|
|
Our
First Canal Venture Here we were then all safe and sound in Calais.
The next step was to arrange for the lock keeper to allow us through the
first lock into the canal system. We were all nerves especially since we had
walked across from the harbour to have a look at the lock and had not been
terribly impressed. The water in the lock was full of debris, including weed,
plastic bottles, plastic bags, sticks, and other unmentionable items and
decaying "things". It was rather late in the afternoon that we were
finally able to arrange to leave the harbour and to make our way the short
distance around the jetty and into the inner basin. We arrived to find no sign
of a lock keeper, but he did finally arrive out of the blue, and with a lot of
squealing and screeching of the old capstans and wire ropes the gates were
opened. We gingerly headed forward
desperately praying that none of the swirling flotsam was going to give us a
problem. Then, having hurriedly closed the gates behind us, and opened the
sluice gates the lock keeper ran forward to us and handed
us some papers printed in French indicating that we were to fill in some
sort of questionnaire in duplicate. We had some difficulty in understanding what
was required, and offered him our newly acquired French Vignette and
"papers". Which already had all the information that he should need.
He became very agitated and indicated that it was time for him to go home, and
if I did not hurry he would leave me locked in for the night.--- Heaven only
knows what I wrote on that piece of paper---- still my writing was about as
intelligible as the crossword that had been presented to me. Down we went
without incident even having
forgotten to loop a rope around a bollard. It was like driving through a
"log- jam"
in a Canadian river. We had entered the lower basin and since it was late
and having just escaped from being imprisoned in the lock all night by an
irritable "eclusier", we decided to moor up to a conveniently low wall
and prepare for an early start next morning. We had a restless night, with both of us having one
eye open, expecting an enormous barge to barge us out of his mooring space. As
it was the night was quiet except for the infrequent PLOP-Plop of some animal?? or bird or something. Babs
was never able to reconcile herself to our having to share the canals with other
aquatic dwellers, and I think she must have spotted every rat that lived in the
French canals. The
largest reptile that I have ever seen was in Epernay in the champagne country.
Thank heavens Babs didn't see it. It was as big as a terrier dog. To this day I
cannot be sure whether it was a Coypu or an Otter. Two
incidents come to mind that have given us and the rest of the family reason to
laugh when we tell the story. It wasn't long after we had entered the canal
system. Babs was still very nervous about having unwelcome rodent visitors on
board, and always made a routine of ensuring that every nook and cranny was
secure. We had spent a fairly comfortable night hearing only the occasional plop
and the regular sucking of the fish around the boat. In the "Invader"
we slept in a double V berth which was forward, with our cabin windows directly
above us. And on this occasion Babs had been sleeping on her side and casually
turned on her back, only to see a very inquisitive rodent face peering at her
through the window, only inches away. I think that if she could have climbed
into my skin she would have done. Then on a later occasion when my son and his
wife were travelling with us, they slept outside under the canopy.
It was very hot and I had opened the hatch, much against Babs wishes.
During the night it became so hot that I decided to turn top to tail so that my
face and chest had the full benefit of the breeze. Babs turned in her sleep and
I felt her hand come to rest on my head. There was a pause then an almighty
scream, Ger Ger there's an animal in the bed. "That’s my head you
silly sausage". ------ I was bruised black and blue in the morning--------
A few moments later my son and daughter broke into uncontrollable
laughter. And the rest of the night was broken again and again with fits of
laughter as they recalled the incident. I
digress. We were up at
the crack of dawn, coffee and toast nothing else we were too excited. We had
braved our first lock, encountered our first eclusier, and we were of to the
next part of the adventure. A swing-bridge. We had read and knew all about the
protocol of lights and "rights of way", and were well prepared, it was
only a couple of hundred yards(metres) away and we approached carefully. There
were no other boats or barges around, But that’s funny there are no lights??.
We approached a little closer and we could see that the lights were there but
were not alight. We had approached too close and were in an area marked clearly
no mooring, so we went astern until we had cleared, and waited, and waited, and
waited. Suddenly two red lights. Ok some one must have seen us or at least
some thing was working ,or was it. After about another half an hour I
decided to tie up and to investigate. Only to find that a car had driven under
the crash barrier on the bridge and had jammed up the works.
My school French came into play only to discover that "it has been
reported, and the engineer will be here after lunch". So there we were ten
minutes of cruising the French canals and tied up for an extended lunch break. The bridge was finally opened and we were able to
continue our journey. It was now getting late in the afternoon, and we were
still in the Canal de Calais. We were as yet not fully Au-fait with the pilots
we had obtained in Calais and in the best traditions decided to pull in and
secure our mooring spikes and tie up. The bank was lined with interlocking metal
plates, and I casually stepped
ashore and promptly disappeared down a gap hidden by the dense undergrowth.
Thank heaven for the canopy. We fastened every thing down and settled for
the evening, not overly impressed with every thing, expecting worse to come,
since we had read about the green slime that clogs the filters.
As it happens we saw no green slime and having started of early the
following morning were mortified to find a lovely little mooring just a little
way further on. It was at that point that Babs took over all navigation plans
and the logbook. I
suppose one could go on and on describing in detail every step of the journey,
but I will not bore you with details. You
will find that as you journey on, all your forebodings will melt away, you will
adapt to the different challenges and over come them. We found that the most
difficult locks to manage were the smaller locks that were over full so that the
hull of the boat tended to overlap the wall. Care had to be taken, as the water
was let out, that your hull did not foul the wall and become damaged. And if you
are in an ascending lock that your hull does not ride over the wall as you drive
out. The all imposing monster locks are the easiest locks to handle, with
their sliding bollards and bollards spaced conveniently up the wall. A word of warning. Do not
allow any one on board to put a leg over the side, for what ever reason, whilst
in or leaving a lock.
We learned the hard way. We had been ushered into a fairly wide lock in
the company of three barges. We were last in. It was an ascending lock for us,
and having filled, two of the barges left and the Bargee of the third waved us
through. We were quite close against the wall, and I engaged gear, moving very
slowly forward. We had travelled some twenty or thirty feet when I noticed the
lock keeper running towards the front of my boat. I disengaged gear and looked
to see what was wrong. All I could see was an arm and a leg crooked around the
steel stanchion. Babs had put a foot over the top of the rail to push of and had
slipped on the slime and fallen between the boat and the wall of the lock, but
had sufficient survival instinct to hang on for grim death. She was not
seriously hurt but was very badly bruised and shaken. Having hauled her back on
board, I pulled forward out of the
lock and moored up quickly to check that she was all right. We were both very
disturbed and shocked, and a little tearful. We
continued our journey not quite knowing whether we wanted to go on or not, and
it was at that time that we came to a pleasant mooring where two British boats
were all ready moored up. There wasn't quite enough room for me to moor, and I
was just about to fume that two Brits had hogged the jetty when there was a hail
from two couples from the bank obviously returning from a shopping trip.
Shouting hang on we will move up. These were two couples who were frequent
visitors to France and were the ones who encouraged us to carry on. We enjoyed
this camaraderie from almost every
boat we met in the canals, and since in the Med. Another
couple we met were a Dutch couple they had a beautiful Dutch steel boat. They
had removed its mast and were spending an extended holiday in the canal system.
We met them whilst waiting for the towing barge at the well known and long
tunnel at Snt Quentin. We were chatting and I told him I was a little nervous
about going through the tunnel since
my steering was dependant on propulsion of my Duo-prop out drive. No problem ! I
will go "lead" you tie up behind me and I will steer you straight. We had only been travelling for about 5 minutes when he
appeared on the stern of his boat calling me to shorten the tow lines. Every
thing was now going well. About 10 to 15 minutes later I spotted him on the side
deck of his boat, he jumped onto the tow- path and came back to us. He handed me
an enormous plate of pancakes with wish of " bon appetite. ".
His wife later told us that she hated the tunnels and that she had
decided to do some cooking to busy her mind. That
tunnel was long, but relatively easy. I do not know how things are at the height
of the season when ten or twenty boats are on tow. You do hear stories. We
encountered several tunnels on our two trips . It is essential to have a very
good arc lamp, because some are unlit. and take good care to observe the light
signals. More
to follow |