloft is optional and you're clipped on. Seasickness is real for about a day and then your body gives up complaining.
If you're somewhere between thirty and sixty-something, reasonably fit, and bored of holidays where the most physical thing you do is carry a suitcase, this is the correction.
If you're worried about the social side, it's a small ship and the watches sort it out. If you're worried about fitness, the professional crew do the hard bits and tell you plainly what's safe. If you're worried about the weather, the ship has been doing this since 1918. That's my read from ten days aboard, not a guarantee.
Go
This leg was ten days and it is the shape I'd recommend for a first voyage, a real crossing with ports either side. The ship's programme has shorter coastal legs around the Netherlands, Brittany and the French Atlantic coast, and long expedition voyages further afield. I've done one and I'd recommend any of them, short ones first if you're unsure.
The one I heard recommended most, by everyone aboard who had done it, was Cape Verde. Winter in the trade winds, a day's sailing then a full day ashore on one of at least six islands, with local guides. It's the voyage the regulars go back for.
See the sailing trips on dutchtallship.comEverything else from the camera roll
Tap any photo for the full size. All taken from the deck, the bowsprit, or the rigging between A Coruña and La Rochelle.
