Weert to Turnhout

We are now in Belgium having crossed the border (unmarked, on the canal at least) and bought our 7-month winter licence (E50). But just before we crossed, there was another car/boat fuel station. This time white diesel was E1.17/litre and red was E0.90/litre – the best yet, and of course free water! So both fuel tanks and the water tank are full and we have moored up above Lock 18 within a couple of kilometres of the pleasant little town of Bocholt.

At breakfast we watched as a crane unloaded from a workboat, which was sitting in the lock behind us, all the paraphernalia required to replace the lower lock gates – the new gates, of course, workmen’s cabin, generator, welding equipment, gas bottles etc. It seems we had just managed to get through this lock before a stoppage. On the roads you get contra-flows, diversions and perhaps a few hours delay. On the canals you get no-flows, no alternative route, and days or even weeks of delay so we felt lucky.

Our luck didn’t hold though. In the morning we started the engine at about 10.30 to move on, but when Alex went into the engine room to do his usual checks, there was a considerable amount of water in the engine bilge area. There shouldn’t be!

Having sucked it all out (about 4 gallons) with the aqua vac, we tried to see where it had come from: maybe the stern gland area – if the retaining baffle was leaking, or maybe where the cooling pipes go through the hull? It is always difficult to pinpoint these things, especially as the retained water first seeps into everything and then slowly seeps out again giving false sources.

The quick setting cement we always carry didn’t set at all round the pipes when we applied it (had it too long maybe), so we set off in search of a builders’ merchants. After asking twice and cycling 4 kms we did actually find one which had the essential ‘snel cement’ – sets in 2 minutes!

Although we were in a hurry to get back there was still time to pop into the next door Lidl for more gin. They sell spirits in supermarkets in Belgium whereas in Holland you have to get it from an off licence, though this is usually thoughtfully situated next door to the supermarket!

When we got back to Riccall we were relieved to find there was no extra water in the bilge anywhere but we put the new cement in round the pipes anyway.

We are currently assessing the situation, but it is uncomfortable wondering where we may have a leak, and if it may mean a dry-docking, investigation and perhaps welding. Ughhh.

In the morning all seemed dry so we set off onto the Bocholt-Herentals Canal. This had long boring straights but that tedium was offset by the glorious autumnal colours of the trees, and the regular appearance of WW II pill-boxes protecting the canal against Nazi invasion!

We scraped along the bottom at one point trying to get over far enough for a laden barge coming the other way (he didn’t even acknowledge us) then down through three locks to our night’s mooring.

At the first of these locks the friendly keeper let us in, then set the lock operation for ‘auto’ and went back to his tidying at the parallel redundant lock. The lock emptied but the gates didn’t open, so we waited and waited and Alex tooted the horn and tried the VHF channel all to no avail. Eventually, we sidled Riccall up to one of the lock ladders and Alex climbed up 4½ metres to find the keeper. ‘Oh, I thought I had set it on fully automatic – sorry – I will open the gates’!

The next two locks went without incident and just after the last one we moored up at the side of the now very wide canal on good bollards, only a bit too far apart.

We reckoned that being close to the lock the big boys would be going fairly slowly so not too disturbing. Wrong! The first one came up the canal like a bat out of hell and then slowed at the last minute for the lock. His wake followed after him and slapped us about quite badly for about 10 minutes. “Save the photo frames, Louise”! To be fair though, most of the rest did show more consideration and the lock closed at 9 pm so after that all was quiet.

The next morning, we turned onto the Dessel-Turnhout-Schoten Kanaal with the aim of mooring at Turnout for the night. This canal is very narrow in European terms and when the first unladen barge loomed up, coming towards us, named ‘Robert’! we really wondered how we were going to get past (not to mention how they passed each other) but we slowed down and got right over, and he powered past with a couple of feet to spare, ignoring us totally, and we rode over his wash like being back in the North Sea!

And then there was one in front going very slowly, and two coming the other way, so we stopped at a wide section to let them sort themselves out and get past. Unfortunately, we picked up something on the prop and no matter how much forward/reverse power we applied, we just couldn’t shift it.

So we laboured up to a wider section and tried to moor, but it was too shallow. We sat on the mud mostly off line, with a couple of ropes on, and Alex climbed down the rungs at the back to see what was there. But even tied on with bits of rope he couldn’t get enough purchase to get the offending ‘something’ off the prop. A local said there was a boatyard a bit further up the canal, so we set off again.

The ‘thing’ seemed to be getting more and more tangled round the propeller until eventually we were doing only 2kph for 800 rpm (which should give us about 7 kph). Something was clearly very wrong. We then saw a pair of low open floodgates ahead, whose supporting concrete bases stuck out into the canal, leaving a gap of about 8 metres in the middle for boats to pass through. The side pieces, sticking out from the bank by 4 metres or so, gave us something to reverse Riccall up to so we could access the back end.

This we eventually achieved by tying Riccall in place on broken bits of concrete and suchlike. While Louise went off to try and get help, Alex started to attack the triffid on the prop with the boat hook. Bit by bit, strand by strand, he managed to remove a barrowload of string which had wound itself round the prop. And suddenly the prop was free! Then a quick phone call to retrieve Louise who had by this time cycled 3 kms and found the library where 3 kind ladies were beginning to look up boatyards and engineers on the internet. Once Louise was back at the boat we saw a big barge heading our way and made a quick getaway before he reached our very inadequate moorings and slammed us backwards into the concrete.

We were pretty tired by all this so decided to stop at the first place possible. This was a haven in a wide ‘bay’ which was full, but just beyond were a couple of other big boats at the canalside and a GAP big enough for us. We asked if we could moor for one night and thus we met another lovely couple, Anya and Jeroen, and their delightful daughters, Marijne and Janne. They live on their 38m x 5m spitz in the beautiful original living quarters, and are gradually turning the rest into similarly lovely accommodation.

There was no water or electricity but it was miles from anywhere and free, and Jeroen very kindly let us plug into his generator which he ran for about 2 hours a day, so that just kept our batteries up.

We shared drinks and chat and ideas for several days, and visited nearby Turnhout, before regretfully we had to move on towards our final destination – Ghent, but we have decided Brussels is out of the picture now.

The real downer in all this is that somehow we have managed to lose our taft rail ensign. We took it out at one point as Alex climbed back and forth over the back rail then we know we put it back into its holder. But when we finally got moored up it wasn’t to be seen. We have ridden right down to the flood lock gates and way beyond hoping to spot it floating in the water; but no mobile phone story this time!

Alex has created a new makeshift flagpole and we have attached our spare, faded, tattered old flag to it. Oh dear, oh dear! Not really flying the flag at all!