I bought Pusan in the winter of 1996, when I found her laid up in Leimuiden, in the lake district just south of Amsterdam. I had been looking for a boat for close to a year, but when I saw Pusan, I immediately knew I'd buy her. Sometimes you have that feeling, and this time it turned out to be true. I liked her lines - old fashioned with a long, narrow hull. And, although I was not looking for a bilge keeler which Pusan clearly was, I decided that I'd take it as an advantage. This boat could sail on the Waddenzee and dry up with the tide!
Left: Pusan as I first saw her - laid up besides a boat yard in mid November 1996. She looks like being afloat in the water - but that's a row of hedges you see at the bottom of the picture, not water!
A week before, I had read a 'buying secondhand' test in the
English magazine Practical Boat Owner, which had got me on the
trail of a Hurley for the first time. Before that time, I had
looked at newly-built 22 footers but felt them to be way too
expensive and, all of them, a bit flimsily built. They all seemed
to be designed to sail on small lakes, not the open water. The
Hurley indeed felt strong - as the PBO article had said, they
on't build them like this anymore! Although built in 1972, the
boat was in very good condition - just a bit dirty and with minor
damage to the wooden lining around the hull. The engine, a Yamaha
8hp, was very old and probably was the original one put into the
boat in '72! 
Nevertheless, the previous owner assured
me it was running fine so I decided to give it a chance. With the
engine in a well, sitting in the water for the duration of an
entire season, I was surprised it didn't seem to have suffered
much.
The real annoying thing was the seemingly endless wait until
spring came, and I could put her afloat. Nothing is a sadder
sight than a boat put up in the grey, dreary winter season and I
hated every day of the wait. With only minor repairs necessary,
the first spring days were spent by my father and uncle fixing
her up for the coming season. We took out the engine (outboards
have their advantages!) and took it to the dealer, who proceeded
to do more harm than good - but we found that out only later.
Right: That's my parents having a look at the new boat in the family. Note the bilge keels after you've finished marvelling at my ancestry - 60% of ballast in the two of them (bilge keels, not parents), which makes the Hurley such a good companion in heavy seas.
Then, finally, the day came when I left the office at 11:00 in the morning to drive up to the yard for the Big Day - Pusan was lifted into the water. I had determined that I would just relax and see her lifted into the water, without worrying about whether the crane driver put the straps on right or whatever. I still have an uneasy feeling whenever Pusan has to be lifted in or out of the water. All went right - in the end - and there she went.....
Top: Never a pleasant moment, when your boat goes up into the air. If only those straps will hold...
And then it happened! My own boat, afloat and ready for a spin! Ooohh, yes. I stepped on board, did not hear bubbling noises or see water creeping up in the cabin, so I pulled the starter cable and immediately, the engine started up. Very cool.... We took her out onto the Ringvaart canal, pottered about for a bit and put her into her berth for the day. Back to the office, but the next weekend my father and I sailed her through Amsterdam to her new place on the IJsselmeer - good open water which is really what this boat calls for.
The trip to and especially through Amsterdam is always a nice
one. We motored up the Ringvaart canal, which encircles one of
the largest polders in the country and which always gives a
strange effect - the water level in the canal is actually a
couple of metres above the land which gives you wide views over
this rural area. When you near Amsterdam, the hurdles start. Up
to the city, all bridges are raised quite promptly, but that ends
with the highway south of Amsterdam. There's only one chance to
cross through Amsterdam and that's at twelve at night. 
You
typically moor off the locks that mark the end of the Ringvaart
canal and bring you into the city's water system, waiting with
ten or twenty other ships making the passage. The trip through
the city is fantastic, as you go right through the centre with
small bridges every couple of hundred metres. They are all opened
by the same 'bridge master' who goes along with the yachts on his
bicycle! Amsterdam is very pretty from the water at night, with
the old canals lit only by lanterns.
Alas, here we learnt that a even a good engine can be screwed up by a careless technician. It appeared that the official Yamaha dealer (one of only a few in the country) charged us full price but didn't even check the oil... so the engine sipped its last drop of oil and started to give in halfway through Amsterdam. This was especially unpleasant, as the whole group of ships has to stay together so each bridge only has to be raised once. We had no idea what was wrong with the enige, it just lost power and stopped more and more often. In the end, we accepted a tow and got through the city with the rest of them. We went our own way after the lock leading out of town, but that left us in the large Amsterdam harbour hoping that the engine would last another 30 minutes. Even deep at night, there's a lot of commercial traffic here and crossing the 'IJ' harbour with a dodgy engine is not a joy. Anyway, we arrived safely, restarting the engine every five minutes or so. We slept at the Sixhaven, and took the next day to leave the Amsterdam harbour through the ever-busy Oranjesluizen locks - sailing out to the IJsselmeer lake.
Yes!
Open water at last. The first bit of IJsselmeer after Amsterdam
is uninviting, with power masts and high dykes creating the
atmosphere of industrial wasteland to the South. The only relief
is the tiny village of Durgerdam to the north, which has a pretty
little harbour which is too crowded to my taste, but the first
sign of what's to come further up north.
We had great weather, and although the temperature in late March is not ideal, the wind was perfect for Pusan. We clocked up 5.5 knots, heading for the island of Marken. Its lighthouse, dubbed the Horse of Marken, is always a welcome sight as it marks the entry into the best part of the southern IJsselmeer, with its picturesque villages of Enkhuizen, Hoorn, Volendam, Edam and Monnickendam as well as the village on the island of Marken.
We sailed further up north, then aimed for the Gouwzee, the secluded part of the IJsselmeer shielded by two large dykes that sprout from Marken Island. Late in the afternoon, we sailed into Monnickendam harbour and found Pusan's new berth in Monnickendam Marina, the marina right in the center of the map below. For those of you visiting the area, Monnickendam is strongly recommended. It is not swamped by tourists, like Volendam or Marken, but has kept its quiet, 17th century inner city mostly to its inhabitants. And compared to the situation in the nearest harbours, where yachts are crammed into the harbour like sardines in a can, the abundance of marinas right outside the town guarantee a stress-free berth as well.
Anyway, that's the story of my first encounters with Pusan. Since early 1997, I've spent my free time exploring the Southern IJsselmeer from out of Monnickendam. Life can be good.
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