Charleroi to Boom

So, Monday morning dawned bright and clear at Vankerkoven, but there was no sign of Sandrine Vankerkoven, nor of her brother Vincent, so nobody who spoke any English to help us understand the Eastern-European French that was being spouted by the Chef du Port, Osman.

However, it appeared we were to be side-slipped onto the dock area after lunch.  Osman wasn’t interested in the fact that we have a small keel running the whole length of the boat, but he did take account of the keel cooling pipes and marked up the side of Riccall for two trolleys – one just behind the keel cooling pipes and the other 12m forward, just aft of the front bulkhead.  So that was OK and we came out with a bit of rocking from side to side, but apart from that, OK.  They then put some supports under us that could be jacked up in a crude way, but were unable to get enough lift to remove the trolleys (into which our small keel had formed a deep groove in the wood).

The following day, Riccall was jetwashed up to the waterline and late that evening at 11pm our surveyor Stefan Fritz arrived.  So after a quick drink and some scratch food, we said goodnight and went to bed worrying about the morning.

At first the survey seemed pretty good: decent thicknesses on the sides, along the waterline and round the turn of the bilge, then after lunch came the underside.  Exclamations of horror and regret

From under the boat followed one another with awful regularity.  It appeared that many of the rivets had ‘pulled through’ and would need welding - 100 in all - and although the general thickness was not too bad, there were several actual holes in the plates!  These holes would have occurred where deep pitting on the inside coincided with deep pitting on the outside.  The safest answer was to double plate the whole bottom!

(At this stage our surveyor said that an ultra high pressure washer was essential in order to take the hull back to rust-free steel to give a good base for the welding and an epoxy based paint job. Vincent was not prepared to consider hiring in such a machine, even at our cost.)

Now we knew we were going to be in trouble, because the yard would know that they had us in a cleft stick and could charge pretty much what they liked to do the job.  However! Riccall had been dragged out after an 80m barge which had to go back into the water within a few days and we were in the way.  So the yard decided that they would have to make us waterproof at least, put us back in the water, re-launch the 80m commercial then pull us out again for the remainder of the work.

So we let them do the minimum amount of work possible to make us watertight then told them that we simply couldn’t afford to have the whole job done at their quote of circa €25k: we would just leave it at that.  We had also in the meantime asked two other yards in Belgium for quotes to do the job and also to use an ultra high pressure jet wash on the hull.  One yard offered all this at about half Vanks’ quote so we planned to set off for them as soon as we were re-floated.

We had taken the opportunity during the weekend when nothing was happening in the yard to visit Namur by car as we had not had time to even stop when we passed it by boat.  It seemed like a clean pleasant place with good quays and a decent range of shops and it was nice to get away from the boatyard scene for a few hours.

On the other hand Charleroi, which Louise visited briefly while Alex returned to Toul for the car, was a dreadful place: dirty, run-down, graffiti everywhere, highly industrialised with filthy, noisy steelworks and recycling plants now that the coat mines have all closed.  Sightseeing tours include trips up some of the slag heaps, as being the best thing on offer!

In the meantime Sandrine and brother Vincent had made out a bill for what they had done so far.  The cost for the plating was not unreasonable (in their terms) but their original quote had included a paint job which we had later said would not be necessary.  They tried to reduce the overall price by just a paltry €250 for not having the paint applied, and at that point Alex drew the line.  So very reluctantly Vincent gave us another €250 off the bill, which still came to around €6,000.  But even at that, going to a different yard was going to be cost-effective.  

Having milked our bank accounts at hole-in-the-wall dispensers over two days, thus accumulating about half the bill in cash, we then did an internet transfer of the remainder from our French bank account, and Sandrine was satisfied that we could leave.

So, a two and a half day journey to Boom on the River Rupel near Antwerp, our next destination.  Regular checks for water ingress satisfied us that we weren’t actually going to sink and we arrived quite comfortably, passing through Brussels (forgettable from the water) on the way.  We used the Ronquières Inclined Plane on this journey, which was quite an experience, and we think because the Belgian commercial ships were on strike and moored up in every little nook and cranny, we had no opposition and no wait for the lift – it can take hours in a busy season.

Dave, the main man at Boom, who speaks perfect English, had understood exactly what we were looking for and had given us a very competitive quote.  This dock is a tidal one, and we had to ferry our way in against a pretty strong flow just before the top of the tide.  Once moored in position we watched Lechaim, a 105m barge which was also coming into the dock, trying to manoeuvre a small workboat into the dock.  This workboat had its ‘legs’ down too far to enable Lechaim to get it over the sill of the dock.  So Lechaim took it back to its mooring out on the river then came back in itself.  We spoke to Reyer, the captain, afterwards and expressed our amazement at how he had handled his 105m barge as a tug for the little workboat and he said that after a lifetime with boats it was just all in a day’s work!  But the tide was still running pretty strongly and even though he had a 180 degree bow thruster you would have thought he was just 20m like us and not a 105m leviathan.

The next day he and Corrie his wife invited us for what we assumed would be aperos at about 6.30-7pm but it actually turned out to be after-supper tea and cakes!  But what the hell, we were given a guided tour of one of these €4m commercial vessels.  The living quarters were immaculate with three double bedrooms, fully fitted bathroom, en suite and a large open plan dining/kitchen/living room.  The wheelhouse was just state of the art: the whole thing lifted about 5 metres on a hydraulic lift system and the top part of the wheel house could be lowered if necessary to get under low bridges with a roof hatch for the captain to stick his head out of pro-tem.  Up at the front was another set of living accommodation for the crew!

The main engine room had three engines in it – the power house, 1700bhp with triple turbos, the generator, 15kva and the hydraulics.  In the forward compartment were another three engines - 300 bhp for the bow thruster and two generators as back up for the rear ones.  At least I think that’s how it was set up: I definitely did see 6 engines in all!  They don’t bother with a big bank of domestic batteries: they just run the gennies all the time until they are hooked up to shore power.  In fact their Victron inverter was only rated at 1200kw.

Anyway, the reason they are in dry dock is for a survey because Reyer, at 70 years old, has decided it is time to retire and he is selling his barge.  The guy who is buying it is a 32 year old Frenchman and he is going to revamp the whole interior of the living accommodation!!

The other day was Bank Holiday in Belgium so we had a quiet day in the yard – quiet from the point of view of boatyard noise, but extremely busy as Alex used the lovely weather to fit the new solar panels to the wheelhouse roof.

Retrieving the car after each stage of the journey from Vankerkovens was interesting, if a perfect nuisance, but we felt it was important to have transport while in dry dock, and so it has turned out, enabling us to drive hither and thither for spare parts, new ropes, everyday shopping and the inevitable bank!

The new bottom is being installed as we write this, but not without a certain degree of angst/excitement and unexpected happenings!  More details to come in due course.

Winter-Spring update

We have all had a bit of a break over the winter from Riccall’s Ramblings – me from writing it and you from having to read it (or hitting the ‘delete’ button as might be your preference!).  But now the new season has started and if I leave it much longer I’ll never get started again (“Leave it longer” I hear you cry!) We have spent the winter driving back and forth from Toul to UK and visiting friends both in France and the UK.  We brought a van load of batteries (Wot, again?) for us and Peter and Nicci of AURIGNY and several other bits and pieces including a freezer and cooker for AURIGNY and three new PV panels for RICCALL.  Alex’s sister Julia kindly lent us her disability vehicle which is an ex-transport ambulance and even with all the stuff in it, it still had masses of room.

We had arranged to spend Xmas with Alex’s brother David and wife Bun in Somerset, then return directly from there to France for the New Year.  So, with the Clio fully laden we set off, visiting Will and Laura (Birmingham) Emily, Ric and Herbie (Bristol) on the way. The car had just been serviced before we set off but that did not prevent the clutch from failing in Bristol.  Amazingly we found a garage which would do the job on Saturday evening and Sunday morning – Xmas Eve!! – to allow us to continue to David and Bun’s.  A flat tyre discovered on Christmas Day was the icing on the cake!

Then, on our way to Dover to catch the ferry to France after Christmas, we had ‘the call’ from the care home to say that Louise’s Mum, Joan, was very poorly. So we turned left just after Stonehenge and arrived at the home five and a half hours later, just 5 minutes too late.  The carers at the home consoled Louise with the fact that nearly all their patients died either just before or just after the family were in attendance!  Joan’s death itself, though sad, was a great release for her (and for Louise herself) as she had become ‘lost’ to all intents and purposes some years ago.

Eventually we got back to RICCALL a couple of weeks later after the funeral etc and returned to the UK 2 weeks after that.  However, the Clio, which has been fantastically economical over the last couple of years, has decided to develop a whole series of electro-mechanical problems.  It got us down to Julia’s for Alex to fit a new utility room and to Mary and Martin’s for a break in Scotland, but thereafter was not going to be up to (or even ready for) our final trip to France.

So we went out and bought a Skoda Fabia 1.7DTi with only 23k on the clock which we hope will be a bit more reliable, if more expensive to run. Its first test from the north of England to Toul, then to the south of France and back to Toul, returned 50mpg overall at cruising speeds of up to 130 kph, so - could be worse.

We spent a few days doing last minute preparation on RICCALL then set off for Charleroi in Belgium where we have booked a dry-dock for insurance survey and blacking of hull etc as we periodically have to do:  the same procedure that we failed to achieve in Toulouse last year.

It is right at the very start of the season (a point made clearly by the weather – bright but with bitterly cold winds) so there are virtually no other boats about and mooring is dead easy: though the water and electricity often haven’t yet been turned on, but then nor have the mooring charges!

The first flight of 14 locks out of Toul are all linked so once started you have to do them all (or contact VNF to explain yourself). We didn’t get to the top until nearly 2pm and then the eclusier insisted we went through the Foug tunnel as well, before we stopped for lunch.  He didn’t want to hang about for us because afterwards he had to switch the tunnel lights off!

At some point we lost one of our ‘glissoire’ fender and despite walking all the way back through the 1km now-dark tunnel, failed to see it floating in the canal.  We knew of a local supplier but despite having given him a great deal of business during two winters, he was not prepared to deliver one 15kms to where we were moored.  Fortunately we caught up with AURIGNY at Commercy the next day and Peter offered to lend us a spare which he was not using himself.  We also had a great evening with them.

We spent the next night at St Mihiel and after that there is a series of 10 locks to Verdun (1 day) and 8 locks to Dun sur Meuse which are all manually operated, and we were accompanied by a roving lock keeper to help us through each one.  By the end of the second day we had got pretty friendly with ‘Lou’ our operator and gave him a bottle of wine when we made our farewells.

During the day, we had received a text from Mike and Sally of CHOUETTE to say that they were at Dun-sur-Meuse, there was room on the mooring for us, and would we like spag bol for supper?  Well, yes, thanks very much.  So another great evening.

The return match came the next evening when we moored alongside them at Alma, our absolute favourite mooring in this area.  And the next morning, as luck would have it, a paraglider took off from the opposite hillside and floated about in the upcurrents for an hour or so till we lost sight of him.  This was the very spot where we saw about half a dozen launching themselves from the same hillside nearly 4 years ago but in high summer that time. Great to see it again!

We had been contacted by Mary and Martin to ask if they could stay for a few days and so we were making plans to meet them at a convenient mooring.  This turned out to be Vireaux Wallerand where there was a good mooring spot and station, and where we were also joined by Chouette again.  Mary and Martin had left Scotland at 4am and arrived with us at four in the afternoon after a journey by car, by bus, by air, by bus again, by train, by bus yet again and finally by train again!!

Our first bit of interest the following day was the Ham tunnel, for which we’d been led to understand we would need to remove the roof.  But the moment we arrived the éclusier said, in a torrent of rapid French which brooked no argument, that he would lower the water level in the tunnel.

Fortunately Mary speaks fluent French, having lived in France as a child, so comprehension was not a problem: nor was the height of the tunnel or the depth beneath us (2m at least).  We stopped for the night in Givet and the following day entered Belgium and moored in Dinant.  The castle was well worth a visit and we had drinks and apéros in a pleasant café overlooking the river with even some sunshine to brighten the early evening.

A couple of days later and we turned off the Meuse and onto the Sambre.  The lady lockkeeper at the first lock gave us dire warnings about a strike ahead by some of the commercial batteliers and deliberate damage to locks, but assured us that the next two locks were OK.  So we were able to get to Aurelais to moor just above the lock and wave goodbye to Mary and Martin as they caught the train for Charleroi from the nearby station. 

It was lovely having them to stay (the longest of any guess so far) and they have even promised to return for another dose.  Great!

Later in the evening we were joined on the mooring by an 80m commercial which ‘parked’ just 2m from our stern.  Then later, another one moored in front of us.  Wow, we are back in commercial barge country now.

The next day the last lock before our destination was working fine and we got to the Vankerkoven boatyard just after they had all gone home for the weekend at 12.30 on Friday!  So we found ourselves a space near the narrowish entrance to the off-line port – a huge expanse of water some 100m x 100m – without blocking it, found a supply of power and settled down to wait till Monday.

Lyon to Toul

Finally the last Lyon blood test had been taken and things were still slowly moving in the right direction, so we started out from the Port de Confluence and onwards to the north.  We said our farewells to Christophe, the port Capitaine who had been so helpful and kind, waved goodbye to the navette Le Vaporetto (water bus) as it passed to pick up its passengers, waved to the builders of the new capitainerie whose next door neighbours we had been for so long (and who woke us every morning at 7am when they started work!) and sailed out onto the Saone.

At the first evening’s moorings at Trevoux, we noticed a sign saying ‘leave 40m clear for the trip boat’ due that very evening.  We were already moored quite close to the cruiser at the upstream end of the pontoon, and while we contemplated moving even further to give the required 40m, a Dutch barge moored up behind us.  We pointed out the notice and before we knew it they were up and off again.  The guy on the cruiser at the downstream end of the pontoon said he had asked at the tourist office if there really was a trip boat due.  The office had rung VNF and no there wasn’t.  Well, we were taking no chances, so Alex paced out exactly 40m behind us: if we moved up to within half a metre of the cruiser in front, there was exactly 40m behind us, so we did. And sure enough, right on schedule at 4pm a trip boat did turn up.  It was only about 28m long so it had plenty of room to moor, but that didn’t prevent the capitaine from looking like he was sucking a lemon.  (And the crew too for that matter.)  What the dear old biddies who streamed off the boat for their sightseeing thought of them I have no idea.  Service industry?  The customer is always right? Service with a smile? Ha!

On the way to the next mooring Louise rang Pascale, the proprietor of the Bateau Ecole who had befriended her in Lyon and offered help in moving RICCALL if such was needed (as he had a piloting licence to move barges up to very, very big ones!).  He had offered to move RICCALL to a winter mooring up river from Lyon should Alex require repatriation and therefore be unable to do it himself.  Very kind of him and a very nice man, so Louise rang to say we were on our way to the pontoon where he moored his little boat and was there room for us?  He rang back to say yes, he had been down to the mooring and arranged that a little sailing boat would move aside for us when we arrived and moor outside us.

Well!  When we arrived, there were already two 26m barges moored side by side and sure enough the sailing boat moved and we JUST fitted onto the end of the pontoon with the sailing boat outside us.  The other barges were HELENE owned by a German couple Jens and Anja with two children under 5, VROUWE ANTJE owned by John and Jane with one child under 3, and the sailing boat KNIGHT’S CROSS owned by Peter and Edith, an Australian couple with children of 3 and 5. We thought we must have arrived at a boaters’ crèche!

Pascal had clearly talked to Jens and Anja when he had dropped by the pontoon to make the arrangement for our arrival, because when he turned up to renew our acquaintance he also talked to them for some time about arranging for them to take their ICC and practical test for barges over 20m.  He joined us for tea later in the afternoon.

Anyway, they were all lovely people.  John and Jane came for an apero, then we went after supper to HELENE for the tail end of Jane’s birthday dinner party for puds and drinks.  The whole ensemble was there together – several of the children included!  A great night, and so kind of them to include us, hitherto unknowns.

The following day they all came for coffee on RICCALL and we must confess - trying to keep a watchful eye on 5 toddlers on a barge is a bit of a strain – to put it mildly!

We also had the evil eye from the self-appointed pontoon capitaine whose little cruiser was moored at the downstream end of the pontoon.  He took photos of our three barges and stalked off emphasising three barges on the pontoon, and that he was going to report us all to the bureau (whatever that was) but as we were leaving that day we weren’t overly worried, and in any case no-one turned up. (What a miserable bastard!  There he was with free mooring, water and electricity - just taking advantage, and he’d certainly been there more than 3 days!)  Mind you, the pontoon was a little over-full!!

There was plenty of room on the long pontoon at Macon our next stop, but the following day Tournus was packed, so initially a bit of concern till Louise spotted that there on the quay ahead was DANUM, a sister ship to RICCALL, albeit 8 years older.  So we moored alongside her with the belated permission of Robert and Jill Cowley who popped out from below to find out what was going on.  Mutual appreciation of each other’s boats followed.  Then tea on RICCALL and later drinks on DANUM.

As usual the contrast between how we all finish our boats is amazing. Robert and Jill had been lucky to buy a boat which had been cherished by its owners when in commercial operation so everything on it was original and thus they have kept it as close to that as possible, rather like a museum piece inside and out, but in the nicest possible way, whereas we had nothing left of the origins of RICCALL, just a big open hold with wrecked forecabin and nothing aft.  So we had had a clean slate to work with.

A couple of days later we moored up at Seurre where we had sussed in advance that Alex could have his next blood test.  That went well and we had an interesting exit from the quay in reverse with a strong wind assisting our about-turn among the finger pontoons.  What!  We missed by miles!  At least 2 feet.

At St Jean de Losne amazingly, we got a place on the town quay and snaffled the ONLY working power supply for the 2^nd night when the boat using it left.  To our surprise Don and Di of IBAIA dropped in for a good chat.  They were moored up at St Symphorien just a few kilometres away, and were on their way south by car, to Port Lalande on the River Lot to help with the grape harvest.  How brilliant!

Our next blood test was to be in Gray where mooring was available, even if we had to be 5 feet off the quay due to the 1 metre depth.  Both RICCALL and a 30m barge VIRUNGA were well aground in the morning as the river level dropped.

Alex managed to free RICCALL himself, but it took the combined power of 8 men from 2 hire boats, and a suggestion for mechanical leverage from Alex to free VIRUNGA.  We also met and had drinks with David and Lois of CHRISTINA-ROTTERDAM, a 30m converted Dutch luxemotor, and admired each other’s fit-outs. Reluctantly we had to forgo the invitation to a Greek evening as we felt bound to move on.

We got Alex’s blood test result (a bit higher than the last one) by 12pm but had to wait till 2pm for the pharmacy to open, as we realised we were short of some of his medication and would run out before we got to Epinal.  As it turned out, because it was a week before the end of the month, the pharmacist wouldn’t give us what we needed anyway.

When we arrived at Soing, one of our absolutely favourite moorings on the river, there was a hire boat on the pontoon – damn!  But it was a Swiss family who had come through a lock with us and had been very interested in RICCALL and our lives aboard, and when we arrived they said they had been wondering when to leave and we had made up their mind for them – now!!  So they assisted our mooring and then departed, leaving us on our pontoon in solitude.

A couple of days later and we got to Corre.  There is a low bridge here and as the day was fine we decided to go through immediately in case it was raining the next day and we had to remove the roof.  As it turned out we got through with 3 inches to spare but we had forgotten that the Canal des Vosges has no lock moorings, so above the first lock we had to tie to trees and a wobbly post, and hang the back end of RICCALL out by 10 feet to keep out of the shallows.

We had better luck at Fontenoy, where to our amazement the quay was almost empty and though €14 a night was a bit steep, at least we had electricity and water included.  The town though appears to be on its last legs with most of the shops closed down and for sale or to let, or just falling to rack and ruin.  However, in the midst of it all was a bright looking well-stocked pharmacy whose pharmacist was quite happy to provide the next month’s medication, where Gray pharmacy had not been, so that was an unexpected bonus.

As we continued on up the locks of the Vosges towards the summit we saw very few other boats indeed.  We arrived above Lock 14 Thiélouze and were able to moor on a couple of rings 40m apart.  Alex had suddenly realised that it was Louise’s birthday the next day and, as usual, he was not prepared!  However, in the middle of the night he got up, made a birthday card and decorated the whole of the inside of the wheelhouse with the bunting.   Aaaaawwwww!

At the very long mooring quay at Girancourt, just before the summit, only two others were already moored there.  We tied up for the night and Alex cycled off to the local Intermarche fuel station (just 200m from the port) with a 20 litre container on our home-adapted trailer for some fuel.  We had calculated that we had just enough to get back to Toul before we ran out, but three trips to the garage would give us an extra 60 litres and just allow that element of comfort.

The weather had so far been lovely – wonderful, as Louise had been really looking forward to doing the Vosges Canal again, as it is in a fairly remote area and just so pretty – but now that we were close to the summit, the weather changed and the outlook was for wet, wet, wet!  And that’s what we got.  We had had one intimation of the approach of autumn in early October in just one single tree in its glorious colours and then nothing more – all other trees appeared to be staying green ad infinitum! But now things looked ready to change.

The next day we spent climbing the last lock up onto the summit level (whose level seemed pretty low, but VNF assured us there was plenty of depth for 1.4m) and then descending the 14 locks to the Epinal junction.  These locks are now all automatic and connected, so once you start you have to go all the way or get in touch with VNF and warn them that you want to stop en route.  We decided to do the lot, and by the time we had had one lock fail on us, we got to the junction for a very late lunch at 3pm.  We had also had an unexpected low bridge halfway down the flight which we’d not noted on our previous journey and we squeezed under with literally 20mm to spare.  Phew!

As we passed through the last two locks on the flight a family had been watching closely, the father explaining to the son the workings of the locks.  When we entered the last lock, he asked if it would be possible to come aboard for the ‘ride’ through the lock.  They were such a nice family, Janek and Alois, and we enjoyed chatting to them for the 10 minutes or so for the lock to empty and for us to moor up at the junction.

In the morning we set off on our bikes from our mooring at the junction to ride the 3kms into Epinal for the next blood test.  (The little canal into Epinal is said to be shallow and it wasn’t worth the risk of getting stuck.)  We found the Laboratoire Analyse Medicale, gave the blood, then had a few hours to kill in Epinal, A ‘formule’ lunch, a look round the ruined chateau, the cathedral et al, then pick up the result at 4pm and back to RICCALL. 

The batteries on RICCALL are getting worse and worse as time goes on so, nothing ventured, nothing gained, Alex went to the adjacent VNF office and said, “Watcha mate, me batteries is knackered.  Any chance of a plug-in?” but in French, and they said yes.  Result!!

We knew that the bridge at Thaon was a ROFF because we had marked it up in our book but we were caught out by the one before it at Chavelot.  We started to exit the lock and the height-marker flag pole at the bow told the story, so we backed back into the lock somewhat and to the amazement of a bystander quickly got the roof off.  At that point of course, the fine drizzle turned into a total downpour, so having exited under the little bridge we had to immediately replace the roof.  Then came the job of drying off everything which we hadn’t had time to protect in our haste to exit the lock before the gates closed on us (including Louise’s one and only birthday card).

At Thaon lock we had to repeat the whole performance again but this time there was a window of dry weather long enough to do it without getting soaked again (and of course, this time we were more prepared anyway).

And now of course, the advent of autumn is making itself felt.  The weather is truly autumnal – wet and windy and noticeably colder, and the trees in this area have got the message – time to start turning!

We stopped for lunch in the huge, new (but unfinished) mooring basin which was underway 2 years ago.  Obviously now the whole project has been abandoned – all the other proposed buildings and facilities are non-existent but the mooring itself is excellent – no services of course but good bollards on a purpose-built quay.  (And SuperU and Aldi within 200m which is handy!)  As the weather continued to be truly awful, we decided to stay the night in the hope that tomorrow would be better.

It wasn’t!!

But obviously we needed to keep moving.  All this rain has meant that the water level in the canal is higher than it was when we last did it coming south in the summer of 2010, so we have kept coming across unexpected ROFFs!  They are all now marked up in the book and we’ve got the ‘quick roof-down, roof-up’ technique down to a fine art.

We moored for the night at the junction of the Nancy ‘embranchement’ which is now open, the landslide which had kept it closed for years having been removed.   We had been warned by some Swiss hirers that the mooring for plaisance a short distance away was not only closed for the winter but mooring there at all was interdit!  Not sure why, but apparently we would be attacked by a mad old woman if we tried!

With some regret we decided not to do the embranchement to Nancy this time as the weather was decidedly iffy and so was Louise’s back.  Instead, we made a beeline for Toul and arrived mid-afternoon in a patch of sunshine.

The rain returned later and it hasn’t stopped since!!  But we are here now, and other than possibly having to change our mooring position when the port capitaine comes in tomorrow and determines where he wants us, we are well settled in our winter mooring, complete with water, electricity and wifi included.

Port 2, l’Ardoise to Lyon

So! Here at last is an update of the blog.  It has been a somewhat torrid time since our last post as will become apparent in the following.

We left Port 2, l’Ardoise nearly a week after Alex’s release from captivity to allow him to recover from his hospitalisation (appendix op) and set off north again up the Rhone.  At our first evening’s lock mooring we were joined by an Irish couple, Joe and Anne, of “ESS DEE AY” (don’t ask!) who breasted up with us. They insisted on drinks with us in the evening followed by a joint supper and more drinks.

Alex, not long out of hospital, felt it was all a bit too much but hey, ho, it was a jolly evening!  The next day we waited till the stiff wind abated a bit before setting off and had a short hop to Chateaufeuf Lock where we moored on the topside plaisance mooring behind two commercial peniche who were moored for the weekend on the ducs d’Albes just ahead.  They were all having fun swimming in the warm water and when it was clear we were having difficulty coming alongside the pontoon because of the offshore wind one of them took our rope and with some difficulty popped it round a cleat on the pontoon.

The next couple of nights were passed without incident though Alex was feeling noticeably more and more tired at the end of each day.

We had hoped to moor on a sand quay near St Vallier which had provided a perfect mooring for us on the way south 2 years ago, but as we neared it we saw that it was festooned with fishermen – so many that we felt daunted at the prospect of trying to moor there at all, so we carried on hoping for the ducs d’Albes round the corner.  We could see immediately that they’d be too far apart for us and at the same time we spied a new pontoon, installed since we came down, about 1km upstream and empty!  We made a bee-line for it and it was perfect: north end of St Vallier, next to a campsite and sturdy, with a “Welcome to Moor” sign!

We had decided to delay leaving the next day till after lunch for a short restful day’s cruising, but at about 12 o’clock we got a text from Ced and Suzie who were driving south on the motorway, asking us where we were.  We texted back to tell them to take the very next motorway exit and they would be with us in less than half an hour.  So we had a lovely lunch with them and after they had gone we decided to delay our departure till the next day instead!

Approaching the little port of Ampuis, just downstream of Lock Vaugris, we saw a jet-ski floating down the river with the two riders hanging on, swimming behind it.  We stopped and offered help.  They took our rope and we set off again slowly to take them back upstream to their launch site.

Just then however, a motor launch appeared creaming up river behind us.  Louise gesticulated to it and indicated the stricken jet-ski but to no avail.  They shot past us putting up a two foot high wake.  Riccall bounced all over the place: the jetski tipped onto its side dropping the guys back into the water and when we eventually got them sorted out again and Louise popped downstairs, she found the carpets in both bathrooms and dining area soaked by the wash coming in through the portholes.

You don’t usually get that sort of behaviour on the canals and rivers.  We never have before.  Our portholes are often open while we’re cruising in hot weather (though never in DOWN locks) as occasionally we’ve had a bit of water in through the portholes when descending old leaky locks but never like this.

When we got to the lock the launch was in front of us on the plaisance mooring but we had to moor too far behind for Alex to vent his spleen.   The boat was flying French, Spanish and Italian flags at the stern so that probably explains it!

The evening of the next day saw us on a good pontoon mooring at Chavanay.  Two small boats had vacated it just as we arrived.  Good timing we thought!

On the following afternoon we reached Vienne where again we had no problem mooring but there was no signal for our dongle for us to keep abreast of the debits (flow rates) on the Rhone ahead, so when we left the next day and almost immediately discovered a 3G signal, we were able to check the flow rate at Pierre-Benite Lock, Lyon.  It was just half the lowest rate it had been for the last two weeks, so we simply had to take advantage of it.  Pierre-Benite can be one of the most difficult locks to approach from the south because the flow rate can be incredibly high – too much for us – so this looked like a good sign!  Go for it!

We arrived on the town quay in Lyon at about 3.30pm having taken on fuel on the way up and Alex once again, exhausted, went to bed, and virtually stayed there most of the next day.

Monday dawned, and Alex had already decided that something, not just tiredness, must be wrong with him, possibly connected to the appendectomy.  So we contacted the new port in Lyon and asked if they had a space for us which mercifully they did.  We took the boat downstream the 2 kms to the port and booked in.  Christoph, the port Capitaine, was very helpful and spoke English.  He was able to explain how to get to the hospital.

At the hospital triage was held within 15 mins of arrival but 6 hours later the verdict was that Alex had to be admitted – he had acute kidney failure!

Eventually, after nearly 4 weeks in hospital, it was deemed OK for him to return to Riccall, provided we stayed in the port for another week to 10 days for further tests and an outpatient clinic.  During the 4 weeks of his stay Alex was greatly heartened by visits from Peter and Nicci of AURIGNY who came down by motor bike from St Symphorien where their boat was moored.  They had just returned from a 2 month visit to the UK where Peter had been co-opted back into his former police-escort role for the duration of the Olympic Games.  They brought with them their laptop so Alex was able to see their amazing slide show of Olympic scenes. 

The following week Ced and Suzie were passing in PEABODY on their way north and stayed in the port for a couple of nights so were able to drop by to visit Alex, as were our narrowboating friends Mike and Jean who were driving down through France on their way to the Med for a holiday.  Mike and Jean dropped by again on their way north after their holiday.  So all in all Alex did quite well for visitors, bearing in mind this all happened in France!

At first Alex shared a two-bedded ward, but the other two patients who each came and went after a few days, don’t bear mentioning, so awful were they, but then Alex was moved to a single bed ward for the rest of his stay and that was just great.

But now, the blood tests have been done, the out-patient clinic attended and now we have been given the green light to sail once more.  Medications and tests must continue and be monitored to make sure things continue to improve but hopefully in a few months Alex may be fully back to normal.

Meanwhile, Louise has been doing a sterling job, keeping Riccall ticking over, visiting Alex twice a day in hospital and getting to know the environs of Lyon.

The transport system in this city is one of the most comprehensive and best we have ever encountered.  We can buy a week’s unlimited travel on all modes of transport – trams, underground, overground, buses, funiculars - all for €16.60.  Some of the trams and trains run every 2 minutes!  Amazing!  10 minutes is the longest we have waited for anything, anywhere, so far and we have been everywhere – to the furthest ends of each track of course, whether tram or underground, and on trolley buses and the river navette too.  All are clean, quiet and comfortable, even the buses.

The other spur for at last putting pen to paper for this blog is that Alex has had his first alcoholic drink in 7 weeks tonight – not much, but just enough the loosen the scribe in him!!

Aigues-Mortes to Port 2, l’Ardoise

We set off the following morning towards St Gilles.  At the junction with the bypass canal Louise suddenly spotted a commercial approaching from our left.  Oh Hell, brakes on, come to an almost-halt and let it proceed in front of us – at 5kmh.

Oh well, we are rarely in a hurry, but after a while a small hire boat came up behind us.  We motioned it to overtake us and indicated that they could overtake the commercial even if we couldn’t.  They passed us, then proceeded to sit between us and the commercial going even slower than the big boy!  What is going on?  A couple of hours later we were at Gallician passing a rather smart looking motor yacht when we spotted a vacant hotel boat mooring.  We jammed on the brakes to stop for lunch and the lady from the yacht WARRIOR kindly came along to take our ropes.  We learned that WARRIOR was built 100 years ago in 1912 and had been one of the ‘Little Ships’ to help evacuate Dunkirk.  Alex had a chat with David and Fiona who explained that they had bought the boat about 18 months before as a sunken wreck and hard worked night and day to refit her.  They were on their way to Spain, but had cooling problems on one of the twin engines so needed a lift-out, but what a beautiful looking boat!

By the time we set off again the commercial was well away and we got to St Gilles lock in good time.

We told the eclusier that we hoped to moor about 2k upstream of the Petit Rhone at the tiny mooring we had used on the way down, and that if it wasn’t vacant he would see us again shortly!  He seemed quite happy with that.

It was empty so we gratefully moored up and noticed that the entirely decrepit wooden steps which we had climbed gingerly 2 years ago had been replaced with a brand new set of steel steps.

The next day we had a leisurely breakfast on deck in beautiful balmy weather and were interested to see a helicopter flying pretty low over us.  The helicopter was so close that that we could see the pilot.  We waved enthusiastically and he waved to us and did the helicopter equivalent of dipping his wings in greeting!  (He turned briefly right then briefly left to give the impression of a gesture.)  Our next short cruise got us to a similar tiny mooring under the Fourques suspension bridge near Arles (which by some miracle was also vacant).  AURIGNY had moored here 2 years ago and recommended it, apart from the clunk, clunk, clunk of the bridge overhead.  And by jove, was he right!!

It took a bit of work with extra ropes to shore before we felt we were moored well enough, then we man and woman-handled the bikes off the boat, but as it had to be from near the front to reach onto the pontoon it was no easy task, and cycled into Arles.

We had missed Arles on the way down the Rhone 2 years ago, and didn’t at that stage realise what we were missing.  We had since learned that Arles, of course, has an amphitheatre that is rated one of the top 20 in Europe so we were keen to see it.  It did not disappoint!  The French have done quite a lot of refurbishment here, but we thought it was justified and well worth it.  There is a great deal of ancient building still in existence in the old quarter of Arles and well worth a wander through on our trusty bikes.  We got back to the boat at about 5pm. And the main downside of this mooring became truly apparent at rush hour!  The noise from the bridge as cars went over the separate plates that make up the road surface was a bit like a train going over joints in the rails but 10 times worse.

We were glad to be moving on the next day, but also amazed that overnight the river level had dropped by at least 2ft (60cms).

We decided to give Avignon a miss and instead moored on the plaisance pontoon at Avignon écluse.

In the morning it was very windy and Alex woke with a slight queasiness in his stomach.  He put it down to anxiety due to the strong winds we would have to put up with on the Rhone – 40kph gusting to 60kph.

And indeed it was pretty bad.  The north wind was whipping up small waves of about 30cm which were crashing into our bluff bow and the spray was being carried the length of the boat.  As we hit each wavelet, the boat slowed momentarily making us move forward in a series of jerks.

Eventually, after a couple of hours of this we made a joint decision to put into Port 2 at l’Ardoise if there was room.  A quick call to Ariane and yes, the visitor quay was empty and we were welcome.

An hour later we were moored up in the same place as we had been on the way south in this pleasant sheltered port away from the bustle of the Rhone itself but with a few dumb barges being loaded up with gravel ever day to give some interest.

Alex:-

I woke up on the Sunday morning and I felt as though I had enough wind in my stomach to fill a hot air balloon!  Louise offered to massage my tummy to see if it could be moved on – and out.   After a few minutes her gentle massage moved to my right side and I nearly jumped off the bed.  Youch!  So now we started to worry as we both realised these were the text-book symptoms of appendicitis.  Louise talked to Ariane the port Capitaine and together they decided to call an ambulance.  I gave it about 15 minutes and then started to slowly dress.  Ariane appeared on the walkway beside the boat as I lowered myself down gingerly.  She looked aghast as ambulances are, we discovered later, for those unable to walk.  She had thought I was totally incapacitated and the ambulance crew were going to carry me the 50 metres along the walkway and 15m up the steps to the car park.  That would have been very difficult and I could still walk, so very carefully I made my way to the car park under my own steam.

Meanwhile, Louise was collecting together everything I might need in hospital – just in case.  The ambulance arrived and put me into the back on a stretcher and off we went

Frankly the journey to the ‘Urgences’ department (our A & E) going over all the bumps and speed humps was far worse than getting off the boat and up to the car park!

We arrived at ‘Urgences’, I was signed in and we settled down for the inevitable wait.  A couple of hours later (no triage in this French hospital) I was wheeled into a treatment room and bloods were taken.  An hour later (after the result of the blood tests) I was wheeled off to the CRT scanner.  An hour later the on-call surgeon came to see me to tell me he would operate shortly.  I said, “But it is Sunday and your day off: don’t you want to wait till tomorrow?”  He said, “But it is my job and I have one other operation to do first, more serious than you.  Do you want to die?”  We all laughed and I said No I didn’t.

A bit later the Chef de Service (whatever that is) popped his head round the door.  He was on his mobile in the middle of a conversation and without a pause in what he was saying and with his free hand, he prodded my stomach: I yelped: he walked out!  What sort of diagnosis was that?

In due course, I was taken up to the ward, had a disinfectant shower and donned the universal hospital shift.  By this time it was about 7pm and I told Louise to go back to the boat by taxi: there was no point in her waiting around for hours, and I would text her when I could, or she could ring in later to see how I was doing.

Then I was wheeled up to the operating theatre on a gurney. 

After getting all their gear together the anaesthetist said, “Right we are ready to go.”  I said, “Just a minute: I am not asleep yet!”  He just laughed and said, “Don’t worry: we don’t usually start the operation until after we have put the patient to sleep!”  After about 10 minutes the surgeon reappeared and they put me under.

I came to in my 3-bedded ward a couple of hours later and sent a text to Louise to say I was back in the land of the living.  I had a morphine and a saline drip and things were not too bad.

Breakfast the following morning was apple puree (yuk) and/or natural yoghurt (even more yuk!)  I couldn’t face either.  Lunch was the same with the added delight of a bouillon soup, what I guess would have been called beef tea once upon a time, but in this case it tasted like as I magine dish-water would taste!  Supper the same, and breakfast, lunch and supper on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.  Thus I wasn’t eating much! 

The climb down on Monday when they stopped the morphine was awful.  I was hallucinating for two days with nausea thrown in at intervals.  Every time I closed my eyes I had images of a different room floating around with brightly coloured beasts and such like inhabiting it.  And when my eyes were open the edges of all the door frames and tables had little waving hairs all over them.  And when I was staggering to the loo in the semi-dark I kept having to wade through non-existent furniture made out of knitted string or wire!

By Tuesday my guts were beginning to produce wind which cheered the nurses and doctors up a bit but in the early hours of Thursday morning I stopped passing the wind but was still madly producing it.  I called the nurse who set up a paracetamol drip and said that was the best they could do for me.  Meanwhile my gut was expanding by the minute and I had visions of myself exploding all over the ward like something out of Monty Python!

I sent a desperate text to Alice asking for advice.  No immediate reply.  Unfortunately, after a double shift at work (no doubt anaesthetising other unfortunates) she was completely zonked out and eventually replied to me at about 9am in the morning, but nevertheless a most informative reply.

Then half an hour later a different nurse appeared to remove the empty sachet of paracetamol and feeling my swollen tummy announced, “C’est normale.  Pas de problem”.  Well, why didn’t they say that before?  Then things started to move again later in the morning.  Trouble is when you don’t speak the language very well and you don’t understand what is going on you do tend to panic.  Well, I do anyway!  And Louise couldn’t be with me 24 hours a day to help with all this.

So the surgeon said on his round later, “You don’t seem to be eating very much” and I replied that I hadn’t been offered anything very tempting!  He gave a sympathetic look and said that I could have something better that night.  This turned out to be the usual yoghurt and apple puree (believe it or not) but with a starter of noodle soup (at least it had no taste) then Lo and Behold! creamed potato with a slice of excellent ham.  Food, glorious food!

A good last night, a proper French breakfast then my release papers, my get-out-of-jail card.

Meanwhile during all this Louise had been out hiring cars, keeping Riccall going, and most important of all, sitting with me for hours keeping me company, maintaining my spirits and lending a sympathetic ear to all my moans – a tour de force!

So endeth my first introduction to the French health system.”

Now Alex is out, and we have been to the chemist to pick up 8 syringes of anti-coagulant which has to have to have, one a day for 8 days.  We mis-interpreted the prescription for the anticoagulant thinking that we had to attend a pharmacy where the pharmacist would be doing the injections each day, so we had booked the car for an extra week in order to be able to get to the nearest pharmacy.  Of course as soon as we got there the pharmacist handed over the syringes explaining we had to do it ourselves!  I believe the current expression is OMG!!!

We decided to keep the car anyway for a few days and use it to visit some of the historic sights and sites nearby.  First off was the Pont du Gard (a Roman aqueduct) which entirely lived up to expectations.  The second was the Théatre Antique at Orange which we felt price-wise was a bit of a rip-off.  We decided not to pay the €8.50 each but instead climbed the rough path at the back of the site, at the top of which was a perfect view of the whole thing. (Louise – and this just two days after getting out of hospital! Well you all know Alex!)

In some ways Alex felt it was less impressive than the one at Vienne and certainly not a patch on the Amphitheatre at Arles.

One of the other missions, while having the car, has been to buy a replacement camera as the 2-year-old one from Aldi has finally stopped working altogether.  One year of its guarantee still to run, but no way of sending it off AND getting it back while we are on the move.  You’ll be pleased to hear that the old one finally died just before Alex went into hospital, so no dreaded snaps of him suffering in his hospital bed!

Fortunately Carrefour had a Nikon L25 10.1 m.pixels for a very reasonable €69, which we bought, and we hope the pictures turn out to be as good or better than those hitherto.

So all-in-all a pretty exciting first 50kms of the Rhone – but not for the reasons we had expected!

Agde to Aigues-Mortes

We decided to spend another few nights at Agde above the round lock on the river.  We cycled off to see how Ced and Suzie were getting on but they were obviously up to their eyes with work so we didn’t stay long.  The survey had been good so they were preparing to de-rust where necessary and repaint.  They mentioned that they had seen Phoenician go past downstream so we popped down to their mooring to say hello to them.  Poor Peter and Marie-Michelle!  They had managed to get into dry dock on the Robine (we had passed them as we came up from Sallèles d’Aude and they were heading down towards it) and while there had swapped the bent 5-blade prop for the spare 4-bladed one.  But then, within a week they had managed to bend a blade on the 4-blade prop as well, so they were in Agde hoping to lift the rear end out of the water at Allemand’s boatyard and try to straighten it.

We had a drink with them, then moules frites (again) for lunch and cycled down to the beach for a bit of people-watching.

In the evening Brian (Wall) came for supper and to stay the night, having just dropped his wife Gill off at Montpellier airport.  Brian left in the morning and after a few minutes so did we, to cross the Etang du Thau.  It takes quite a time though to get through the lock and canal system before you get to the Etang itself, about 90 minutes or so, so as we approached the last bridge on the canal Alex was surprised to spot Brian and another man standing beside the canal on the old bridge pier.  As we approached Louise went out to say hello???  “Left my phone”, said Brian, so Louise dashed back into the wheelhouse, spotted it on the worktop, rushed back out and just managed to hand it to him as we sailed past!  We don’t know yet how long he had been waiting there for us!

The crossing went without a hitch and there seemed to be just about one or two other boats on the whole étang.

We found a good mooring in Frontignan, but it proved to be rather smelly (no doubt why that position was empty!) as it was right beside a sewage outlet – so when the boat in front moved on we moved into his slot – much sweeter.

We cycled into Sete to suss out the dry dock which we knew was there – still trying to find a suitable yard for our survey.  It had a lift machine mechanism, very much like the one that had lifted PEABODY but bigger and capable of 200 ton lifts.  The trouble was that it was much more expensive and any work would have had to be organised by us using outside contractors.  Additionally, there was no English spoken at all and although we can manage OK with our rocky French in normal circumstances, for technical stuff we don’t have sufficient vocabulary.  We felt it was all too difficult to consider, but it had been good to get a look at Sète’s harbours and some of the old town.

On the way back we stopped for some milk and groceries at an épicerie and noticed a shoe shop was starting its sale the very next day.  Now Louise isn’t devoted to shoes unlike some women, as her friends can attest, but shoes were urgently required for a special occasion so, after we had taken Riccall through the lift bridge the next day at 8.30, we moored on the other side of it and jumped on the bikes and cycled the 8 kms back to the shoe shop in Sete!  Sad to say there was nothing suitable, so we cycled back to the boat – just the 8kms again!

Next day we set off for either Maguellone or Palavas.  Well, Maguellone had plenty of space so we moored there and in the afternoon cycled on to Palavas (where there was no space, so a good call).  We had enjoyed our stay at Palavas nearly two years ago as we came in the other direction so we had been looking forward to a repeat.  No such luck though, as after that first lovely afternoon the weather turned and for the next couple of days there was a sort of sea ha, sea fret, or low cloud, whatever you like to call it, which enveloped everything in a rather unpleasant stickiness.  We set off in this nasty weather for Aigues-Mortes where a friend of friends, Roger, on his boat ARGONAUTE had arranged a mooring for us.  He had said, “Two boats beyond mine is an old dilapidated jetty which will be OK for you for a couple of days, until we leave on our boat, and you can move into our spot.”

Well!  When we arrived it was indeed a dilapidated jetty which was about 3 metres too short for Riccall.  So Roger frantically moved a small, semi-abandoned day boat alongside another similar boat in front and we JUST managed to squeeze in.  We had to knock in pins to secure to, the stern was 3 metres from the shore and the only way off the boat was to climb down the front using the portholes and rubbing strake!  Not very satisfactory and of course no services.

However, Alex explained to Roger that his pregnant daughter Alice was visiting a couple of days later on the Tuesday, and would it be OK to move to the inside of ARGONAUTE that day, so that she could get on board?  It would also be easier for Roger to sail away two days later if we did the move then.  This we did and on the Tuesday Alice and Mark arrived and we had a jolly evening and supper.  Next day we all went for a walk round the walled town in the morning before they left at lunchtime to return their hire car to Avignon SNCF station and catch their train back north.  Still it was lovely to see them, if only briefly, and we would see them again at the wedding in a few days’ time.

That left us with one day to prepare for our own departure for England and to trawl the local market for previously-mentioned vital pair of shoes - and hurrah! – there they were.  Roger kindly ordered us a taxi for the next day to the airport at Montpellier for our flight back for Alex’s son William’s wedding to Laura.

It all went like clockwork (despite the plane leaving late) and we got the bus from Leeds/Bradford airport to Harrogate, picked up the car in Knaresborough where our trusty mechanic Matt had left it, then drove home to Newton Aycliffe.  Up to Chillingham Castle on Friday, wedding in the clouds on Saturday, Holy Island for a picnic with David, Bun, Ric, Emily and Herbie on Sunday, then back to N A for supper with Jamie and Janine!!  Phew!

We arrived at the gates of Chillingham Castle and drove down the rough drive until we arrived at what was obviously the back of the castle.  It looked totally deserted and as though it had long since been abandoned!  So we drove back to the entrance gates and Alex tried to telephone all his children, all of whose phones were on answer.  He then telephoned the castle office, which of course was closed because it was after 5pm.  Maybe there’s another entrance, we thought.  We drove round the wall, and did indeed find another entrance which brought us back to the same place as before, but this time Alex noticed a little courtyard with cars in it.  Sitting in the car wondering what to do next, we saw Will’s face at one of the windows and yes, we must have arrived!  We then discovered that the reason that none of the mobiles was answering was that the castle itself was in a complete signal black-spot but the signal re-appeared at the gate!!

Sure enough, our room was in the guard-house, which although a bit musty, in true castle style, was fine for us.  Unfortunately we had forgotten it was a self-catering apartment, so had to nip off rather sharply into Wooler to buy in supplies!  Family supper at the local hostelry was very good and the following day we were able to explore the castle, the museum, the dungeons and the gardens, all regrettably rather shrouded in low cloud. (It was sunny in Alnwick not 10 miles away too!).  The wedding itself was lovely, the cloud lifted for aperitifs and photos in the garden, and the medieval banquet which followed was just splendidly meaty!    (Unfortunately our camera totally messed up and is now caput, so we are waiting for wedding photos from the official photograher - watch this space!)

During the next few days both Alex and Louise had to fit in trips to dentists, talks with financial advisors, prescription collections, doctors etc etc, then it was the journey in reverse.  But in the meantime Alex had developed food poisoning or a virus and was having to fit in multiple trips to the loo as well as all the other appointments!  The night before the flight drastic measures were called for - bring on the Immodium - which worked for the next day’s flight and beyond.

We got back to Riccall at Aigues-Mortes to find that Roger and Anne-Marie on ARGONAUTE had left, but the next day they rang to say they had just done a quick trip to Agde and would be returning to the mooring.  By this time the water level had dropped to the extent that we were firmly aground (and over the next few days the level dropped even further so that the starboard side of Ricccall was eventually sitting out 12" above her water line).  This is a lot, and it made it pretty uncomfortable aboard with all the floors sloping so much and the bedroom drawers sliding out, but we knew it was not for long as both ARGONAUTE and then RICCALL would be setting off up the Rhone in a day or two.  And the important thing was that now that ARGONAUTE was coming back for a few days she could pull us off the mud when she left.

It took a bit of doing but eventually we were off the mud and on an even keel as we said goodbye to Roger and Anne-Marie and re-moored Riccall for our last night at Aigues-Mortes – well off the bank and with a rather precarious plank for getting on and off but only for one night.

Homps to Agde

We left Homps and moored up at Ventenac, a lovely mooring quay with Cave directly accessible!  Shortly afterwards an interesting barge called PISGAH went past and we hailed the owner, who came for an apéro later in the evening.  Jules Whitaker’s father had owned BEECLIFFE, another Sheffield barge which had been in France some 20 years ago, and a photograph of it is in our copy of David Edwards-May’s book ‘Barging in France’.  We have often wondered about BEECLIFFE and suddenly the son of the owner was having drinks with us.  What a treat!  He remembered the boat well and said that it was now back in the UK – renamed.  He also, true to his word, emailed later that night with details of a company which will deliver fuel to the canal side.

We had fun watching two hotel barges turning round just beyond the bridge in front of us and as the second one was doing his turn, a hire boat went through the bridge, not realising that he was going to be entirely in the way.  He then proceeded to fiddle about getting in the way even more, rather than just turning round and coming back through the bridge to wait for the peniche to finish his manoeuvre.

Oh and yes - we also managed to buy another 5 litres of red and rosé ‘en vrac’ at the nearby cave!

A couple of days later we were at Sallèles D’Aude on the Jonction Canal which links the Canal du Midi with the Canal de Robine and Port la Nouvelle on the Mediterranean coast.  Sadly, our draft is too deep to go beyond Sallèles d’Aude so we caught the bus to Narbonne and then the train out to Port la Nouvelle – a typical end of the world seaside port.  But the train journey is fascinating – through the very middle of the étang (seawater lake) much of the time alongside the canal.

The whole area is sometimes affected by the floodwaters of the Robine river, so there are levées and floodgates protecting the town and on one notable occasion the whole town was flooded to a considerable depth – witness the photo of the mark on the side of a house!

We had met Sandra and Graham Coates on a boat called HODI when they came up from Port La Nouvelle and moored next to us in Sallèles.  They had been moored up for 2 or 3 days at P la N and a péniche close to them had mysteriously ‘sunk’ overnight after the VNF had told it to move on!  When we got there, there it was, still sitting on the bottom!

We also popped into Sallèles town and managed to arrange for red and while diesel to be delivered via the local BP garage about 100 metres from the port.  Thanks to Peter and Nicci of AURIGNY for that tip. And we bought another 5 litres of red and rosé from the local cave!

At La Croisade we had promised ourselves a really nice meal in the restaurant close to the moorings, so when we arrived and all were full, we were at first disappointed and then determined that we would manage to moor, somehow.  So initially we tried to moor between a 15m cruiser with one Frenchman on board and COLIBRI the hotel barge with a whole host of guests on board.  This failed due to the wind and nobody to take a rope!  So we moved ahead of COLIBRI and a couple of kind Australian guests took our ropes and we managed to get moored up, but not very adequately as we realised the concrete structure sticking out from the bank was going to rub against our hull every time a boat went past, despite the usual measures – tyres etc. so we decided after much thought, and many passing boats that we would have to move – yet again.  Later in the evening COLIBRI had herself moved on, so with some difficulty and help from a hire-boater and a passing Frenchman we moved back past the little sail boat MARY LOU and into the spot where COLIBRI had been.  We chatted to the Frenchman and his wife, who pressed upon us their address and telephone number for when we are in Avignon, with strict instructions to call them and arrange a meeting!

We had an excellent supper in the restaurant that night and realised that one of the other guests was the newly-arrived owner of the MARY LOU, having supper with his two young children.

The next day it was time for us to leave.  The sail boat owner came over to us to say that he wanted to move his boat as he was aware he was moored in the ‘Passenger Boat’ moorings and asked were we leaving?  He had, however, just started breakfast, so we said we were going, but we would manage to get around MARY LOU OK.

Well!  We pushed the bows well out with the barge pole and started forward, expecting to be able to make a gentle move away from the shore.  But it was one of those occasions when things conspire against you.  In theory the wind should have helped us to get further out and the angle looked good but as soon as we started to move forwards the bows swung towards the sail boat.  Louise went to drop a fender between us and the sail boat but the owner said. “No!  She’s very delicate” and tried to push us away – all 75 tons!  Alex put the rudder hard over to keep the stern away from his boat, which largely succeeded in keeping us clear (despite putting the bows hard into the bank in front of him) but he was not a happy man and even said we had scuffed his paintwork which he had just spent €11,000 having re-done!  Alex apologised profusely and the boat owner rather surprisingly had the grace to admit that it was only a boat after all.  But it did leave a rather sour (if guilty) taste in the mouth.  We can only think that there must have been an underwater ridge which forced Riccall back into the side because the way the angles and wind were, there should have been no problem.  Our only other consolation is that MARY LOU was moored on the ‘Reservé pour Bateaux de Passagers’ section, and had been effectively abandoned there for some time!

We spent a night at the eastern end of the Malpas tunnel having unwittingly arrived at about 2pm when the tide of trip boats from Béziers was at its height!  Rather unnerving at the time, but the night was quiet and peaceful and we then set off with some misgivings for the Béziers flight (of 6 locks).  This went without trouble: the éclusier from hell (female) was not on duty – we rather hope she has been sacked since we passed through in September 2010 - we had plenty of help from the bystanders and we were descending, which is always much easier anyway.  So into the port of Béziers where we spent a few nights and ‘did’ the usual little tourist train round the town.

Béziers port is actually very big and rather pleasant, but when you have a good look at the signage, you realise that most of the perfect stone quay is now reserved for hotel barges or trip boats, or otherwise restricted.  There is barely any room at all for ‘normal’ boats and it’s certainly very poor for barges of our size: added to which, there are now no services at all, where once there had been both water and electricity.  All the bournes have been disconnected and probably later vandalised.

However, it was nice to meet Roger and Linda from a boat called GEEP which had fascinated us: a Dutch pilot boat built about 1920 with twin Gardner 8 cylinder engines.  What a boat!  Totally seaworthy with a top speed of about 13 knots.  We had them over for drinks (of course) and were offered the guided tour which we gladly accepted.  GEEP was up for sale and the prospective buyer was coming to view and the boat, which had been unoccupied for several weeks needed a full going-over, so we kept our visit short.  But it was fascinating.

At Villeneuve-les-Beziers we were staggered to see the change in what had been one of our favourite places.  Instead of the typical Canal du Midi tree-lined vista, all that’s left are sandy banks where the trees once were.  Yes, re-planting will begin next year, but the devastation is just terrible.

We came across IBAIA moored a little way along the left bank, just at the end of the moorings belonging to the campsite.  Don and Di had managed, with a very long lead, to get electricity.  We moored alongside them for a few minutes while we sussed out the scene.  They very kindly moved back a couple of metres and we slipped in in front.  Naturally they had drinks with us and we had drinks with them over the next couple of days and very convivial it was too.  We also managed to piggyback for electricity through their supply which was very helpful in our constant battle with the batteries.  But, and we have a question here!  Why is it that the disco at the campsite started at midnight and finished, eventually, at 5.30am!!!

We were also amused to see a very long bicycle cavalcade along the good towpath on the opposite side from us: it must have included the whole of the local junior school with 8-12 year olds on a variety of bikes, with the cycling teachers shepherding them all at intervals along the procession. 

At Vias - our next port of call - there was amazingly enough, a space for us near to the only working bourne for electricity, but only a few metres longer than our 19m  - always a cause for some consternation, at least on Louise’s part.  However, we nosed in and Louise started to prepare a rope from our middle bollard to the post on shore as the spacing was such that this would give us a nice controlled entry.  At this point, a man appeared from his boat SANITY at our rear end and kindly dropped the rope over the post for us.  So far so good.  BUT Geoff, as we later discovered he was called, then proceeded to give Alex instructions as to how he should go about mooring Riccall! at one point even with the words, “DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?” when Alex ignored him and did what he always does when mooring this way.  Just unbelievable, and he has just a little 12m cruiser too!  He must have thought we had just bought Riccall yesterday!  Alex doesn’t often get cross and shows it even less, but here was an occasion when if he hadn’t been busy getting moored up in a tight spot, he might have felt like resorting to violence!

However, that wasn’t our only problem at Vias.  We had picked up another unwanted something on the propeller at the previous lock and although it wasn’t affecting performance too much, it was clanking away as the propeller turned.  So once we had the mooring ropes on good and tight, it was out with the boarding plank and winch, to try and remove what turned out to be a length of electric cable and some fencing wire from the prop.  This time it only took an hour!

We also had a visit from Barry of BALESTRA who was moored at Vias also – just after the bridge before the port proper started. 

That first night being a Friday, we had rather expected some noise from the camp site alongside – perhaps a disco like at Villeneuve or here the last time we were at Vias in 2010, and we did get some noise but not what we expected.  All was quiet until about 2am when we were woken by the sound of much shouting and banging.  Eventually Alex went up to investigate (surreptitiously).  What he saw was a bare-chested man of about 35 kicking the hell out of a car parked outside the camp site.  At the same time he was shouting all sorts of obscenities and several ‘Ca va’s.  Alex watched for a while and the man eventually moved off down the road still yelling and hitting whatever happened to be within reach – rubbish bins, telephone kiosk!   This went on for a further hour then things calmed down.

We later learned that the man had had a bust-up with his wife and although the police had been called early on in the fracas, it had taken them an hour to arrive and take the chap away.

A couple of days later we set off again and moored on the Hérault river at Agde, just round the corner from the famous round lock.  We knew that Ced and Suzie in PEABODY were also in Agde but we weren’t quite sure just where.  Poor Ced: while single-handing PEABODY in rather windy conditions several days before, the boat had been caught by a gust of wind at one of the arched bridges and went off-line, causing the wheelhouse roof to hit the bridge and be all but removed.  By luck John and Linda of LIBERTY were in the vicinity and together with several other boaters, they had all managed to cobble the roof back into a reasonable position.  Now Ced and Suzie were at Allemand’s in Grau d’Agde about to have PEABIODY lifted out of the water and a complete new wheelhouse constructed.   We cycled down from our moorings and watched and took ropes where appropriate as PEABODY was lifted out and placed in the boatyard on suitable supports.  We offered them ‘respite’ after a very stressful day – a meal and overnight stay on RICCALL which we all enjoyed and they crept out at 7am ready for a day of jet washing the hull! 

They have been incredibly lucky to find a slot in this very capable boatyard for the work at such short notice, so are taking the opportunity to clean off the hull, have a survey and re-paint and can also leave the boat there while they return to UK for their planned month’s visit in July.  We considered trying for the same opportunity, as we still need our survey and hull re-paint, but although the lift is said to be able to handle 100 tons, we were more than a little doubtful that it could handle RICCALL, and anyway, with PEABODY there they would be hard pushed to fit us in as well!

We were just about to leave RICCALL on another sortie on our bikes when we saw a boat called SIRIUS passing.  We knew Walt and Gail of LES VIEUX PAPILLONS, our mooring neighbours at Buzet, were helping to bring SIRIUS down to the Midi from the north, so there was some frantic waving between us and we jumped on the bikes to catch up with them at the round lock.  Much chatting, photos, exchange of news etc. followed.  Good to see Walt and Gail again.

So now we have travelled 6kms up the river Hérault to a restaurant with mooring pontoon and electricity for just €6 per night.  We will stay here for a few days before setting off for the crossing of the Etang du Thau and our onward journey but one thing we have done while here is to cycle to the head of navigation where there are the remains of a Roman bridge and an old watermill.

Gardouch to Homps

At last the rain stopped and although there wasn’t much sun at least it was high, unthreatening cloud.  We left Gardouch for an uneventful trip to Port Lauragais.  We nosed into the basin which had been constructed at the same time as the A62 motorway, which runs alongside, and the Aire de Lauragais service area.  The facilities are shared by both boaters and drivers so it’s a busy place.

The gap between a cruiser and a couple of small breasted-up sailing dinghies was about 19m and we are a bit more when the rudder is included so as the wind blew us sideways toward the quay Louise shouted to a couple of lads working on the quay to ask if they would move the dinghies along a bit which they did, thank goodness! giving us just enough space to come alongside.

We cycled up to Ricquet’s Monument again, which is only about 5kms from this mooring, and this time Alex was determined to get inside the surrounding wall and gate.  The spikes on the top of the gate looked more daunting than last time but we did a tour of the perimeter wall and three quarters of the way round discovered a large subsidence crack in the wall where one or two stones had fallen out.  This was climbable, so a break-in by Alex was quickly achieved.  Louise passed the camera through the bars of the gate and sat down to act as lookout while Alex mounted the steps to the monument itself and get some pictures.  Amazingly no tourists came while he was ‘inside’ and we were able to saunter away looking pretty innocent of breaking and entering.

The next day was warm and sunny and we arrived at Castelnaudary, where we discovered Sally and Mike on AILSA, so we invited them for supper – another put-it-together meal, which went down pretty well.  Also in the port was a barge called SIRIUS, which we had not seen since ‘Nervous Nev’ owned her at Methley Bridge in Castleford.  It was now under new ownership.

The other good thing we found was that the lock automation had not got further than the lock before Lock 17 ‘Ocean’ – the last ‘uphill’ lock.

The method by which this automation works is different from any other elsewhere in France.  The system is that you put your crew member off at the lock mooring point (difficult for us because of our depth and height above the pontoon) and he/she goes to the lock and presses the appropriate button on a podium to set the lock the right way for the gates to open and allow the boat to enter.  This means that as the driver you have nobody on board to confirm that you are coming straight into the lock, neither to one side or the other, and that verbal confirmation is very useful.  Then the person on the side of the lock presses the start button and has to control their rope from the shore instead of from the boat. This may be OK for light hire boats but is more difficult, more dangerous, and more likely to snag when dealing with heavy boats like ours.

The automation in the rest of France always allows remote setting up for the lock and usually allows the start of the operation to be done from the boat as well.

So we are glad to be ahead of the installation of this new system in this more easterly area, even if some of the still-employed lock keepers on these ‘downhill’ locks are a bit surly!

We were approaching a double lock after Castelnaudary and some way off Alex decided we really needed to slow down a bit.  Putting the boat into reverse there was a screaming noise from the prop and we were not slowing down much at all.  Lots more throttle in reverse and more noises aft and eventually we did manage to come to a halt more or less, and then line up and enter the lock.  We got through the two locks OK but there was obviously something caught on the prop, so we stopped on the lock mooring and as we often do if we have a problem, had lunch.

After lunch Alex got the boathook and prodding about the prop felt something rather rubbery.  Oh no – a tyre!

So we got the boarding plank and suspended one end just above the water from the back of the boat with the other end on the shore.  With Alex lying flat out on it he could just get his hands down far enough to feel . . . yes, a tyre, well wrapped round the prop.

Alex got the chain winch and hung that from the back of the boat.  Then with Louise pulling on the tyre with the boathook he was able to slip the chain-hook round the tyre and hook it back onto itself.  Then we could operate the winch and get half a ton of tension on the tyre.  THEN Alex could start sawing!  He had to use a ‘hardpoint’ wood saw as we discovered that we don’t have a full-sized hacksaw (can’t believe it) but after much sweat, swearing and a final heave on the block and tackle the type came apart and off the prop.  All in all about 2 hours hard graft and Alex had to lie down on the mooring quay to recover.  He’s not as young as he once was!  By the way, it was an old Michelin X and still had some tread on it, so Louise gave it to the eclusier saying, “Un cadeau pour vous, Monsieur!!”

We were very glad to get to the peaceful mooring at Villepoint which we had noted in our book on the way west and it was thankfully empty.  (Six sturdy posts beside the canal.)  But the next day Alex felt bruised from head to toe after his tyre-ing time.

We stopped at Port de Bram and cycled to the nearby village to see if we could do a little shopping.  Riding right through the village on the main road we saw a rather appealing little café/restaurant offering lunch and decided to declare a holiday and treat ourselves!  The ‘formule’ menu of three courses was salad, moules frites and dessert, to include a quarter litre each of local wine for €12.50.  The patronne was quite happy to serve just the moules frites and wine plus coffee at the end and it was the best moules frites we’ve ever had.  Just enough for a light lunch and the total bill €19.  Marvellous.  We have rarely come upon this kind of offering that people talk so much about in France so it was lovely to have such a delicious lunch.

But when she came to lay the table the patronne put out paper table mats which had an aerial photograph of the village on them and we saw that the village was built in a perfect circle round its church.  We had just ridden a tangent on our bikes and completely missed Bram’s main claim to fame!

So after lunch we started at the church in the middle and rode three concentric ring round the village, each one a circular ring of houses bigger than the one before.  Fascinating.

When we got to Carcassonne at 3pm Stephanie the capitaine came running out to say the mooring below the lock which we had booked, had been taken by a couple of hire boats, despite her RESERVÉ signs, and we should moor temporarily on the trip boat mooring pontoon above the lock. So we did that and 45 minutes later we noticed the hire boat people coming back to their boats and making to set off.

Louise telephoned Stephanie just to let her know that we would be able to move onto the reserved mooring now. And then she was out of the office and running across to the hire boats like a gazelle.  The reserved sign was quite clear and she had put notices on both boats asking their crew to report to the office when they returned.  They were just trying to do a runner, but we learned afterwards that Stephanie had got to them in time and made them pay.  Good for her!

So we spent three nights on the mooring, met one set of the new owners of AMAROK, lent them a portable fridge because they had broken theirs defrosting it (don’t ask!), met the owners Peter and Marie-Michelle of a beautiful looking barge called PHOENICIAN and watched the antics of a tramp who has taken up residence during the day on the benches near the mooring.

And another excitement with divers!  Phoenician had picked up something on the prop which was causing vibration and poor performance.  Marie-Michelle, French Canadian so fluent in French, had chatted to one of the female lockkeepers a day or two before and had invited her and her partner (also employed by VNF) for supper on PHOENICIAN.    This turned out to be a good move because the boyfriend organised the Sapeurs Pompiers (firemen) to provide a diver to investigate their prop problem.

The diver duly arrived and came up after a fairly short time with some old bits of rag which were on the prop and part of the problem, but also with the bad news that one of the blades was bent out of line.  It’s a rather special 5-bladed prop which Peter had specially designed for his boat and as he is hoping to return up the Rhone this year, he will have to find a dry dock and get it sorted.

At Trèbes, where we spent a peaceful night just before the town, Alex managed to find the local wine cave and get some good red and rosé wine in his 5-litre containers from the pistolet supply at €1 and €1.15 per litre!

But when we arrived at the first set of locks in the morning (a triple) there was quite a queue.  We were 5th in line, behind 4 hire boats.  The first three went down after an hour, by which time there was a hire boat behind us and behind that David appeared with CARMEN.

We helped him moor up – no easy task in the strong wind - and then discussed the wait.  Nobody else was going got get down the locks before the 12.30 – 1.30 lunch break.  At that moment a French woman from yet another hire boat, behind CARMEN, appeared and said she was a Le Boat employee delivering a boat.  Alex and David tried to explain to her that Alex was minded to let the 3 hire boats go down together and forfeit his place in the queue.  But she was so full of hell because of the delay that she refused to listen and stalked off.  So we thought, “Sod you! We will take our place in the queue anyway” and at 1.25 she was back trying to persuade the lockkeeper to let her through ahead but David, bless his socks, was there too, arguing against her.  So I’m afraid she ended up with her just desserts.

We were making our way towards Homps when suddenly we spied a tortoise on a floating log, also making its way towards Homps!  For once we managed to overtake something!

We are now at Homps where we arrived on Saturday afternoon after the Capitainerie had shut.  (High season, Saturday lunchtime and what do they do?  Shut down till Monday morning!!!)  The down side is that you need a special 32 amp plug adapter which we don’t have, to plug in for electricity, which normally you borrow on deposit from the Capitainerie, but the upside is that the mooring will be free till Monday.

And Alex, never one to be daunted, has managed to make a 32 amp adapter out of three of the pins from a 5-pin 3-phase plug which he had in stock, some circles of 1/2" MDF which he machined with the router and the blue plastic cap from an aerosol can.  At a brief glance, it looks pretty authentic, and works beautifully, so free electricity too!