The Saône – Lyon to Mâcon

Lovely days!

Lyon is extremely nice and we had a good time here.  After our officially permitted 4 days in the marina (though we could have stayed longer) we prepared to leave, doing a bit of shopping at the Lidl nearby.  We left after lunch, saying hello to Harry and Denny (Malua) who arrived as we were about to go, and started up the Saône River, weaving slowly through the city of Lyon, which is very big.  We are not good tourists and had not visited the old part of the city, but we could see quite a bit of it from the boat.

After 17 kilometres, at a place called Couzon-au-Mont-d’Or we met our first lock.  Our guide informed us that most of the locks in the Saône were automatic and then proceeded to give instructions on how to operate an automatic lock.  We’d all studied these instructions and thought we’d got the hang of it, sort of. 

Well, of course, it wasn’t automatic and having hung around for a bit wondering when the radar spotter was going to get things going, we noticed water gushing out of the lock and both red and green lights were showing (meaning the lock is currently emptying).  We waited, and finally the gates opened, no boat came out but the light went to green only.  Go – I said to Mike.  So we started to enter and then someone whistled and when we saw him, it was the man in the lock house waving life jackets at us.  Life jackets are obligatory in the locks but since we thought it was an automatic we’d hoped to get away without.  I rushed downstairs and we put them on, now in a bit of a panic.  It was only a 4 metre lock but I’d spotted bollards set on the quay way up at the top and we are down at the bottom.  I tell Mike to bring the side of the boat to this long slimy greenish black ladder, grab both our ropes and start to climb.  Once again a whistle, and the lock keeper wags his finger at me and shouts no climbing the ladder – use the bollards.  We now notice there are bollards set into the walls of the lock.  They don’t float, like in the Rhône, but there are three - one right up high which we can’t reach, one in the middle and one low near the water line.  We picked the middle one and after a bit of faffing around on one bollard we noticed there was another set further along, so we managed to fix one line each from the back and the front to each bollard and got the boat settled.  The gates had already closed, water started to gush in and the boat began to rise slowly.  The turbulence wasn’t too bad and everything was going fine, but the higher we rose the lower the bollards holding our ropes were.  Once well below the water level, Mike’s rope slipped off the bollard.  Horrors!  Thank goodness it was his end because he is strong.  We were quite high by then and could reach the slightly curved lip at the top of the lock.  Mike grabbed this lip with both hands and clung on, keeping the front end of the boat against the wall.  Finally the lock was full, the water settled and the gates started to swing open.  We hauled our ropes in and exited with relief, but confident that we could now handle these locks.  Next time we would use the boat hook to try and reach the top bollards.

We continued motoring pleasantly, but under a very hot sun, through pretty countryside.  Here’s a boat very well prepared for his touring needs – why bother with a dinghy when you can get a car on board?

Late in the afternoon, we reached the recommended stop at Trévoux, at the 31 kilometre marker.  The Halte Fluvial here is managed by a camping site and the charge was €5 per day including water and electricity.  It was a very nice spot and we found friends we’d met in Lyon – Dutch, English and Swedish.  Evening brought blessed relief from the sun and we spent a quiet and pleasant evening. 

The next day we visited the lovely town of Trévoux, bought post cards and some fruit and sat over a cool beer on the terrace of a bar near the water’s edge.   

The day continued so hot that we took cushions and sat under the trees on the bank to get a bit of breeze.  That evening Mike and our Dutch neighbours went swimming, bravely I thought, in the river which is not as clean as one would like to imagine.  Refreshing, anyway.

Later on clouds built up and in the morning there was a brief but tremendous bout of thunder and lightning followed by a shower of rain.  It didn’t last, but the day remained cool and cloudy, so we set off at about 10am intending to travel about 24 kilometres to Belleville.  However, Belleville mooring was crowded, so we continued another seven kms and got to our second lock at Dracé.  Quite confident we knew what we were doing this time around, we entered this lock of only 3.2 metres quite fearlessly, only to find that the bollards, though the same structure as the previous one, were set much further apart.  With the best will in the world we couldn’t use two, so we tied ourselves with two ropes to the one bollard in the same fashion as we had done in the Rhône.  Stressful.  Sailboats have such a curved shape that they swing badly, no matter how tight you hold the ropes and our solar arch at the back is very vulnerable.  Once again, it got bashed, but survived the experience and so did we.  Though not much fun, these locks are infinitely preferable to those in the Rhône.

We carried on, through lovely countryside and in pleasantly cloudy conditions looking for somewhere to stop and decided on a nice looking place called Crêches-sur-Saône which had been recommended by Irish friends in a motor boat.  Bearing in mind that motor boats have very low draught and can moor just about anywhere, we entered very cautiously, watching the depth sounder.  It dropped to two metres and then began to flash between 1 and 2 just as we scraped our bottom.  Mike back off quickly churning up a cloud of mud and we got out of there. 

After that there was only the large town of Mâcon at the 80 kilometre marker.  We’d been recommended spots in the centre of the town (again by motor boats) but we are still very afraid of tying up against town walls, so I phoned the marina which is a kilometre or so beyond Mâcon.  The man quoted me €15+ per night with €2+ for electricity and we decided to go for it but not bother with electricity – our batteries are still in immaculate condition.   However, passing through the town we saw a bunch of yachts tied up on a pontoon so we went over and snuck into the last available space.  There are no facilities but it is free, seems safe, is right in the centre of town and we are surrounded by friends again.

Over cups of tea with Bob and Brenda (motor boat Kandalishka) we were pleased to hear they find the locks equally stressful as their boat, though a motor boat, also swings badly and they spend their entire time fighting off the lock walls.  Bob had a nasty scrape on his hand to prove the point.   Amazingly, Bob and Brenda were in Finike, Turkey, the year after we were there and are well acquainted with a number of our old friends from Finike.  The evening was pleasantly spent over a few glasses of wine with Ren and Willem (motor boat Acquarel) and young (15 year old) Sam from the NZ boat Isis. We are assured by everyone that the locks are all different and we must be prepared for any eventuality. Great.   

We’ve just had lunch time drinks on Kandalashka and now we have found the Mediatheque, which is a full on library.  Internet access, sitting in a quiet comfortable room on the second floor at a desk, is free for as long as I want.  Perfect.

Les Roches-de-Condrieu to Lyon

A Very Good Day

Jean Pierre and Jacqueline drove all the way from south of Montpelier to Les Roches de Condrieu to visit us.  They arrived in driving rain, and JP was not feeling well, so they did not stay long.  However, we had a good chat and it was really good to see them again.  We have promised (threatened) to take them up on their offer to visit them at their farm sometime in the future.  They were shocked to hear our tales of woe and JP who is a lawyer will write to the CNR (Compagnie Nationale du Rhône) to complain about the speed boat that caused our damage, and the underwater wall that we and Malua hit in St Vallier.

The fact is that Forever is too delicate a boat for this type of trip.  She is perfect out at sea, but not designed for these inland waters.  Most of the boats in the canals are squared off motor boats, flat bottomed (it’s our keel that causes us to swing about so much in the turbulence) and with very low draught.  And many of the other sailing boats we have encountered, have no mast to contend with, no solar arch and a strong steel toe rail.  Even if they had been banged on the quay wall they would not have suffered as much damage as poor old Forever has. Some boats we’ve seen have really scruffy steel or concrete hulls which are absolutely perfect.  I deeply regret all the work we put into Forever’s hull, topsides and toe rail – what a waste of time!

Today, Thursday 23 June we had a very good day – no problems with the locks.  The first , Vaugris (only 6.7 metres) was beautiful and no problem at all, the Second Pierre-Bénite ( 11.8 metres) was ok and the normal turbulence, but we managed fine.  Our timing at both locks was perfect and we never had to wait at all.  Unplanned, we made the whole journey in company with a Swedish yacht and a French yacht.  The French one (Gazouille) was manned by a single hander with whom we became quite friendly and chatted along the way – he made all the contacts with the ecluse and kept us informed.  He was very casual in the locks – having tied himself off (not without difficulty) he would disappear below for the entire filling time, presumably to make himself a drink or something to eat.  Being alone, this was the only time he could leave the cockpit and he took advantage.  The rest of us stood on our decks, worrying about swinging.

We are delighted to get to Lyon and so very pleased to leave the Rhône.  Here we come to the Confluence of the two rivers – the Rhône to the right and the Saône to the left.

We’d been told about the new marina in Lyon and went straight there.  Brand new, the marina is built into a dug out canal off the river and there’s a low bridge at the entrance which the Capitain will come and lift if you call him on VHF18.  The man in charge on that day was a charming and helpful young man, with the unlikely name of Cyril, who speaks perfect English.  He spent many years in the UK (mostly it seems in Bucks) running restaurants.  It’s an oddly designed marina with the smallest pontoons you’ve ever seen – even Forever, which is smaller than many of the boats in here, is twice as long as the pontoons.  However, it is quite reasonable at €12 per night, including water and electricity and showers, but no washing machines or wifi (boo hoo).  We have booked four nights. 

Friday 24 June

Though our trip to Lyon was pleasant and uneventful we’d noticed a leak of water in the salt water pump which worried us.  On Friday Mike had a look and decided he needed some Volvo spare parts.  Unable to find a Volvo dealer, we called a mechanic – a young chap called Karl who turned out to be originally English.  He came by, helped take the pump apart, ordered the parts and returned the next day with them.  He helped Mike put the whole thing together again – perfect.  It was an unhappily expensive little operation (as these things always are), but Karl was helpful and his side of the bill was very acceptable.  Later, we walked into the town of Lyon (the marina is well placed to the centre of town and various shops, including Lidl and a good bakery) and did some shopping, bought ourselves some new sunglasses and checked out the MacDonalds which has free wifi.

The other yachts in the marina are mostly very friendly and we have passed three merry evenings over numerous glasses of wine with two Dutch motor boats, one Swedish yacht and one English barge discussing where next to go, travelling the canals (everyone agrees the Rhône is the worst), life in France, and our trip around the world.  We may have one of the smaller and definitely the scruffiest looking boat but we are everyone’s heroes, having sailed around the world. 

Our Dutch neighbours (Valerie and Marcel), on a palatial motor boat, very kindly took our bed linen and washed it in their washing machine and then dried it on their enormous deck.

Saturday was very festive in the marina with lots of market stalls selling ice cream, farm produce, wine tastings, barbequed sausage and chips, etc.  There were children’s playgrounds, kids kayaking and learning to ski in the canal beyond the marina and a lot of live music.   That night there was a big party on the quay and we went along after dinner joining Lindsay and Mike from the English barge.  At about midnight there was a bonfire when an effigy of St Jean was burned (we presume Joan of Arc who was burned at the stake).  It was a wonderful evening, till 3 am next morning, and we met loads of French people, including a gorgeous bunch of youngsters.

Sunday we have hangovers, but worth it for such a good evening.  Valerie and Marcel, who don’t drink, are very smug.  We will leave tomorrow and hope to keep meeting these same people along the way, as we are all travelling up.

Glun to Roches-de-Condrieu

Another Mixed Bag

Sunday 19 June was a good sunny day and we left at the same time as Carolin, both of us headed for St Vallier on the recommendation of no less than three local sailors in Glun.  They insisted that St Vallier was much better for us than our original choice of Andancette and we were both pleased to get helpful input.  It was a short peaceful trip of only 20 kilometres, passing through the town of Tournon and one lock – Gervans (11.8 metres) a breeze.  The hills on either side of the river are planted with what must be millions of hectares of vines – the famous Cotes du Rhône.

But once there we couldn’t find the new pontoon that had been spoken of and finally decided we would have to tie up at the pontoon marked on our charts as being for commercial craft.  The pontoon looked good with enough space for two boats and there was a green marker buoy to show the channel.  Carolin went in first and tied up with no trouble.  The thought that we had managed to pass a day on the river without mishap hovered in my mind but I refused to let it form fully for fear of invoking a jinx. But the fact that it had hovered was obviously enough.  We followed the German boat in and drifting up with a depth of 5 metres we suddenly hit something very hard and metallic-sounding, Forever stopped dead in the water and tipped over slightly before righting herself again.  Horrified, Mike backed off a bit and then eased outwards and forward again, going into the pontoon almost at right angles.  The promised depth of 11 metres was in fact 2 metres!  With help from Bruno and Heidi we tied up our poor beleaguered boat and I had trouble holding off tears.  We did a full check of the inside of the boat for any cracks but everything seems fine.  The water is so murky there is no point in Mike trying to dive to have a look at the hull.  Anyway, I don’t think we hit nearly hard enough to do any real damage – but the antifouling will be well scraped. 

Our neighbours were very kind to us and invited us over for drinks that afternoon.  We had a very jolly time with them over a bottle of Pastis, Heidi and I sharing our thorough dislike for this part of the trip.  They are continuing up the Saône after Lyon, like us, but whereas we will turn west at the Canal du Centre they will continue until they meet the canal du Bourgogne and then they will turn east and head back to Hamburg.

The afternoon and night passed peacefully enough, but we remained on constant alert for another eejit in a fast motor boat.  All of us were fed up now and agreed that we would just make straight for the marina at Roches-de-Condrieu – and bugger the expense.

And so we did.  Monday 20 June was an excellent day for us and totally without mishap.  We left at 9 am and arrived in Condrieu at 1 pm after travelling 34 kilometres through lovely countryside carved up with vinyards and beautiful villages like Andance and St Pierre de Boeuf.

There was only one lock – Sablons (15.3 metres) - and no problem.  Arriving in the sacrosanct lunch hour meant there was no one about and no one answered the telephone or radio.  So we tied ourselves up wherever we wanted and had a relaxed lunch, after which we checked in with the friendly and obliging Capitain.  The cost for our boat was €16 per night and if you take two nights you get one free.  So it is €32 for three nights, including electricity, water, showers and wifi.  We are very pleased.  We have filled our water tanks and though there is a fuel station here we still seem to have plenty of fuel.  There’s also a washing machine at €3 a load and a good supermarket a bike ride away.  The village is very nice and quaint though we haven’t done much exploring yet.

Our old buddy Harry is here with his boat Malua and we went and had a chat with him and his wife Denny.  Harry had sent us an email which of course I’ve had no opportunity to open, and it transpired he’d hit the exact same rock/wreck/wall (whatever it was) at St Vallier and he’d written warning us off the place.  Pity.  He had also come across the fast motor boat.  It apparently left a marina leaving a huge wake, so the manager phoned the lock and the lockkeeper refused to let him through.  He had to wait a whole day!  Ha, we had a good laugh at that.  Regrettably, we think it was that following morning that he came angrily speeding through Valence and we paid the price.

Bruno and Heidi came for a few beers with us last night and this morning they left for Lyon.  They have been good friends and we hope to meet up with them later on in the trip.  We telephoned Jean Pierre and Jacqueline who will be driving up from Montpelier tomorrow and are going to detour this way to visit us.  We are looking forward to seeing them again. 

I put off congratulating myself on a day without mishap until this morning – just in case!  My washing is all dry, but it is raining again this evening with lots of lightning and thunder.  No worries, we are safe and snug in our little berth, far from speed boats.

It is just 41 kilometres and two locks between here and Lyon, the end of the Rhône and the beginning of the Saône..

Viviers to Glun

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Thursday 16 June

Just when you think things can’t get any worse, they do.  We have had a really torrid time since leaving Viviers.

After an early morning walk up to the old cathedral, we left Viviers in lovely sunshine at about 10 am.   Our first lock was Chateauneuf, a deep one at 18.5 metres and we were the only boat.  Although the lockkeeper kept us waiting for an inordinately long time once we were inside, he then proceeded to fill the chamber very quickly.  (I don’t actually know if they can control it but it seems to me that it must be so because some fill quickly and some more slowly.)  The Danish couple with whom we shared our first lock looped their lines round the bollard and then each kept hold of a line in their hands whilst the lock filled, and so we had

copied this style – nearly tragically for us in this lock.  The turbulence was so extreme that the bow of the boat swung out, more and more, and I (on the bow side) was unable to pull it back in again.  The stern, of course, had swung inwards and our solar arch was now grinding against the wall.  Mike constantly shouting at me to ‘Pull it in’ was of absolutely no use whatsoever and caused me more distress and panic than I was already experiencing.  I really thought I was going to have to let go in which case the boat would have been flung out of control in the chamber – a horrible thought.  I screamed at the lockkeeper to stop but that made no difference either.  Well, we survived, but I’m amazed all the bones in my right hand were not crushed.

Very chastened, we carried on.   I was tempted to give the lockkeeper the finger on exiting but decided against in case he called ahead to the next lock and they also gave us a hard time.  We agreed that in future we must snub our ropes off tightly and use our hands to push the bow or stern away from the wall in case of turbulence.  We passed through the next two locks, Logis-Neuf (13.75m) and Beauchastel (13.65m) with no problems at all, but admittedly there was manageable turbulence.  It poured with rain on both occasions and it seems to me that both lockmasters kept us standing about in the chamber for excessively long periods.

We passed the cement works and nuclear station at Cruas, had a close encounter with a shallow bank, and pushed on to Valence.

The rain had eased a bit by the time we reached the outskirts of Valence.  Having motored trouble free all day we suddenly saw smoke oozing up through the space between the roof and cockpit hatch.  I rushed below and checked the batteries which looked fine (not warm and no smoke) but the exhaust pipe was boiling hot.  The pipe leads to a cupboard in the aft cabin so I opened it and exceedingly toxic smoke came billowing out.  We slowed the motor, opened everything up and the smoke dissipated - then everything seemed fine.  We never did find the problem but assumed there had been a blockage in the exhaust which had subsequently sorted itself out.  It’s all very mysterious and worrying and we must investigate that more thoroughly.

Totally wired up and exhausted, we entered the Valence area cautiously.  At Valence we had various mooring options available – the marina, the public quay in the town, the waiting pontoon at the next lock 3 kilometres further on or the Halte Fluvial at La Roche de Glun another nine kilometres upstream.  We wanted to stop at Valence because we had agreed to meet up with our friends Jean Pierre and Jacqueline there and also we wanted to have a look at properties in the area, having been told that it is a
pleasant farming area and not too expensive.  I telephoned the marina but it was very expensive.  I asked the man about the public quay and he confirmed we could moor there and he told me how to get there.  When we arrived there were three other boats tied up including a small yacht so we figured it must be ok.  A polite Frenchman came out of his boat and helped us tie up and we settled for the night.  It wasn’t an ideal spot with a busy and noisy motorway just yards away but we only wanted to spend one night, check the property market the next morning and then intended to move down to Glun.  The wash from the occasional passing boat was tolerable and all traffic stopped at 9 pm anyway (which is when the locks close). 

Friday 17 June

River traffic started again at 5 am but was still no problem.  But then - at about 8 am a very fast motor boat hurtled by leaving a huge wake – it was horrific and Forever banged up and down for some minutes, finally smacking hard against the wall and severely cracking the teak toe rail and even the gelcoat. 

We swung so violently that the side of the boat dipped in the water, something that has only happened once or twice in all our years of sailing.  Upon investigation we then discovered that the wooden mast support at the front of the boat had broken and the mast had crashed down into the stainless steel pulpit and had slipped slightly sideways.  We untied our ropes and left immediately for the next lock.  On the way we passed a fast motor
boat (maybe the same one, we will never know) and we could see his wake banging against the shore in a long trail behind him.  Five fishermen sitting on the banks got drenched and waved their fists angrily.  We were better prepared this time and Mike steered the boat into the waves.  Though there was nothing for the boat to hit, we were still concerned about the stability of our remaining mast support.  I should have taken a photo of the boat and sent it to the authorities.  Bastard.

No sooner had we passed this menace than the battery light and alarm went off on the engine board and the volt metre showed a sudden weird drop to 11volt.  I rushed downstairs and looked at everything, fiddled with the fuse to the Sterling regulator and it all went back to normal – almost.  The alarm light went off but not the alarm.  I’d phoned the lock keeper earlier and he’d given me a 40 minute wait so we were travelling slowly, but now I saw the downstream boat exiting the lock and heading towards us.  What do we do I yelled at Mike and he said Go into the lock anyway. 

Despite the continuous wailing of the alarm our passage through Bourg-lès-Valence lock was delightful.  The lockkeeper was quick and efficient, he filled the chamber at a decent rate, and then let us out quickly.  I gave him a big wave goodbye and he put a farewell “we wish you a pleasant journey” type message over the loudhailer in three languages.  Good man.

We’d heard from a couple of people that there was a good and free mooring at Roche-de-Glun.  You turn off the canal and into the Rhône proper where there is a wide bay designated as a sailing area.  The charming village of Roche-de-Glun is to the left and on the other side of the bay is the smaller sister village of Glun which is even prettier.  The mooring was very nice and very peaceful, free for the first 48 hours and then only €10 per night.  There was neither electricity nor water but we didn’t mind.

The battery alarm had continued to whine away until we reached Glun and switched the engine off, and it still squawked so I switched the batteries off for a minute and it stopped.  Then Mike switched the engine back on again and it was fine.  Obviously just a glitch with the alarm switch.  There are so many odd things happening on the boat – it is quite nerve wracking.  Some little gremlin has moved in.

Once tied up, we went straight into town and approached a gaggle of men outside the local bar, explained our predicament and asked to borrow a jack.  One of them jumped in his car (which didn’t have a jack), went home quickly and came back with a jack from his other car.  I told him we were down at the Halte Fluvial and he said “don’t worry, I have every confidence in you, just return it to the bar when you have finished – tell them it is for Donny” and off he went again.  Very nice man.  We then went on the hunt for a suitable piece of wood to prop the mast on but in this extremely neat and well laid out village there was nothing to be found.  I telephoned the sailing club and was told that a man called Jacqui was down at the Halte working on his boat and I should ask him.  Jacqui and his buddy, Jean Pierre, located a good piece of wood, came aboard and helped us jack up the fallen mast and repair our support system.  They were very kind indeed and did a good job of it.  The people in this small place just couldn’t have been nicer.  Our offers of beers or cups of tea were politely but firmly refused.

We’d no sooner finished our work and returned Donny’s jack than the heavens opened again and it poured most of the night.

That afternoon the German motor boat Carolin arrived and shared the pontoon with us.  We had seen this boat originally in Avignon, and then met Bruno and Heidi at Viviers when Bruno helped us tie up.  They were sympathetic and we swapped notes on possible mooring points ahead.  Bruno and Heidi have done this part of the river before so have some knowledge.  Heidi, like me, hates the Rhône.  Of course, that’s not true.  The Rhône is a lovely river and passes through some beautiful countryside, but I hate being in a boat on it. 

On Saturday we took a long walk over the bridge to visit Glun and detoured through acres and acres of apricots.  After the heavy rain of the previous night there was a lot of fallen fruit to which we helped ourselves - the sweetest and juiciest apricots I’ve ever tasted.   Later we visited an estate agent who advised that she had nothing at all in our budget, so I telephoned Jacqueline and explained that we were going to move on.  We have agreed to try and meet up at Les Roches de Condrieu.

Avignon to Viviers - BRAVO!!!

Tuesday 14 June

Well, here we are in the extremely nice marina at Viviers.

Friendly yachties from other boats came to help us tie up.  It’s a gorgeous spot and we arrived just before sunset and there’s a full moon (almost) so it was all totally fab.  There is no one here manning the marina so it is free and though there is no water, electricity is free.  Our cable won’t reach the point but we don’t care - our batteries are still very good. The shallow waters around the marina are dotted with numerous of these weird plastic bathing belles suspended from metal frames – they are too funny and really rather grotesque close up.  On the wall outside are all the big cruise ships filled with the wealthy, grey haired English, American and German guests who beetle about in small gaggles following different leaders who wave flags with numbers and speak heavily French-accented English.

We picked an unfortunately windy day for our excursion – not the best of ideas and our efforts at the first two locks were OK but not great.  We managed to survive the first lock (Avignon) with difficulty but not too much mishap.

At the second (Caderousse), there was a boat tied up at the waiting pontoon who had decided to stay and spend the night there as they considered the passage through the lock ‘too dangerous’.  This put the willies up me briefly, though not Mike of course, but as we’d survived Avignon and the wind hadn’t worsened since then, I squashed my fears.  Fortunately, we survived the second lock, though our mast left a few deep gouges in the lock wall to mark our passage.  

However, the third of the day, the 23 metre deep record breaking Ecluse de Bollène, was our best yet.  We started out immaculately, Mike had stopped the boat dead on the bollard and we’d hooked on when the skipper on the boat opposite us shouted at us to move forward to make room for another boat coming behind.  Ever obedient, we frantically unhooked ourselves and moved forward but the lock keeper wasn’t bothered to wait for the last boat and just shut the gates anyway.  Happily, our second attempt at the bollard was equally successful leaving us pathetically proud of ourselves and faintly annoyed with our interfering (though well intentioned) neighbour.

As for the VHF radio, there was me worrying about ours not working properly, but there was no need because none of the lock keepers ever answer.  You have to phone (fortunately the numbers are still correct in my 10 year old chart) and are often put on ‘hold’ for ages.  The Danish couple we met in our first lock said they neither telephoned or radioed – simply arrived at the lock and waited for it to open.  I’ve established that our VHF does work, however, because we have spoken with other peniches or yachts along the way, no problem.  Time waiting at the locks depends on circumstances and so far we have not been kept waiting for any great length of time – our maximum passage time so far is about 45 minutes

The countryside from Arles onwards has been more attractive with far less heavy industry cluttering up the banks.  There are many bridges for the motorways and TGV to pass over.  The TGV railway is amazingly noisy and qualifies as a real ‘blot’ on the landscape in my opinion.  We sat in our cockpits this evening as the sun slowly sank over glassy water dotted with swans, six boats in a line, all liveaboards (English, Irish, Zimbabwean, German and French) and in our fifties and sixties, drinking and dining, calling out the odd pleasantry to each other, and it’s all so incredibly peaceful and tranquil – and then a train goes chundering past.  We can’t see them but they seem to hurtle past us on both sides, shattering the quiet.  I suppose they go by all day long but they are less noticeable during the day.

We went into the enchanting old town of Viviers today.

I’ve just had an email from my very dear friend Trish, my most devoted blog follower, who expressed admiration for the fact that I tell it like it is – both the good and the bad.  I must confess that I’ve been tempted to leave out all the embarrassing bad bits and just relate the good.  However, this blog is also my ‘aide-memoire’ so I can remember everything that happened, and if I lie in it I’d be lying to myself.  Last night I overheard Mike talking with a neighbour, admitting that having left the boat for three years he has forgotten so much of what he knew.  It is true that I have also forgotten stuff and between us we seem to have lost our knack.  However, it is definitely coming back and we feel better about ourselves all the time.  Today we chatted with two other couples who also admitted to finding the locks rather stressful and I suspect those who say they don’t have simply blocked out the nasty bits.  My round the world blog was written years after the event and I am aware now that I quite deliberately left out all the bad bits - and there were plenty, believe me.  There was so much good stuff, so many fantastic places and people that it’s easy to only remember those things. 

Things like beautiful towns like Avignon and Viviers, friendly people, gorgeous weather, a great lunch in the cockpit, followed by a snooze........

Avignon

Sur le Pont

This business of kilometres and nautical miles (which are the same as knots) can be confusing.  Yesterday we travelled 81 kilometres which equates to 45 nautical miles (knots).  On this trip we will be speaking in kilometres as that is how the rivers and canals are measured.

This is a wonderfully old town full of interesting history and the surrounding countryside is beautiful.  Our situation in this semi-marina is extremely central and very convenient.  The capitan came by early on our first morning and gave us details of the costs - €18 per night or €72 per week.  As we’d like to stay at least three or four days we’ve decided to go for the full week and thoroughly enjoy Provence. The capitan, a stocky and taciturn gentleman, with bow legs clad in very low slung baggy shorts and who lives in a small yacht on the quay, is to be found strolling up and down at all hours, at least once a day carrying a shovel to collect the dog shit left by careless dog owners.  The French remain unrepentantly disgusting in that area. 

After a leisurely breakfast we set off exploring.

In gorgeous sunny weather, we took a long stroll through the town including climbing to the top of the Palais des Papes (seven popes lived here in the 14^th century).

stopped for a coffee and did a little shopping.  We went to the flea market (interesting, but mostly junk masquerading as antiques) and found Les Halles (the indoor market) where we bought fresh trout for supper.

The next day we took our bikes and crossed in a little ferry by the Pont d’Avignon - which is only half a bridge, the other half having been destroyed in 1226 during some Crusades.  Rebuilt it was continuously damaged by the raging flood waters and eventually abandoned in the 17^th century....

....and explored the Isle de la Barthelasse which is full of fruit farms – hectares and hectares of apples and peaches and pears.   The Rhône branches out at Avignon into two arms which loop round the Isle de la Barthelasse and the banks of the river are thick with liveaboard peniches (long flat barges).

Though we didn’t go sur (on), here is Mike sous (under) le Pont d’Avignon.  Annoyingly, I have that ditty stuck in my head.

Today we walked round this ancient wall which fully circles the inner town.  Spot the modern sculpture in the foreground.

The dock is busy with boats coming and going all the time, a few yachts, but mostly motor boats.  People are friendly but no one stays long enough to get to know.  We made friends with Mike and Barbara on Lady Cate with whom we shared drinks. They had travelled down from Lyons and were able to give us useful information about the Rhone.  They also gave us an old but useful chart for the upper Seine which is the only chart we didn’t have.  We can get up-dated information from other travellers.

We’ve had a really good time here, getting up late, wandering around exploring, eating extraordinarily well, and then sleeping soundly.  As you can see from the photos, the weather has been divine.  Today we paid our dues, filled the water tanks and we will leave tomorrow – we plan to go direct to the ancient town of Viviers which is 75 kilometres and three locks away.   Holding thumbs for our next locking efforts.

Port St Louis to Avignon : First Locks

First Locks

Tuesday evening Jacqueline drove me into town to shop and we passed these Camargue horses at Port Napoleon. 

Wednesday 8 June

This must have been just about the worst day of our lives.  I can’t think of a worse one, though there must have been.  We rose at dawn and motored down the canal once again to the Port St Louis lock.  At 6.10 am I called the lock keeper on channel 19 and he said they would only open at 7 am and we were told to go in behind a large cargo boat which duly arrived at 7am.  He told me to use two lines to tie up.  Well, once the cargo ship was in and tied up (with LOTS of help from the guys on the quay), we were waved in and Mike steered to the wall.  The bollards were set way too far back from the wall so I flung myself upwards and clambered onto the quay, trailing a rope.   The bollards were much too far apart and our ropes were not long enough to go round and back to the boat again, so I had to tie bow line loops and slip them over the bollards.  I did the back one by which time the turbulence had pushed Forever’s nose out.  I rushed forward and Mike threw me the forward line, which now had a knot in it!  Well, we of course got no help at all and the whole bloody exercise took ages, lock keeper and crew on the neighbouring Bella waiting with resigned patience.  Not so the early morning traffic being held up by the still open bridge who began to hoot loudly and long.  When I got us finally tied up I stayed on the quay whilst the lock filled (or emptied – I was too distressed to care) and the lock keeper told us to exit first.   I untied the ropes and Forever immediately slid away from the quay.  Mike shouted to me to hurry and I only just made it back, sliding ungracefully over the lifelines into a heap on the deck.  A totally horrifying experience for me.  

Here we are leaving the lock....

...and into the Rhone

It is 41 kilometres from Port Saint Louis to Arles.  The current wasn’t too strong and we were making between 3.6 and 4.9 knots over the ground, so the journey took us less than 5 hours.  The day was now pleasant and sunny, though quite cool and the trip was uneventful, only a couple of large peniches about.  The approach to Arles, which is actually a lovely town, was very disappointing with endless heavy industry cluttering up the river bank all the way along the Rhone.  In Arles itself we’d heard the Halte Fluvial was operating but it was full of small local fishing boats so no chance to moor up.  The only other option is to tie against a floating restaurant ‘Le Peniche’ but there were already three boats there and no more room.  We were sad as we’d hoped to stop there.  However, we have visited Arles quite a few times before by bus or car so it wasn’t too tragic and we carried on.

The next theoretical stop was the Vallabrègues Halte Fluvial a few kilometres past the lock at Beaucaire, a further 19 kilometres.  We weren’t really in the mood for another lock but decided to give it a go.   The stretch of Rhone just before Tarascon and Beaucaire has a very strong current and we slowed up considerably.  However, our 50hp motor had no real trouble.

Going past the medieval town of Tarascon.  The town of Beaucaire is on the opposite bank.

As we rounded a bend in the river to the Beaucaire lock we saw a boat coming out and then the lights turn green.  There was a yacht waiting to go in and Mike put on throttle, but the lock keeper closed the lock before we could get there.  A bit unfriendly we thought as we would only have been another couple of minutes.  However, no problem and we tied up on the waiting quay.  I tried calling on the official VHF channel 20 but there was no reply, so I telephoned and was answered by an electricity company who put me on hold with music and regular affirmations in French and English that my call was important to them and I would be connected shortly.  Eventually the lock keeper picked up the phone.  I mentioned the lack of response on VHF and he sort of slid past that.  He told me there was a large passenger ship coming and we should come into the lock behind it.  OK.  The passenger ship hove round the bend and then another small yacht appeared.

When the lock eventually opened the cruise ship went in and we followed.  I had agreed with Mike we would tie up to our left (port) side and that’s where I stood with my ropes.  We entered the lock, hugging the right hand side which I couldn’t understand but assumed Mike had it under control. (He told me later that the turbulence from the cruise ship kept pushing the boat to the right and he was struggling to move it left.)  We’d never been in one of these locks and had no idea how a floating bollard worked, though I had hunted in all the literature and blogs that I’d downloaded.  I figured it must be dead easy if no one thought to give any details.  Well, we entered the lock with some turbulence from the big ship and then I spotted the bollard in the wall.  I hunted for the second bollard. I had assumed there would be two of them and was completely thrown by the concept of only one.  I shouted to Mike to head for the bollard which we tried to do but we were too far in and overshot the mark.  Oh god, what a cock up.  Very long story cut short we farted around back and forth, but couldn’t now get near the wall, constantly being pushed by the turbulence away from the wall (desperately trying to fend our mast ends off the concrete wall) into the centre and up against the Danish yacht that had come in behind us and tied up on the opposite wall.  They kindly took our ropes and told us to tie onto them which we did.  The passengers on the German cruise ship ahead had all congregated on their back deck to watch, of course.  I’m convinced they were all rolling about laughing at our antics, though at the time I couldn’t have cared less. 

Finally tied up the lock gates closed and we started to fill – it is a 14 metre fill which is a lot of water.  The Danish couple were awfully nice and didn’t make us feel bad about the whole thing.  The picture shows us tied to the Danish yacht and you can see the bollard in the wall.  They looped one rope from the front cleat which she is holding and another rope is looped from the back cleat which he is holding from the cockpit.  Easy, when you know how.  Mike boarded their yacht and helped the lady hold the rope, but it was not too much of a strain.

So, now we know how to do it, it should be easier the next time - please god.  Getting out of the lock was easy and we said goodbye and carried on.  We tried the Halte Fluvial at Vallabrègues but it was much too small and crowded so we just carried on, heading for Avignon.  At this point we were extremely disappointed in the lack of facilities for boats making this journey. 

However, at 7.30pm (14 hours after getting up that morning) we came into the absolutely divine town of Avignon.

Avignon, the Alpes in the far distance and the bridge in the foreground is NOT the Pont d’Avignon.

Once again we were to be disappointed with the facilities.  The Port de Plaisance was washed away in the storm in 2003 but there are still bollards on the wall with water and electricity.  Having been assured that the Halte Fluvials were free, we found this not to be the case and discovered next day that the cost for these minimum facilities is the same as the marina in Port Saint Louis.  However there is one shower ashore, a washing machine and drier and a few magazines in the Capitainerie.  Anyway, that evening we found a spot, tied up and had dinner on deck in the late sunshine. 

This is the sort of thing that makes it all worthwhile which is fortunate because we can’t exactly change our minds now and sail up the Atlantic (though at this point we are both rather wishing we had done so.)

Those friends who were thinking of joining us can forget coming for any lock manoeuvres – just come and sit in a marina for a while!