From the Loire through Sun and Rain to Le Creusot (19 -29 April)

Friday 19 April we finally leave Digoin with a full tank of diesel and have three locks and 12 kms to Paray-le-Monial. We should be there in three hours but now we have automatic locks and no lock keeper. You might think this would be quicker but we are going upstream (and uphill) and we will have to get ashore before the locks as we are too low within them to get to the quayside.

Luckily the local lock keeper helps us through the first lock.  We say “au revoir” but he says “tout de suite” after just explaining there are no more lock-keepers. We are uncertain at the next lock whether he will be there so we get Linda ashore before we go in, but just as we are in the lock he arrives. I said “tout de suite” he says, and he also sees us through the next two locks.

We arrive at Paray-le-Monial on a lovely evening; we ought to go and look around the town famous for its ancient monastery but are more relaxed alongside a beautifully large park which was once part of the monastery grounds. As Paul and Sue told us at Digoin Claude is moored there in his beautiful Tjalk the Windbuil but he is occupied with various phone calls though waves a cheery hello. The girls have a great walk and run in the park.

A British sail boat the Mistral arrives and we advise them to miss the first set of electric points as they do not work.  Steve and Mary moor up in front of us and we get ropes tied and cables plugged in.  This is a very nice spot. The book says it has an 11 euro charge but no sign of anyone to pay. We advise Steve and Mary that we will be off at 9am in the morning, and as their ropes and cables are intertwined with ours on the bollard we will have to disturb before we go.  No problem, they. They will be off shortly after us.

Sunset at Paray-le-Monial

Saturday morning and at 8am and we are just back with the dogs and getting breakfast when a bang on the roof sets Topsy waking up the whole neighbourhood. It is a local official and there is indeed a charge, and gone up from last year. After us he also rattles Steve and Mary into life.

Steve says he’ll get off with us and we can share locks; he is only 12 metres long so there is plenty of room. He’ll go first as he is higher and he doesn’t want us backing into him. As if!

We cover the next 7 locks and 21 kms in under four hours, even with a major hold up. Steve and Mary take our ropes at every lock. Steve has been working in Paris and has got a new job in Nice. Primarily he just wants to get to the Med, so his target is to just get the Saone in two days, and then down the Saone and Rhone.

Thank God for a Pilot

Quarter of an hour from the first lock and suddenly there are frantic signals from Mary at the back of the boat and signs that engines have been thrown fully astern.  There is trouble under the bridge, shouts Mary as get nearer, can you go astern; a telephone wire (as it turns out but could have been any power line) has snapped from the bridge overhead and presents a complete obstacle to cruising.

We both moor up; Steve’s a pilot Mary explains – he watches out for everything.  We are lucky he saw it. She also explains she is a complete novice just coming along with Steve for the  fun and experience, while for him it is a great help having at least some crew.

We telephone VNF to advise of the problem while Steve launches his tender from the back of the boat and rows to where the cable is. It is Saturday morning after all and the VNF office did not know when someone could get to us. He inspects the cable and then gets to the other bank.  Then he says it is only telephone cable and it is insulated. “I’ll try to pull it out.” This is not as easy as it sounds, it is quite a length, but after 10 minutes or so he has got it to the bank and out of the water. 

As he is rowing back a VNF man arrives and we explain what has happened and the current situation.  VNF arrived in 20 minutes and Steve is very impressed with this, though had he not got the cable out himself no doubt we would have to wait for someone else with more gear.  You can go on, shouts the VNF man from the other bank, and I’ll sort this out now.

And so we do, with no stop for lunch and before 1pm we are at Genelard where we plan to stop a few days; as we chat at locks we explain that we intend to repaint our roof to reflect not absorb the heat; good luck says Steve, you’ve got until Thursday and then the weather will change; his meteo seems the same as ours. Spring is only here for one week, but hopefully we can use it.

Safe and Sound at Genelard

We wave them on as we moor at Genelard while they aim to make the summit before the end of the day (it’s only 30 kms and 16 locks further, and though they have speeded us up, they’ll go even faster without us).  Just watch for the Mistral on the Rhone.

It’s been grey and dull most of the morning but now the day is getting very cheerful.  There is only one other boat at Genelard – the Carpe Diem - which we have seen before, but it looks like there is no-one on it.

We walk the dogs, look around the town and start planning our roof re-painting: Sunday to clear and clean; Monday to sand; Tuesday undercoat; Wednesday first coat; Thursday top coat and anti-slip; if the weather holds we should just do it in time.

A Canalous boat arrives in the evening.  There are no spare points (to plug in for electricity) but we explain we have a “splitter” which doesn’t translate into French (Ha! a Multi-prise, he cheers up when we produce it) so that they get power too.  They are on a working holiday taking the boat down to Beziers!  Did we hear right? A long way to take a hire boat. And they are certainly off first lock in the morning, as we begin our chores.

So Sunday morning, bright and sunny, is clearing off the roof.  We take the splitter out.  It does seem there is someone the Carpe Diem but we haven’t seen them yet.  They have a motor bike and must have been out yesterday.

Cultural and Linguistic Differences

Late morning a camper van arrives.  He looks at the electrical points, pulls out the Carpe Diem cable and then puts his own splitter in, reconnecting both.  Luckily it wasn’t us he disconnected but we think it’s pretty bad to disconnect anyone, even for a few minutes, without checking first. Something could be on in the boat where even a temporary suspension of power can disrupt it.

A few hours later we are cleaning out the gutters on the roof and hear some sharp voices.  The guy from the Carpe Diem has arrived and is pretty annoyed that he was disconnected.  He bends down to check his connection when the man from the camper van grabs him and looks as if he is going to hit him; his arm is grabbed and pushed away.  “What’s the problem” we shout as we jump down and go over.  An incomprehensible argument is going on in French and English, but without need for us both guys begin to cool down.  “What’s he angry about” says the Frenchman. “Nobody threatens to hit me” says the American.  But OK, although both are very angry they are now looking for a solution!

 

Doug, from the Carpe Diem, says there are plenty of points for camper vans on the other side of the canal, this side is for boats. But the camper van does not want to go there.  Still quite angry Doug produces another connector, and allows the camper van to take over his electrical point.  “He should have asked before disconnecting me”, he says, and we cannot argue with that.  And we explain to our French colleague that if we can all calm down we can find a solution, which Doug does.

Monday morning and the camper van turns on engines and is gone at 6am in the dark.  This is a sad story. He probably feels aggrieved, but if only he’d talked first the whole thing could have been avoided.

For us today is “sanding” day.  The weather is fine and getting warmer. We explore the town and walk the dogs, and that takes the whole day.

Painting at Genelard

Monday is “undercoat” day.  But now it is getting very warm.  By midday it is 25ºC but on top of a metal roof it is scorching.  We take a French lunch. At 2.30pm we go to check the roof.  Fascinating (but proving we were right about changing colour) what has been painted over is just warm, but where it is still green it is almost untouchable. We postpone finishing the undercoat until 4pm.  We need a little more paint and some thinner, and discover a really excellent hardware store (fit for a very big town) right on the middle of the village.

Tuesday is first coat and now the weather is getting very hot.  25+ again, but with the change of colour the roof is cooler.  For the last few days there have only been us and Doug and Susan on the Carpe Diem so we can just progress with our work slowly.  A few camper vans, and the VNF personnel drive back and forth to their depot, but they are always cheery and are not fussed about Topsy sitting alongside the quay.  A dog in a neighbouring house, which is locked up in a pen all the time, makes a lot more noise than her.

Wednesday is the second coat mixed in with non-slip additive.  Mixing it in is slow but it works.  It is now getting very hot in the middle of the day irrespective of the roof.  We have to leave finishing to the evening.  Even though we can see where we will need to improve the finish, and do some touching-up it is not bad job overall, and we are quite pleased.

Roof painted – from green to ivory

Now quite a few boats arrive.  Two families of Belgians, one in a barge and one in a cruiser.  But the cruiser seems to be having serious engine problems.  And then the Ariana with a couple of Kiwis, who moor alongside us. And both the Belgians and the Ariana have dogs, as do several camper vans.  So Wednesday night is dog heaven or dog hell, depending upon your point of view.

So all done (well almost) on Thursday morning we are on our travels again. The Belgians go first together, then the Carpe Diem, then us on our own.  The CD and the Morverc’h are too long to fit into a lock together. 

We go through some lovely country side – this is the real Charolais (Charolles is only a few miles away) - but the weather is definitely changing. 

Even in Charolais country the cows are lying down

Trouble at Montceau

We get to the edge of Montceau-les-Mines and have decided we will try to moor for the night at “Bon Amarrage” at St Vallier.  As we arrive there both Belgian boats are the quay, but moored out at diagonals.  The cruiser tells us his engine again.  The lady says it’s “kaput” and shows resignation.  The Belgian barge in front warns us that it is very shallow on this quay. 

We were warned.  We can’t get in, and when we try to get off our midships is caught in mud.  With poles and engine and bow thruster and Belgian assistance we finally get away.  We moor across the way a couple of hundred metres upstream where this is shuttering.  It’s OK for lunch but we decide we will gone to Blanzy for the night, telephoning ahead to VNF for passage through the lift bridges and locks in Montceau.

Meanwhile the Belgian cruiser has managed to get going but we look behind and see our Belgians friends in the barge having the same trouble getting off the quay as we had.  We think about going back to help, though not knowing what we could do.  But just then she gets her stern off following the bow into midstream.

Another few hundred yards and we see the Belgian cruiser moored up at some very nice moorings.  We curse our French.  The very helpful lock-keeper had said there were good moorings at St Vallier “devant la Tour”.  We can hear that clearly now but we he spoke we heard “en avant de”.  “In front of” and “before”.  Big difference in English.  But we are committed now, and though the moorings are good they are very close to a busy road, so not so easy for the dogs.

Bridges to left your spirits

So we pass the bridges and port Montceau and arrive at Blanzy.

The Port at Montceau – But only Pontoons too short for us

We arrive at Blanzy.  Two boats already in.  Will there be room for us?  It’s tight.  Hah-ha.  It’s the Renaissance from last year (the Two Terries) and ahead of them the Carpe Diem.  We can just squeeze in behind the Renaissance.

We moor up and plug in and Terry comes for a cup of tea.  The weather is getting worse and they are staying put until Tuesday.  There is power and water here.  We take the dogs up the Macon Road and along the “Allee Cavalliere” and through the park and a farm.  They have a good walk but it’s really beginning to rain steadily now.  So we hunker down for the night, except for a last thing walk with the girls.

Rain, rain, rain

We had planned to cycle back to Montceau for the Saturday morning market, but Terry had warned it would be rained off.  It had rained all night, and was still raining, sometimes pouring, through the morning.  Other than walks with the dogs, with their coats on against the driving rain, we don’t go.  The rain was just shocking. Affreux.  We kept the fire going well, read and watched videos.  You just did not want to go out in this.

We had told the lock-keeper we would move on Sunday.  The Two Terries were dubious.  The weather won’t change until Tuesday.  But Sunday we get up and ready to go.  Doug and Susan on the Carpe Diem were going too and we agreed they would go first, as we would have to put Linda ashore at each lock which would slow us down.

We were both held up and a lock keeper had to come to operate the lock.  After that it was fine until although at the fifth of seven locks for that day a lock keeper again  turned up to make sure the lock worked OK.  There were some beautiful views while we waited.

A Better day Today – the Cows are Standing Up

And Even the Wild Trees are Trying to Blossom

We arrived at the seventh lock at about 1220 (on the Centre you can carry on through lunch time as long as you operate the locks yourself) but Doug and Susan were still in the lock with gates open.  When we got to them they explained that the gates would not close so that the lock could fill.  They had telephoned VNF at 1155 but weren’t expecting anyone before 1300.  By now it was approaching that time

.

Doug and Susan (Carpe Diem) Stuck in a Lock while Topsy Looks On

Finally at the Summit

And indeed the very reliable lock keeper turns up and gets the lock working again.  We are moored up by 1330, and have reached the summit at Montchanin.

We want to look at Montchanin which we haven’t seen before.  It’s a nice enough town, but really a satellite of Le Creusot, and not as exciting as we had hoped, but perfectly serviceable. 

The Centre of Montchanin – Roads Lead to Chalons and Le Creusot

But this is the summit and the lakes that feed water to the canal.  They provide great walks for the dogs, though on Sunday there is, as the French say, “du monde”, the world and her family.

The Belgian barge arrives and we are three for the night.  Topsy is relaxed with these three boats now but still prefers to guard the bank.

Moored at Montchanin with Guard in Attendance

Early morning walks with the dogs.  The lakes are quiet and beautiful now, though when they say “sentier inondé” they mean it, as Glyn discovered all too late, returning with very wet feet.  But the water fowl are enjoying their peace.

A Single Coot on the Lake – though the mate is not too far away

Of Mallards there are a few more

So we take it all in, and prepare for the descent to the Saone.  

Who was to know that a week later this whole section of the canal for 15 kms would be emptied of water as a bank burst under the force of the flood water, and all the water seeped out leaving boats stranded?  See “Storms and Floods” in next posting.