Chalons-en-Champagne to Cumieres

Wednesday 3 August

We ended up spending three nights at Châlons-en-Champagne at the very pleasant stop.  We didn’t go into the marina and take water or electricity so it was free.  On Monday St Etienne cathedral had been closed, but we managed to get in on our second day.  There are dozens of tall windows with the most incredible stained glass and the natural light in the cathedral is superb.

 

Wifi was to be found in a cafe in town where we lingered over a couple of beers whilst I posted the blog and checked emails.  We met an English couple on Tuesday who came for drinks and were able to give us advice on good stopping places in the rest of this canal as well as the Marne River.  Today was market day and we sampled some more local cheeses. 

Thursday 4 August

Our next stop was at Mareiul-sur-Ay, a four hour trip with five locks and one revolving bridge. We met two boats coming out of one lock and the second one shouted to us something about having been nearly crushed by some gates on exiting.  He hadn't been crushed by the lock gates so we didn't know what he was talking about.  Sometime later when we reached the revolving bridge, we discovered that it appeared to be jammed open as the light was green and remained so after we passed through and never closed again even though there was a car waiting to cross the bridge.  We watched and the poor driver finally gave up, backed up and drove off to look for another bridge.  We assumed this was the gate that had nearly crushed the boat.  When two boats are travelling together and if only one activates the mechanism to warn the bridge of their presence, the bridge (being just a bridge) cannot know there is a second boat.  So, if that first boat is then slow in passing through the bridge, the gates will begin to close on the second one.  We assumed this is what had happened and the bridge mechanism had broken when it detected the second boat.  Clots. 

In this second last lap of the Canal lateral de la Marne, we saw two dead deer floating in the water.  They must have stumbled in and drowned – a perfectly miserable thought.  And surprising, as I’d have thought they were more adept than that.

There was a marina at Mareiul with small pontoons and plenty of space.  It was a rare sunny day and I’d hoped to get some laundry done that afternoon in the Capitainerie (I’d been advised they had a machine) but the office only opened from 6 – 8pm.  We took a walk around the little town.  At this point we are deep into champagne country and this small town had no less than 14 Champagne Houses, imposing residences that we felt too inhibited to enter and ask to taste their champagne, particularly as we had no intention of buying any.  To be honest, neither Mike nor I is interested in champagne so it was no real hardship, though it might have been interesting.  The countryside is dotted with vinyards, the grapes ripe.

We’d been invited for drinks on a New Zealand boat, so did a little shopping and then returned to the boat for a shower.  By 6pm it was raining again, but we checked in at the Capitainerie (€7.50) and the young woman in the office gave me a jeton for the machine and a code to enter the building.  No wifi, sadly, but they had lovely showers and I was sorry I'd had a cramped and uncomfortable shower on board already.  After check in we partook of a few entertaining drinks with the New Zealanders.  The next morning it continued to rain but I did my laundry anyway and we set off with an enormous damp bundle of sheets and towels.

Friday 5 August

A few kilometres after Mareuil-sur-Ay we passed through the last lock at Dizy, leaving the Canal Lateral de la Marne (our last canal) and entered the Marne River.  It is marvellous to be back in a river again, it is wide and deep and more interesting and beautiful than the canals.  We did just a short two hour trip, a second lock and stopped at Cumières, another champagne town full of Champagne Houses and very little else.  We parked on the pontoon between a French boat and an American boat.   The Americans were a very friendly couple who helped us tie up – after so long in the canals the current in the river took Mike unawares briefly.  They also lent us dvds, gave us books, and some advice on the new lock system.

The bank of the river on our side is decorated with wrought iron artworks of the various stages of producing champagne – the final one drinking a glass was my favourite.  Forever is just in front of that French motor boat in the background.

We had only intended to spend one night here but Saturday morning broke grey and stormy and it proceeded to rain most of the day, so we hunkered down below surrounded by damp laundry, reading or watching dvds.

Joinville to Vitry-le-Francois

We stayed two days at La Vinaigerie’s pontoon and enjoyed suddenly pleasant weather – so good we had dinner in the cockpit again!  I took full advantage of the wifi connection and caught up on a few emails.  Joinville was once again a lovely old town, with the river running right through it.

And another beautiful (13^th century) church with a statue of Joan of Arc.

We awoke this morning to a cloudy, misty day, which pretty much continued all day long apart from one or two feeble and short lived outbreaks of sun.

There is so much water about now that the canals are overfilled and spilling all the time.  This is fine except some of the locks we entered today were so full the water level was ABOVE the lock wall, so we were floating over the lock.  Fenders only go down to water level, so we have to be very careful to keep the side of the boat away from the concrete lock edge, until the lock starts to empty.  The spilling causes heavy waterfalls within the lock. 

There are very few boats about – we only met a couple all day today.   We managed 13 locks, six lifting bridges and one overpass.  At our first lock the mechanism wouldn’t work so I phoned and the vnf man arrived a few minutes later and sorted it out.  He informed me that all the remaining locks were automatic but that there were some lifting bridges that someone would come and open for us. 
A couple of hundred yards before the first bridge there dangled over the canal a long rod with a sign to turn the rod.  We had come across this mechanism before in some of the locks, so we slowed down, turned the rod and the bridge lifted.  Easy.  However, at the second lifting bridge there appeared to be no remote method to operate the lift – no radar, no rod and no remote box - so we came to a stop and waited for the promised vnf person.  I tried phoning but there was no reply to their number.  So, since it was lunchtime anyway, we moved to the side, hammered our pickets into the bank with a mallet and moored up.   After lunch I phoned again and someone answered and very genially said someone would be along soon enough.  Ha ha – it was obviously their lunch break too.  We were there about an hour, but it was pleasant enough and the first time we have used our pickets to actually tie up to the side.

We had a bit of high comedy during the day with a duck.  Forever is keeping to the middle of the canal as the sides tend to be full of weed and we bore down on a group of ducks, all of whom swam off to the side except one stubborn (or stupid) fellow who remained in the middle.  Just as Mike was getting worried he would run the bird over, it took flight and shot forward down the canal a couple of hundred yards, and then settled again - right in the middle.  Once again we came up on him and again he sat there until we were almost upon him, then took to the air and flew a bit further this time and once again settled in the middle of the canal.  We’d got the giggles by then, and blow me down if he didn’t just sit there again until we almost ran him over and then took off into the air again, flapping furiously, but staying smack IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CANAL.  The third time he flew so far he met up with another group of ducks, so we couldn’t identify him, but when we came up they all moved over to the side.

The rural French are keen container gardeners, red and pink geraniums and bizzy lizzies being favourites, particularly together.

We arrived at Saint Dizier at 5pm and moored on the public quay.  There was nothing interesting there but we did find a good supermarket close by the next morning.  However, we didn’t explore the town of Saint Dizier, which is no doubt very nice.  It is a very big town.

Saturday 30 July

Another quite boring day, just working our way through a seemingly endless series of locks – eight today, no lifting bridges – and arrived this evening at the very nice Halte Nautique at Orconte.  It is €6 per day and there is even a shower here!   Orconte is a small village with nothing much but there is a bakery and (amazingly) a nightclub!  There are some pretty old houses (same flower boxes). 

We came here because we intended to do an 11 lock run tomorrow out of this canal and straight into the Canal Lateral de la Marne, passing through Vitry-le-François.  However, the gear box continues to give us trouble.  Mike did some work on a cable and it seemed much better for a couple of days, but forward gear is pausing again and we are worried about getting into the big rivers (the Marne and Seine) with a dodgy gearbox.  A neighbour told us there is a mechanic at Vitry-le-François, so we will stop there after all.  The neighbour also lent us a chart of the Marne River as we don’t have one and I traced all the relevant pages out – long tiresome job.

Sunday 31 July

Amazingly, there were stars in the sky last night and this morning it has remained sunny and pleasantly warm all day.  We left Orconte after lunch and spent another fairly uneventful afternoon taking in six locks.  The mechanism on quite a few of the locks wouldn’t work initially, but we persevered and eventually they did.  Once again the water level is very high making manoeuvrability difficult, especially at the last lock which had a protruding submerged shelf (which no one told us about) and which we nearly dinged the boat on.  At this last lock we handed back our ‘telecommande’ and we have now finished the Canal between Champagne and Burgundy. 

The depth at the marina in Vitry-le-François is marked as 1.6m.  As we are 1.67m we didn’t like to enter but there was nowhere else to go.  Finally we begged permission to tie up against a large barge in the canal, and the man agreed but advised that he had work beginning on the barge next morning and was afraid our yacht would be damaged.   We agreed to move in the morning and tied up for the night.

After settling the boat we took a walk over to the marina and met a few people.  There is a South African boat moored outside the marina and we will take his place tomorrow morning when they leave.  He had a bad experience with a mechanic so we won’t try that chap. 

Monday 1 August

Well, the welders arrived and got work on the barge at 8 o’clock, courteously starting at the other end of the barge so as not to disturb us too much.  As soon as the South African boat left, we tried to settle on the wall outside the marina but it was too shallow and we got stuck in the mud for a bit.  I had tried phoning one mechanic but he lives in St Jean-de-Losne (fat lot of use that is) and the only other one we think is the chancer who charged the South African €500 for a three hour job, so we gave up on the whole idea and left Vitry at 9.30am. 

Today we entered the Canal Lateral de la Marne, got through eight reasonably easy locks and are now in Chalons-en-Champagne where we have found a free spot to tie up near the marina.  Mike has had a go at the gear box and we think it is ok.  Hurrah.  Hopefully that has saved us a large mechanic’s fee.  We will see how we go.  Chalons is a lovely town with the most beautiful cathedral I have yet seen – St Etienne.

Langres to Joinville

Saturday 22 July

As agreed with the vnf, we cast off at 11 am today after a run to the supermarket for provisions.  Our first lock was a straightforward remote operated one, but at the second we were met by a cute young woman with a blonde pony tail who escorted us, shooting along the tow path on a motor bike for the rest of the day, opening and closing the locks for us as we went, including one weird bridge that had to be physically swung sideways.  One or two of the locks gave her trouble, but she sorted them out and she left us at the agreed stop of Rolampont (PK 139), another nice Halte Nautique with services. 

Sunday 23 July

Our friend Jacqueline phoned last night and asked if we’d put our heating on.  At the time I said no, it wasn’t that cold, but it certainly was the next morning.  It had rained again in the night and was now grey, windy and freezing cold.  Nonetheless, we left early, 9 am, and managed 15 locks, one lifting bridge and twice the canal passed, rather excitingly, over the Marne River. 

We had three young people assisting us today – two men and a woman – each taking care of us for a section. They were all charming, friendly and helpful.  Mainly though it was a long boring day, the locks are so close together that you can’t really relax and do anything in between – not even a cup of coffee.  There’s not much to see either, just thick forest either side of the canal.  The rivers are definitely more interesting than the canal.  And it was made worse for me by the fact that I didn’t feel well and got progressively worse as the day passed.  I felt quite weak and miserable by the time we got into the stop at the town of Chaumont (PK 110).  This is not free – including water and electricity and taxes it cost us €22 for two nights, though the facilities are not much better than the free stops.  There’s a washing machine (very  cheap) and wifi though the connection is only good in the capitainnerie.  The capitan was friendly and obliging.

We’d met Walter (Swiss) at Langres and that evening he arrived, having done 21 locks in the day, and he and his two dear and very old dogs came for a beer with Mike.  I told him I thought he was brave to do 21 locks but he confirmed what we already know – the locks are dead easy for straight sided shallow depth motor boats, even single handed.  Later he brought me a coke and seven little sugar coated pills from his very expensive homeopathic medicine box.  Homeopathy only works if you believe in it and I can’t say I do, but it was very sweet of him.  Basically I think I had what the French call a ‘crise de foie’ – liver crisis - from too much cheese, paté, and other good things.  I’d had no lunch and couldn’t face dinner so went to bed with a nice empty stomach and feel a little better today.

Thankfully, we’d already decided to stop an extra night at Chaumont, but it was a little wasted as I just sat about feeling grim.  The general ‘malaise’ has passed but now I have toothache – it feels like an abscess – which is very miserable.  I’m chewing paracetamols at a great rate. We’d been recommended a good restaurant in Chaumont, but I didn’t feel like eating and it was closed Sunday and Monday anyway!

Tuesday 26 July

At 10 am we set off again, taking in 11 locks, one tunnel (only 308 metres this time), one overpass and two lifting bridges.

We were assisted by two sweet young things today for the first nine locks and then the locks became electric, controlled by our remote telecommandes.  Our ‘assistante’ continued with us to make sure all was well, which was fortunate because the first one didn’t work.  However, the vnf technician was there and he sorted it out.  The next two worked fine.  It’s very nice having the young students travelling along with you, some of them are very friendly, chatty and helpful, but we prefer the remote controlled ones as they are quicker.   I must say this part of the canal is really not interesting and continues with heavy forest on both sides.  Occasionally, it opens out to farm houses, pasture land, lovely cows often with calves and even some crops, but then it closes in again and we only get glimpses of the countryside through the trees.  The weather continues grey, windy, drizzly and cold.  There are patches of clear sky and even sun and then it gets quite hot rather quickly.  One peels off layers of clothing and three minutes later it’s cold again.

We arrived at the delightful Halte Nautique at Froncles at 3.30 pm, me tired and fed up with my sore gums.  The Halte here is only €1.50 to stop and another €1.50 for electricity.

The late afternoon and evening turned out wonderfully, the clouds scudded away and a little sunshine poked through drying everything off and warming us up.  We changed into shorts and t shirts and took a stroll around the little village which is quite well supplied commercially - restaurants, tobacconist, hairdressers and an enormous Post Office.  We didn’t see a grocery store but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one and we didn’t need anything.  As for bread, we were happy to hear that the baker’s van comes to the Halte at around 9.30 every morning.

For the first time in ages, we sat in the cockpit and had our sundowners and then dinner, watching a few locals playing boules in the picnic area.  My toothache has receded a bit and I was able to enjoy my dinner.

Wednesday 27 July

A nice late start at 10 am – and then nine locks (all automatic), two overpasses and a lifting bridge later we arrived at Joinville.  We passed a large riverside factory which was obviously dumping waste into the water and there was a milky sheen of whitish powder over the water for a long stretch.

At our last lock I got chatting with two adorable just- teenagers hanging about the lock.  They wanted to know if we knew the queen and had we been to the wedding?  Funny little things.  They took our photo so we took one of them.  

Initially, we parked at the Halte Nautique, which is also a mobile home/caravan park and was quite full.  However, we’d been told about a B&B called ‘La Vinaigerie’ with a pontoon further downstream, so we investigated and then moved there.  There is wifi connection (a big draw for me) for €1 per day plus we pay a small amount for electricity.  It is very quiet and pleasant here and there is a big supermarket and garage very conveniently just over the road.

Piepape to Langres

Thursday 21^st July

It rained in the night and started drizzling again early in the morning.  So, despite having told the vnf girl we’d be leaving at 8 am, we had a lie in, walked into Piépape village to buy fresh bread, and then set off at 10.30 am.  I telephoned the vnf and a man in a van duly turned up at the first lock to let us through.  There are no radar detectors here but the locks are very close together and once you go through one it sets the next lock into operation.  The design and layout of all the locks was identical so the process was quite smooth apart from a couple of them refusing to open or close, in which case I called the vnf (there’s an intercom system on the dock which saves using one’s phone) and someone always arrived very quickly – even during the lunch hour to my pleased surprise.

The countryside here is very agricultural with lots of wide open spaces and gently rolling hills in the background – just the sort of land I’d like to live in.  There are lush green fields (the drought is well and truly over) dotted with fat, healthy looking cattle, mostly white or a soft cream or occasionally brown and white.  They stand about placidly in herds of ten or twenty munching the grass or lie lazily chewing the cud.  They are beautiful.

 

On flatter ground the crops are grown – tall leafy stalks of green corn already tasselling but still too young to warrant stealing a couple for dinner; spectacular sunflowers, heavy yellow heads straining to tilt towards the sun; and short stems of ripe beige wheat rustling in the wind, much of it already harvested.

We are passing through many small villages with pretty, well kept gardens full of vegetables and fruit trees.   Along the tow path are people, not too many, walking, cycling, camping, swimming or fishing. They are usually families or groups of school age kids on an organised outing.  People are generally well behaved and the children make hardly any noise – they don’t scream, like English kids.  And no litter, anywhere.  Shades of ‘Stepford’ - must be something in the water.  There’s a pleasant rural tranquillity about it that belies the crime statistics, apparently.

Early afternoon we finally got to Ecluse Number 1, our last ‘up’ lock, where we were greeted by an endearingly friendly chap who took all our details (he was charmed to hear we were from Zimbabwe which he’d never heard of, but seemed to think there may be a lot of Irish people there) and said he would arrange approval for us to go through the Balesmes Tunnel.  This would take 15 minutes so we tied off in the lock and gratefully relaxed with a cup of tea and sandwich.  When he returned with the go ahead he insisted on giving us a chocolate each and so delighted with him were we that we gave him a jar of our apple chutney – I warned him it was spicy but he assured me he would like it.

A few kilometres along we reached the tunnel which passes under Balesme-sur-Marne – this is 4,820 metres long and only 5 metres wide so only one boat can go through at a time.  It took us nearly an hour to pass through.

Despite what I’d read in our chart, inside it is well lit, dead straight and deathly quiet until we came upon a group of workmen putting in new light fittings.  Their calls to each other echoed weirdly down the tunnel and gave us quite a start before we identified them. 

I believe the tunnel was finished, along with the canal, in 1907 so over the last hundred years the constantly dripping water on the walls has formed wonderful stalactites in places.  My camera just wouldn‘t take a good picture of them.

The tunnel marks the highest spot on the canal and a couple of kilometres after it we reached our first descending lock – oh, what a pleasure that was!  We slid slowly into the lock, then without leaving the boat we looped our ropes gently over the bollards at water level, pressed the remote control at the blue rod and down we went, so calmly we barely had to hold our lines.  Bliss!  No more slimy ladders, wildly swinging boat, us shouting at each other, and the end of calluses on my poor little hands.  The whole thing took a few minutes and we were on our way, slipped with equal ease down the second lock and arrived at the Halte Nautique near Langres (PK 149) at 5 pm in very good spirits.  The vnf man was there to greet us and wanted to know when we are leaving again and I told him 11 am Saturday.  We’d had intermittent light drizzle all day, but the good downpour held off until we arrived, as usual, and we got drenched again.

Once again the Halte is free with water and electricity (from 4pm to 9am which is fair enough) but the water is shallow and once again we have had to tie up some way from the dock.   Isis is also here and also has its stern sticking out into the canal.  To get to shore we rigged as a gangplank the board we usually have hanging along the side of the boat.  It was still slimy from the lock walls and Mike managed to slip on it when it was wet and hurt his back, poor chap.  Luckily, and amazingly, he didn’t fall in. 

Despite his bad back, Mike spurned the bus this morning and he managed the long uphill hike into the ancient and lovely town of Langres, birthplace of the philosopher Diderot. 

We took a wander into St Mammés Cathedral, stunning architecture with beautiful soaring arches.  I am constantly delighted by the sheer beauty of Catholic churches and in equal measure appalled by the almost pagan symbolism of the interior decoration.  There is no doubt that Christianity (particularly the Roman Catholic bit of it) has inspired man to the heights of his artistic ability.

Today, Friday, was market day but we found the fresh produce rather disappointing.  However, we bought a Langres cheese which is delicious and have treated ourselves with a ready cooked roast chicken for dinner tonight.  The rain has held off all day and we’ve even had long sunny periods.  However, it darkened again this evening and is now pouring.  We haven’t had a meal in the cockpit since leaving the Saône a week ago and I really miss that.  Of course, it is high here and much further north, so one can expect it to be cooler and wetter.  Mountain weather, I guess.  The countryside is slightly different – more hilly and more trees, almost alpine.  There are still plenty of cows, but not many crops.  We’ve passed quite a few lumber yards along the canal.

Maxilly to Piepape

Monday 18 July

We managed 13 locks and 1 automatic bridge this day.  The automatic bridge refused to open so I telephoned the vnf man who said it was broken but someone was coming, and at that moment a young man drove up in a van and lifted it for us.  We are most impressed by the service provided by the vnf.  There are little vans that run up and down the tow path, checking that everything is alright and they sort things out quickly if there’s a problem.  Most of the locks operate with the ‘telecommande’ remote, which you click when about 300 metres from the lock and that sets the operation in motion.   A few were automatic which means the operation is activated when the boat passes a radar beam.  At our first automatic, nothing happened.   I phoned the vnf man and he asked if we were a small, plastic boat.  Well, that sounds so dismal, but I agreed that we were.  He said, that’s the problem and you will have this problem all the way up.  Don’t you have a reflector?  Ah, yes.  We grabbed our reflector out of the locker and waved it at the radar beam and Voila, the green light went on.

The locks are endlessly challenging - slimy, weed laden, spider web laced metal ladders almost always on the opposite side to the operating mechanism, badly positioned bollards and sometimes turbulent water.  Mike holds the boat against the wall by the ladder and I clamber up (very carefully) hauling both ropes, slip them round one or preferably, if possible, two bollards, pass Mike’s rope back to him, snub mine off and then walk across the bridge to the other side, lift the blue rod, scuttle back across the bridge and take my rope, then hold on tight whilst the lock fills.  The ‘telecommande’ remote control locks are easier because I can use the remote to activate the process and don’t have to cross the bridge and lift the blue rod.  It’s a tiring, dirty business but we are becoming quite proficient.  Every day we bless our new fat fenders which hold the boat quite steady.   The canal is full to overflowing so the rain has finally made some real difference. 

Just after the lock at St Seine, and as we were beginning to worry about finding somewhere for the night because there was nothing marked on our chart, we found a small picnic mooring (PK197) scarcely big enough for one boat and tied up in another torrential downpour.  Half an hour of heavy rain was followed by brilliant sunshine for about an hour, then it clouded over again and has remained cloudy, occasionally drizzling.

Tuesday 19 July

Next morning, still gloomy and cold, we set off and only had six locks to our next stop at Cusey (PK 181) an extremely nice Halte Nautique free with electricity and water, where once again we arrived in torrential rain.  Rain is good but we’re getting a bit weary of it now.

There is a small mobile home functioning as a restaurant open midday and evening serving salads and snacks, but although there were four boats here, none of us availed ourselves of their services (which I felt was a shame).  We took a walk into the little village but found absolutely nothing commercial – there’s the inevitable church and Mairie and I saw a post box, but that’s it.  The New Zealand sailing boat, Isis, took their bikes on a long search of various villages in the area and found not one shop.  Isis has a very long mast and trail a dinghy, making them a bit unwieldy, and they also have 1.8m draught so they get grounded rather often.  They are a laid back and resourceful bunch, particularly their teenage son Sam, and they manoeuvre their way out of all sorts of mishaps. 

Wednesday 20 July

Once again it was gloomy and cold, but we set off at 11 am and took in 11 locks.  Along the way, in the middle of a lock manoeuvre, we were approached by a lady from the lock keeper’s house and sold a jar of Acacia Honey.  It wasn’t cheap but Acacia trees are common in Zimbabwe so we know this honey.   We also admired Madame’s sense of commerce.  Although some are derelict, many of the old lock houses are now inhabited by ordinary citizens, some of whom are friendly and like to pass the time of day and others who ignore us.  I don’t get too many opportunities to practice my French any more so I chat away to anyone who will oblige.  No one has ever offered to take our lines or lift the blue rod.

Curiosity stops many people passing by in cars, on bikes or on foot, to watch the boats struggling in the locks and it’s nice to have a little chat, except when you’re having problems tying up, in which case you’d prefer not to have an audience.  I complained, quite gently, to the pretty young woman in the vnf van who’s been monitoring us for two days now about the fact that the ladder is always on the opposite side from the blue rod.  She agreed that it is totally impractical and offered as an excuse that the locks are very old – the implication being that folk were less logical back in the early 1900’s.  Basically, of course, the locks are designed for large commercial peniches and not small pleasure craft.

We arrived at the Halte Pique-Nique just beyond the lock at Piépape (PK169) at 3.30 pm.  We’d been told about this picnic spot by two yachts and assumed the depth would be good but it wasn’t and we’ve tied up with the keel firmly in the mud and our stern sticking out.  It’s a long bone jarring jump to the shore.  At least today it has not rained, though it has remained mostly cloudy and cool.  There are sunny bursts, we peel our jackets off and I get the camera out, but they never last long.  We hear it is going to stay this way till the end of the week.

Tomorrow we have a continuous chain of 11 automatic locks, which will bring us to our highest point and the last of the up locks.  We have been coming upwards since Port Saint Louis.   It is rumoured that going down is easier than coming up. 

We are hoping so.

Auxonne to Maxilly - into the canal

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 13^th 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 15^th, 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.

St Jean to Auxonne

Monday 11 July

Friendly welcoming committee

We were subjected to violent thunderstorms and heavy rainfall in St Jean on Thursday and Friday, but it cleared briefly on Saturday morning so we took off.   Histoire d’Eau had a safety inspector visiting them that day and were going to have to leave the pontoon for a while so it seemed a good time for us to go. 

The lock on this stretch was our first automatic lock and we had been fully briefed by Peta and Steve on how to operate it, but our thunder was stolen somewhat by another boat in front of us with whom we shared the lock and who did all the automatic bits.  Anyhow, we could watch them and it all seemed easy enough.  Once in the lock, Mike stopped at the ladder on the left hand side and I climbed up carrying the rope (Mike and I had decided that, because of the fat fenders, we would in future only use one line at the centre of the boat) slipped it over the bollard and passed it back to Mike who held on to it.  I stayed up on the wall and watched the proceedings.  The other boat pushed the blue rod up to start the automatic process, the gates closed and the lock began to fill.   Despite being the smallest and shallowest lock yet (1.85m) the turbulence was terrific and Mike struggled to hold the boat onto the wall.  In future we will go back to using two lines and I will return to the boat, it’s safer.  I heard the lady on the neighbouring boat tell her friends that this was the ‘most exciting’ of the locks and we were pleased to hear it.

Shortly after the lock we reached the town of Auxonne where we found the usual long pontoon with electricity and water points.  After a brief, heart stopping moment of grounding on a shallow patch, we managed to find deeper water and tied up with the help of a friendly neighbour.  Shortly after, a dear young girl, Elodie, turned up and introduced herself as the welcoming committee from the tourist association of Auxonne, presented us with a map of the town and informed us of the facilities.  Berthing was free but we could pay for electricity and water at €1 for 2 hours, so we have taken a euro’s worth each day.  Elodie spoke some English and German as well as her native French and couldn’t have been more obliging, including telling off a ski motor boat for passing too close to the boats and creating an uncomfortable wake.  She sits in a little wooden building on the banks beside the pontoons, but leaps out to welcome each boat as it arrives.  It’s a summer job for her.

The town of Auxonne is old and historic with a very beautiful church ( all set out for a wedding later in the day).... 

Wierd shops  



... ancient houses....

and Napoleon...     



It has continued to rain heavily for two days, particularly Sunday so we spent practically the whole day sitting on the boat, reading and watching dvd’s.  I do hope some of this rain is falling in the north and filling up some of the rivers and canals.  Today it’s nice and sunny again.  Mike went out to buy gear box oil and we changed that, gave the boat a scrub and then we visited the Chateau and museum, Napoleon on the ground floor (he lived here for some time as a first Lieutenant at the garrison) and the history of Auxonne on the next two with this amazing Charpente at the top. 

For the first time on this trip we have made no new friends nor met up with old friends.  We are surrounded mostly by hire boats that charge in and out again very quickly.  Further up the river there is a H2O marina and we saw our German friends’ boat Carolin there, but they have gone back to Germany for a couple of weeks and were not in.

Opposite the church is the tourist office that allows unlimited wifi at €1 if you take your own computer.Good stuff.

Opposite the church is the tourist office that allows unlimited wifi at €1 if you take your own computer. Good stuff.