HARLINGEN, THE NETHERLANDS – I'd barely shut the hatch of the Lilla Marras when the black clouds rolled in fast and fierce. Within minutes, rain was pounding on the deck and running down the brass-rimmed portholes, and while it wasn't quite the perfect storm, it was pretty darn good.
Good enough that every yachtsman docked in this idyllic fishing port on Holland's north shore – including this faux sailor – had settled in early for a quiet evening "at home."
Which left me with a couple of rather comical entertainment options on the boat's tiny flat-screen TV – a DVD of Titanic or The Perfect Storm.
"That's the owner," skipper Willem Koornstra would say with a roll of his eyes the next morning, referring to Dutch entrepreneur Gosse Beerda. "He has an interesting sense of humour."
So interesting, in fact, that Beerda saw tourism magnets where everyone else saw relics of Holland's past – such as the mammoth Star Wars-like shipping crane perched on the town's Wadden Sea shoreline, which he painstakingly converted into one of the most novel, and surprisingly romantic, sleepover sites in the world.
Just outside the crane's massive window is its sister property, the 1932 lighthouse that once guided fishermen through the North Sea's giant swells. It is now a chic getaway for two.
In Harlingen's north harbour bobs my sleeping quarters of choice (given that the other two are booked up a year in advance) – the 53-year-old rescue boat Lilla Marras.
"This the first and only rescue boat in the world turned into a hotel," says Koornstra, a carpenter who cleverly rebuilt the 15-metre Watson Class vessel which, during almost a quarter of a century lying in wait for tragedy along the coast of Great Britain, was launched 105 times and saved 45 souls, pounding through often-treacherous seas at a maximum 8 knots per hour.
Calling the Lilla Marras a "hotel" is quite a stretch. While the fore quarters are tailored to accommodate two people, you want to be sure you know each other intimately.
Its novel red cedar bathtub and elevated toilet are right next to the lily pad-shaped double bed – there's no wall between the two – so a late-night trip to the bathroom is revealing.
And it takes a climb up the ladder and along the deck to get to the aft quarters, where there's a tiny kitchenette and the button for the onboard heater.
But the location? Utter perfection – unless you happen to be in Holland during the Queen's Birthday celebrations (April 29), when you'll be roused out of bed early by a brass band playing on the roof of the adjacent 1732 city hall.
The Lilla Marras is moored right in the heart of Harlingen's busy harbour, next to multi-million-dollar yachts, within a quick stroll of the town's best restaurant (Oe Gastronoom) and the classic former homes of Harlingen's ship owners and captains, many of which are now upscale shops and eateries.
Nearby are the charming canals that still run through this town of just 16,000.
A stroll along Harlingen's so-called Zoutsloot or "salt ditch" (named for the salt works which were here from the 17th to 19th centuries) reveals the town's true gems, cottage-like homes where fishermen and craftsmen used to hang their hats.
Buildings that were once close to ruin – including old shipping warehouses with their distinctively Dutch stepped gables and saddle roofs – have almost all been restored by local historical societies.
And to completely complement the town's historic feel are more than 70 century-old vessels moored in the south harbour. Most, such as the 112-year-old Labor Sanitas, used to haul cargo or tonnes of fish from the nearby North Sea.
Now they carry tourists on day-long or week-long sailing excursions to islands scattered off the shoreline of Holland's north coast.
"It's like family in this harbour. Everybody knows everybody," says Sander Overvaren, who mans the Labor Sanitas seven months a year with his sheep dog – "I call her my ship dog" – Rana, "goddess of the sea." "I make no money, but it's a great life. The cool thing about the traditional ships is they're all so different to sail."
These wooden giants are moored in the shadow of the harbourfront St. Michael's church, just over the bridge from Harlingen's main street, Voorstraat, where shops and restaurants line an old canal.
At one spot, Café Wachter, you can have a drink or dinner on a wooden platform floating in the narrow channel.
Koornstra was well into the one-year renovation of the Lilli Marras when someone "joked" that Beerda, a former advertising and marketing executive, should buy up an old shipping crane that had been abandoned since the town's shipyards were moved north of the town.
The group began the lengthy and difficult task of replacing the steep stairs to the 18-metre-high crane platform with an elevator (in the end, they had to add two – one a metal tube that makes you want to shout, "Beam Me Up, Scotty!" and is controlled with foot pedals). A shower and toilet with opaque doors – and your choice of five mood-setting lights – were added in the crane's pod, along with a windswept deck where you can take in the sea and the city, thanks to a handle in the crane that lets you turn the pod 360 degrees.
Needless to say, it's a big hit with guys – many of whom have surprised their girlfriends with the getaway of their own dreams and then popped the big question.
Turn the handle just so and you have a perfect view of the lighthouse, which is elegant and one-of-a-kind, but not for the faint of heart given the 65 circular stairs you have to climb first, dragging your luggage.
Beerda and his team won approval to cut off the top and raise it a few feet so they could incorporate windows that also offer 360-degree views and a narrow outdoor platform if you're craving fresh (and sometimes gale-force) air.
"You have to be a bit crazy and have a lot of patience to do this," says Koornstra of the three naval attractions.
Or maybe just determined to rescue a few weary souls from the rigours of everyday life.
