Unlike kids today, with their digital games, I played with toys, wooden blocks for building, that kind of thing. Many of these toys said “Made in Hong Kong” on the box. The name invoked a mysterious, distant place. It wasn’t Amsterdam or London. It sounded very strange but also fascinating.

Now, of course, I know the city emerged from World War II to become a manufacturing powerhouse.

Ship shaped

Home life was really stimulating. My mother, Anke, loved literature and music. My dad, Johan, loved painting. Looking back it was his influence more than any that shaped my outlook. He was the one who really got me interested in museums, and the stories behind artefacts, paintings, collections or whatever.

He also loved the sea. He loved ships. He loved sailors and the stories of the sea. So during the summertime, we would go to coastal areas of France, England or Italy. And he would get out the sketchbook and start drawing ships and harbour scenes. I was always fascinated by his interest in ships and shipping. We spoke a great deal about it.

Well schooled

I believe I went to one of the best secondary schools in the Netherlands, the Murmellius Gymnasium, in Alkmaar, which was named after Johannes Murmellius, who was a friend of (the philosopher) Erasmus and taught there between 1513 and 1517. We had absolutely wonderful teachers. That said, I was a bit of a teenage rebel and I didn’t always get the best exam results.

For a while I toyed with the idea of becoming a Dutch marine, travelling the world and having adventures. But my application was unsuccessful, so after my compulsory military service, I enrolled at Leiden University. I briefly considered majoring in English, a language I had a keen interest in, with all its rich meanings and subtleness. But I elected my other passion, history.

It was in my second year that I sat in on a course related to the Dutch East India Company. I heard about life at sea and I thought to myself, “Hang on, this is social history, it’s economic history, it’s cultural anthropology and it’s about languages.” I wondered how those seafarers communicated aboard ships when many came from Germany, England or France. And how could they possibly communicate when they arrived in China or Indonesia after months at sea.

I was burning with questions and I thought, “This is going to be something that I want to study for the rest of my life.” Forty years later, this has proved to be the case.

Whaling time

Sometimes there are moments that change the trajectory of your life’s journey. One came to me in 1987, when I was an assistant to the professor of maritime history while researching the role of the Dutch in fighting the Spanish Armada for my master’s thesis.

One day he received a phone call from a lady from the United States. She was in the national archives in The Hague and needed someone to help her do some research. My professor asked me to go along. She turned out to be the wife of the director of the Kendall Whaling Museum, in Sharon, Massachusetts, a small town close to Boston. We developed a good relationship and this led to me getting an offer of an internship at the museum.

I went to the US in 1988. The museum turned out to be a fantastic place, located in a former hospital in the middle of a forest. It housed a huge collection of whaling memorabilia that had been amassed by the Kendall family, which had grown rich during the second world war selling bandages.

I ended up becoming the museum librarian and curator, and staying for three years. I love New England, it’s a lovely, liberal part of America. I have been back many times since to visit friends.

The Amsterdam years

In 1991, I returned to the Netherlands, where I began working at the Het Scheepvaartmuseum, the Dutch National Maritime Museum, as curator for material culture. It remained my home for the next 26 years and I eventually became chief curator.

Many wonder why I stayed so long in one place. Well, I would say it’s simply a fabulous place to work, and must rank in the top three maritime museums in the world. It houses half a million artefacts – absolutely splendid, beautiful stuff that tells gripping stories. It takes a long time to familiarise oneself with all the collections.

Confronting the past

I began a parallel career as an academic in 2008 after completing a PhD I’d been working on from 2004 to 2008. My research concerned 19th century Dutch whaling. This remains a controversial topic.

From an academic perspective this period had not been well documented and therefore it was quite a good topic to study because there was lots of research material as well as lots of questions to address. But I’ve always tried to reconcile my academic pursuits with the ethical side of things. Nowadays, whaling is, of course, abhorrent and it is totally unnecessary.

Like many other countries, we Dutch played a role in the decimation of many species so we should also play a very important role in trying to repair what has been done and confronting our past is one way to approach this.

Expanding horizons

British Columbia is one of the most beautiful places on Earth, a fantastic province where you can do great hiking and coastal exploration. The museum is located in a lovely spot, although it’s a bit off the beaten track so we had to work hard to bring people there.

I had been there over three years and, with my wife Josje’s consent, was planning to stay another two when I started talking to the chairman of the board at the Hong Kong Maritime Museum. I naively thought they were looking for me to recommend someone for the role of museum director until the job was offered to me.

At first I declined but several phone calls later I started to warm to the idea. Hong Kong was presented to me as a place where you can really think about how to explore new areas and expand horizons.

The Fragrant Harbour

When I said yes to the job I’d never been to the Hong Kong Maritime Museum before, although my wife had. After three lonely weeks in quarantine, I arrived at Pier 8 and I must say I was happily surprised by the beauty of the displays, the international character of the collection and the spirit of the staff.

Also, what a location for a museum – right on the waterfront! We have a museum cafe, a museum shop – there are various ways to create revenue streams. It made a great first impression. That was a year ago. Despite closing periodically due to the pandemic it’s been a busy first year and I’m proud to say we’re expanding, even taking on staff. And we’re building, too, something we’re calling our third chapter.

The first chapter was moving into Murray House, in Stanley, the second was moving to our present location and the third will be the Swire Marine Discovery Centre, where we will develop exhibitions and educational programmes on marine-science-related topics, next to our continued focus on history and art.

Lucky man

I’m one of those people that you tend to find in the office after hours but recently I’ve started to get out more. I went with two friends to Pyramid Hill hiking, which was fantastic. I’ve realised I should do this more often as Hong Kong has some incredible islands and rural areas.

I think one of the things holding me back is that my wife and family are still in the Netherlands. I met my wife around the time I moved to New England and she’s an amazing woman, a great listener who always seems to know better than me. She’s coming to visit soon and I can’t wait to show her around this incredible city.

In the meantime, I do feel that I’m a lucky man. My apartment overlooks Victoria Harbour. Now that’s not bad for a Dutch boy who grew up many miles from the sea.

The Hong Kong Maritime Museum is scheduled to reopen on April 24, initially only on Sundays due to the construction work of the discovery centre.