Bastille Day
The welcome in Auxonne had been so good and we felt so comfortable there we decided to stay for the Bastille Day celebrations. The open air picnic planned for the evening of the 13th became an indoor picnic in the town hall as it continued wet throughout the day. That day the 31 foot sailing yacht Banyan came in and we met English Adrian and Giselle who have just come down the Marne to Saône canal. We sat together at the party, each taking our own selection of food and talked about the canals. They worried us a bit with tales of very low water and slow moving barges kicking up clouds of mud and weed, even though they draw only 1 metre.
The rain held off for Bastille Day itself which was relatively quiet, apart from lots of jet skis and water ski boats flying up and down and a solemn parade of chanting French police.
In the morning, we took our bikes and went for an energetic cycle into the countryside. Later, a Dutch 45 foot steel sailing yacht Heindrikje Visser arrived and berthed heavily on the mud in the shallow spot where we had grounded, and we met John (who grew up in Cape Town) and his Dutch wife Carla. They had just come down the Canal de l’Est and with a depth of 1.75 m they assured us they had no problems and when there was a shortage of water they simply waited - eventually the VNF obligingly let sufficient water through to allow them to pass. They all came to Forever that evening and we swapped notes on where (and where not) to stop along the way. We exchanged our Rhône chart with Banyan for their Marne to Saône chart.
Later that night, Mike and I walked across the bridge and watched the most amazing fireworks display we’ve seen since Palma, New Year 2001/2 – remarkably fine pyrotechnics for a small town.
The next day, Friday 15th, I asked Isabelle (Elodie’s colleague, another charming young woman) to phone the VNF for me who confirmed that there is enough water in the Marne to Saône canal, then we did a bit of shopping, bid all our new friends a fond farewell, untied our lines and headed north up the river. One kilometre up I noticed that the raw water cooling system wasn’t operating so we went into neutral whilst Mike sorted it out (he’d cleaned the filter the previous day and obviously left an air lock), and then put the engine into gear again...... and nothing happened. No forward gear. Reverse would work, but not forward.
We had no choice then but to reverse back the way we’d come – very comical I’m sure and we got a few funny glances. Steering in reverse is weird and difficult so we decided to tie up initially against a large barge Jake, owned by Peter, and Mike was doing very well and until the last moment when things went a bit pear-shaped, though not tragically. Another Dutchman, Dick, came to help us and then Peter spotted us and he came out to help, and then Adrian came along and joined in and, with a little help from our friends, eventually got rafted up against Jake.
Peter came aboard and we all had a cup of tea and discussed our options. Then South African John arrived and he and Mike took a good look at the gear box, poked about, tried forward gear – and it worked! Later Mike dived to check the propeller which was clear and we all decided that whatever had been blocking it was now removed (perhaps by a kilometre of reversing).
We sat drinking a few beers on Heindrikje Visser that afternoon and every time a ski boat shot past and rocked the boat she would clunk onto her steel bottom with a thud. Later on though, the water level became very high and the boat floated and we took heart that the rain had lifted the level of the river. We spent a sociable evening with John, Carla and Peter.
Next morning, we once more did the rounds to say goodbye only to find Heindrikje Visser, happily floating last night, was now sitting with her water line at least one foot above the water and thoroughly grounded! Elodie said they must have opened the ‘barrage’ just beyond the bridge and let water through. Worried that the water level would continue to drop, John wanted to get out, so Dick brought his barge, which is like a little tug with a 149 hp engine and, with Mike as crew, they managed to pull John off the mud. The tug was a bit forceful and Heindrikje Visser swung sideways and slammed her forward hull hard against the dock, causing Elodie and I to make a cowardly leap backwards. Carla, to her credit, stayed put and pushed her boat as best she could off the dock, but not before a long streak of paint and steel were scraped off. A nasty moment.
After John had re-berthed further up in deeper water, we said our goodbyes again and finally left the very nice town of Auxonne.
Goodbye waves between Heindrikje Visser and Jake.
The gear box behaved mostly well (there has been the odd delayed reaction but it always finally clicked into gear) and we passed uneventfully through Pontailler-sur-Saône and our last two Saône locks and then turned west into the Saône to Marne canal - this is still how it is described on all literature as well as the overhead banner as you enter the canal, but for some confusing reason the authorities now want to call it the Canal between Champagne and Burgundy (Bourgogne). The canal is 224 kilometres long and includes 114 locks.
There was a new system to the locks now. The first lock was open and the green light was on so we entered, I climbed up the ladder and we tied up. On the dock I found the stand where there is a phone – you just press the button and it calls the vnf. He told me to wait for a ‘telecommande’ – a small remote control box – and to call him back in 10 minutes. Reading the instructions properly, I noticed then that we should already have lifted the blue rod before calling, so I did and the lock filled. By then the ten minutes was up so I called again, noticing that the remote had popped out the bottom of the phone box in the interim. I gave him our boat name and the number of the telecommande, he gave me scanty instructions and then opened the exit gates for us by remote control. Fortunately, Adrian and Giselle had given us a leaflet with fuller instructions.
There was a second lock almost immediately which we managed without too much of a problem. The blue rod was placed on the left side, but the ladder was on the right, so I scuttled up and then realised that the only decent bollard was on the left. I crossed over on the bridge, Mike threw up the ropes and I tied us off. Of course, I now wasn’t able to return to the boat so I lifted the blue rod and then remained on the dock and held my rope from up above. That worked perfectly well and it was easy to get aboard again when the boat had risen to the top of the lock.
Just outside this second lock at the small village of Maxilly (PK222) we found a very pleasant Halte Nautique where we stopped for two nights. Berthing is free but electricity and water cost €3 for 3 hours.
We’d only intended to stop one night, but the rain came down heavily again that night and most of the following day so we just sat tight, read books and watched dvds. By the tow path was a tree groaning with small sour apples, so we picked a whole lot and I’ve made a new batch of chutney - sour fruit makes good chutney. I took a walk into the village to buy the token for electricity and found a bakery, a grocery, a fishing store, a Mairie, a church, a school and a hairdresser. It is a very rural village.
We saw no traffic at all in either direction until late that second afternoon, when three other boats came in and shared the mooring with us for the night. I spoke with one of the neighbours and asked him how he’d found the canal. ‘Weedy’, was his reply. However, he said the water level was ok and about 1.8 to 2 metres all the way. Mike is checking the raw water filter every day.
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