It’s No Smooth Sail to Find a Windmill That Works : But Searching for the Few That Remain, a Traveler Finds the Heart of the Netherlands

As we drove along the top of the dike in the southern part of the Netherlands, the North Sea stretched into the afternoon sun on our right; to the left, the flat Dutch countryside melted into faraway clouds.

With an unobstructed view to both horizons, we could watch ships as we cruised down the two-lane highway along the sandy shores of southern Zeeland province. And I could stalk my passion: the elusive working windmill.

Red-tiled roofs of a village came into view, and rising above them, the sails of a century-old windmill whirled furiously in the wind. Behind it, steel blades of a modern electricity-producing wind turbine revolved as if in competition.

We pulled into the 15th-Century village of Westkapelle. Now that we were off our lofty highway, of course the windmill was nowhere in view. But part of the fun of the hunt was chatting with villagers and asking directions (most Dutch speak some English) as we searched through narrow cobblestone streets for the sight of swirling sails.

Windmills are almost elegant monuments to Dutch perseverance, ingenuity and practicality. Once, 9,000 existed; now there are fewer than 1,000 and only several hundred are still working. They come in different styles for different purposes: grinding (corn, wheat, spices and seeds into oils) or pumping water. Some are 400 years old; others were built in this century. On this clear September day, we could easily spot them across the Dutch landscape, in meadows, along canals and rivers, presiding over villages. Autumn and winter are my favorite times to visit the Netherlands. The tulip fields are gone, but so are most tourists. Inns and hotels, which are not cheap here, have off-season rates and the weather may be wet but mild.

Hunting windmills is a way for one to get a glimpse of European life beyond the museums and cafes of the cities. The Netherlands, small and densely populated, is a perfect country for village-hopping. You rarely travel more than 15 minutes in any direction before the next little town, with its canals and tiny houses, appears. On our windmill safari, we stumbled across beautiful villages, old inns, small shops and farms. We met millers, innkeepers, farmers and villagers eager to offer conversation and a cup of coffee.

Johan Roelse was working in his yard next to Westkapelle’s brown brick tower mill, called “De Noorman.” Built in 1852 to grind corn, it survived Nazi occupation, Allied bombing and the 1953 flooding disaster, but not obsolescence. Its sails were turning only as a maintenance exercise.

“It is in working condition, but there is no work for it,” said Roelse. His father and his grandfather were both millers and operated De Noorman until 1962, when it went out of business. In 1983, the mill was bought by the municipality, which spent about $150,000 restoring it. Roelse still lives in his family’s house next door.

De Noorman is a “stage mill,” so-called because of the wooden platform built around its tower. From there, millers adjust the sails. As we clambered up wooden stairs, through the various rounded floors, it was obvious this mill hadn’t ground anything for a long time. It was sparkling clean. Chaff was still clinging everywhere on my clothing from the working grain mill we had crawled through earlier that day in the village of Ouddorp.

Outside again, we stood in De Noorman’s shadow and talked about some Nederlanders’ embarrassment about their country’s stereotypes: windmills and wooden shoes. Roelse laughed and showed me the wooden shoes, or clogs, he wears while doing chores. “I grew up wearing clogs,” he said. He also told us we could find a working mill in nearby Biggekerk. We waved goodby and followed the signs away from the ocean, into the farmland.

In Biggekerk, we found a beautiful old white brick “groundsailer,” a type of mill with sails so long they can be adjusted from the ground. Its owners, sitting in a flower garden nearby, told us it was built in 1711 and grinds flour for local sale.

About 20 years ago, the Netherlands realized the danger of losing the technology of windmills, called molens in Dutch. As new sources of fuel replaced wind power, a generation of millers retired without passing on their knowledge. Many municipalities restored their windmills, but only as museums or tourist sites.

The Netherlands was losing a clean, free energy resource. Many windmills aren’t mills at all. They are poldermolens , or wind-powered water-pumping stations. They drained water from land the Dutch reclaimed for agriculture from the sea and lakes. They controlled water levels in the lakes and canals. If kept in working condition, these wind pumps could be invaluable in times of emergency.

National and local associations formed to encourage the restoration and operation of windmills. They bought the abandoned molens and rented them for token sums to volunteers who would operate them.

“It was realized we were losing part of our history, as well,” said Piet Jan Landegent, who owns De Graanhalm, a flour mill in the village of Haamstede.

Landegent grew up next door to the white stage mill he bought when the miller retired. “He grew old, his hired hand grew old, his horse grew old,” Landegent said. “When his source went, so did his business.”

To make the mill profitable, Landegent opened a pannenkoekhuis , an adjoining pancake restaurant, which subsidizes the mill. Recently, a businessman in Idaho contacted him about building a working windmill and restaurant there as a tourist attraction. But the man couldn’t come up with money.

Landegent told us he planned to grind more flour and invited us to watch. But several hours of daylight remained, and we had learned of small wooden “wip mills”--among the oldest windmills--in meadows farther north. “Next time,” we said, and drove off for the next adventure.

GUIDEBOOK: Where to Chase Windmills in the Netherlands

How to stalk windmills: The best way is to grab a map, pick a province and drive off. The coastal Zeeland and the south-central provinces have the most windmills. If you don’t have time to stalk your own, there are several areas where they are clustered for easy viewing:

Kinderdijk, along the river Lek near Rotterdam, is kind of an 18th-Century industrial park with 19 poldermolens , or wind-powered water-pumping stations. They are shroud-type mills with one wip mill, all built in the mid-1700s. At least one mill is usually open for visiting; boat rides, weather permitting, and a snack bar are also available.

The Zaanse Schans, about 20 minutes south of Amsterdam, is a beautiful old windmill village with six industrial molens , four of which still operate and usually can be visited. There also are small irrigation mills in the fields. Located on a bay, the little country village has a museum, restaurants, gift shops, wooden-shoe makers and cheese makers.

Once more than 25 windmills operated around Schiedam, a western suburb of Rotterdam. Erected in the late 1700s on towers more than 100 feet high to catch the wind, they ground grain, mostly for Schiedam’s flourishing liquor distilleries. Only three remain, and two can be visited: De Vrijheid, a working flour mill, and De Noord, which still is owned by the Bols distillers and has been a restaurant since 1973.

Stompwijk is a tiny community south of Leiden. At the end of its long single main road and canal are three 1668 shroud-type poldermolens , called “three-step mills” because of the three levels upon which they were built. Replaced by electric stations in 1957, they operate now only in case of emergency and are privately owned. They can’t be visited, unless an owner invites you. But there’s a pleasant cafe with an outdoor terrace, and you can rent a rowboat for a canal trip.

Zevenhuizen, just west of Gouda, has a similar group of “four-step mills” built in 1730.

Where to stay: If you know in advance where you’ll visit, the Netherlands Board of Tourism can provide you with listings of hotels, inns and B&Bs.; In addition, nearly every Dutch village has a tourism office, called a “VVV,” where you can get maps and hotel listings. Even the most modest hotel will cost about $65 a night for two, breakfast included.

For more information: Contact the Netherlands Board of Tourism, 90 New Montgomery St., Suite 305, San Francisco 94105, (213) 678-8802 or (415) 543-6772.