Started cool overcast, and stayed that way with occasional sun.
Self administration and socialising - cleaned engine and engine space and
gossiped - clothes wash, etc.
The 3 p.m. onwards Sunday promenade had to be seen to be believed. LOTS of
people - formed study group by boat while brass cleaning - hardly a riveting
spectator sport. It appears to be the custom for all boat people to visit each
other - not sure about this - there are English, South African English
(Tokaloshe), Swiss, French, Dutch, and others.
June 7
Monday
Roanne to Iguerande (retracing last week's steps.)
Weather fine, clear and blustery - cool.
Spent morning finishing "self administration".
Set off pronto to buy an ordinary common or garden radiator cap at an
ordinary common or garden spares shop (got address and maps on Saturday)
Although had looked up and memorised all necessary "technical"
terms, and produced them ad lib, much sucking of teeth, and "ain't got
that sort of thing 'ere" noises.
Eventually, in desperation, produced old buggered up one.
Screams of joy, much reading of small print in corner, then triumphal
statement equivalent to "ain't got one of them 'ere", "never
seen it", "never had it", "don't know what it is
anyway". It seems motor spares employees do no vary from country to
country.
Pointed out that I had spoken to the English agent, that what I wanted was
"normale" with middle of the road pressure parameters, etc etc.
In all fairness, they pointed me at a radiator specialist institution on the
outskirts of town, and when were told pathetically, that it was a foot
passenger operation, popped me into a little van, and drove me there.
The elderly loon in charge of this very backstreet operation also did much
teeth sucking, came up with 2 caps that he would not give me because they were
"wrong".
Assured him I couldn't care less how wrong they were so long as they fitted
and kept the bloody radiator water inside the engine, instead of all over the
floor of the engine room.
Incidentally, the mystic tiny figures on the caps were within the parameters
given me by Peachment - the English Agents.
Finally talked loon into handing me both caps - no responsibility given,
implied or taken. Cost - zero.
Van took me straight back to boat. Caps fit!
Back up town to rendezvous - some 30 minutes late, but both of us are
reasonably easy to pick out in public, and meeting in supermarket took place!
Back to boat, back to town for forgotten tel card, milk and cash from
hole-in-the-wall.
Lunch on boat, farewells to neighbours, where appropriate, and off.
Pleasant run - met "Gadabout" again on their way to Roanne. (The
N.B. we met in Decize last week) - seemed to go twice as fast as on way down -
to remembered formal mooring opposite quiet but pretty restaurant. Started
raining, steadily and solidly, about tea time - cold and dank.
Had the moorings to ourselves - shared and enjoyed restaurant with bibulous
crowd of French (who else) who provided constant entertainment, and were
distinctly on their way. Eventually one of the party got hold of the chief
trouble maker, took him outside by the scruff of his neck, and shut him in a
taxi.
Much hilarity, as he got out, staggered across the canal (on a bridge) and
studied Albert. The hope was that he would fall in.
Splendid meal, with wine, steak and all - ff240.
Bed - in peace without traffic or neighbours.
June 8
Tuesday
Iguerande to Bourg le Comte
Up to brilliant clear morning, and the jolly sound of an enthusiastic motor
strimmer right opposite us.
Realised that if credit card cheques did not leave to-day there was no
chance of getting them over to avoid interest.
Tried to ring direct for total owing from village call box, but old type and
didn't work.
On to Artaix, where we knew we could do it all.
Found card call-box on a moorings jetty, had been thoroughly rammed by some
vehicle or other, but although glassless and drunken it worked. Rang
Barclaycard to confirm debt. Tried Access, and they put us in a tel queue
(from a call box in France!).
Sent off cheques from post box in the village - hope they get there in time
- don't fancy paying interest.
Stopped off at overnight mooring of last week (where we met "riverdance")
and had lunch, and were invaded by a German a.c.c. They couldn't moor the
thing up, because, after ramming the land and putting one bloke ashore, he
tied them to bollard, and the driver just went flat out astern. Helped!
Africaanse not understood by Germans, French only slightly - "right hand
hard down, ease up on that bow rope, etc, etc, etc". The grand brun orse
symptoms were prevalent again.
As soon as they settled for their lunch we shot off to try and get through
the triple locks on our own.
Got through the first - the 7 metre one, but word got through, and they came
steaming up, (must have gobbled their lunch) and we had to wait for them at
the second.
Tied up for night at reasonable country mooring just Above lock at a late
1600, no where in particular, but bucolic and peaceful.
Put out chairs, read and cut beard, but got very cold with bitter N. wind
coming down canal.
Retired inside boat at 1800 for drinks, etc. So the sun came out!
June 9
Wednesday
Bourge le Comte to Chassenard.
Still - of course - retracing steps, but it is virtually new country.
We are great ones for NOT regarding out and back trips boring.
The return journey is almost invariably more fun than the outgoing.
The weather is probably different - it was steaming hot and whiplash
thunderstorms when we came down - and now it is cold but clear. No rain for
almost 3 whole days, and, of course, from our level and at our speed, one can
see a sight or view, turn round and compare it with the upcoming one, if you
can remember it - which you almost invariably can't.
Also, one has little memories of things that happened, of L.K.'s foibles and
appearances, and the mooring places that look good and are, or aren't. The
nettles that have grown over, etc, etc.
And, of course, one saves money by only having to buy half the number of
maps and books.
Decided to try and do something about the "propeller thrash". A
nasty noise of thrash-thrash-thrash from the back of the boat echoing through
the hull.
The radiator cap-water all over the engine room drama seems quiescent at the
moment, so naturally we have to find something else wrong with the boat.
Tied up several times, and tried various ideas, including wrapping an old
fan belt round the prop blades to reduce their efficiency, thereby reducing
the speed of the water off the end of the blade, thereby reducing the noise of
the water rushing off it and making nasty noises when it hit the bottom of the
boat.
This wasn't as silly an idea as it sounds - when weed gets wrapped around
the prop the boat always sounds quieter, more powerful and throaty.
The only thing is, she doesn't usually get anywhere.
Anyway, this idea - along with the rest - didn't work.
Stopped for night when lock came in sight and reversed back round corner -
we didn't want to go through as it would have tied us to going through next 2,
and debouching into Digoin. Nice grassy spot, on off-side, but had to carry
out usual gang plank drill.
Eventually L.K. on Velocette "found" us, and virtually apologised
for not being at his lock - he had to look after 2 (they all do - and the
system works extremely well, so long as one goes along with it.) Arranged to
go through to-morrow at 0930.
Took weed trap off and studied propeller - that is the top 1" one can
see in the quite disgusting water. In due course decided that there was a
slight bend/kink in one blade. This is usual - we all hit something sometime,
but there should not be nasty noises.
Tried to straighten it - slightly ineffectually, with vice grips and
shifting spanner - both tied to wrist before plunging hand into water.
We'll see tomorrow.
June 10s
Thursday
Chassenard to Digoin.
As arranged - into the guy's lock at 0930 on the dot (i.e. between 0930 and
10.00).
The propeller thrash was marginally better - but hardly sufficient to
justify the work on it last night.
Much happy gossip - this L.K. was comprehensible, so many of them must have
strong regional accents.
(Heaven help Frenchman on the Glos-Sharpness - most of the L.K.s have strong
Gloucestershire accents, except the bloke on Gloucester Lock who speaks pure
and strong Glasgow - and is as awkward as only a small Glaswegian can be.).
The run was pure joy - weather that had started dull and cool cheered up,
and was sufficiently warm for summer kit, but not thoroughly nasty like last
week. Last time we saw this part of the canal we either streaming with sweat
under the brolly worried sick about the engine, or streaming with sweat in our
rain gear, wondering what the hell we were doing here in the first place.
Passed first field of small grain turning yellow!
Came into Digoin well before lunch and tied up in the town cut, at the
closest point to the shops, collected mail (hurrah), bought buttons for
knitting, bread, etc. and went on into marina.
Asked for diesel and night's mooring when staff came back on duty at a
prompt 15.20 for 1500.
It really does not do to worry about that sort of thing here. The meal break
is sacred - the 20 to 30 minutes before the meal break is sacred - the 10 to
20 minutes after the meal break is sacred, and the conversation - be it
telephonic or face to face - is sacred, not to be interrupted. Live with it!
we finally filled with diesel (gas oil here) and settled on same mooring as
last week. (This week ff20, last week ff35) 78 litres diesel put in - ff450.
We don't get red diesel privileges in France, so it cost us here about 58p a
litre. (about 45p only in supermarkets, but you have to lug the stuff over in
cans by hand!
Tried yet another idea to reduce prop thrash - baffles of hardwood bolted to
weed hatch bottom
Weather turn really nice for most of the day - sunny and clear, but not
excessively hot. Bright sunshine at 2030 when we went telephone box hunting.
Quick gossip with "something of Brighton", sailor - big nice boat
on it's way to Spain.
June 11
Friday.
Digoine to 3 locks beyond Paray le Monial., nearest village la Gravoine.
We are travellers. We actually enjoy the act of leaving a place and moving -
fetch the little men in white coats who collect up elderly people who fidget
their way around the country/world. We are waiting - but only for a very short
time in one place - we've moved on.
Left Digoine at about 09.30. There was a very boring fellow + wife + 4 yr.
old son moored up behind us in a very neat motor/sailor. When I was battling
with the weed hatch last night he spoke with an absolute stage Scanderhoovian
accent "vwhat are you making". The he pompously and ostentatiously
filled an enormous pipe and told me what they did in Denmark with and to
everything they do to and with things in Denmark.
This morning early - any time before 0930 is early - he was mooching around
fiddling with his pipe on the jetty. He was very large, very
young/fit/strong/beautiful, wearing very short shorts on sunbronzed legs the
size and shape of tree trunks.. He was awful.
Wandered off about 10.00 - prop thrash definitely reduced, but suspect we
had lost some power/speed through the water. Very subjective on these wide
canals, and impossible to judge by eye.
Country still very bucolic (difficult for country to be anything else) -
exit from
Digoine
remarkable to us in that although large town with major motorway (confined to a
single lane carriage way either way) through it, the whole place is clean, neat
and tidy - no graffiti, no litter, lots of flower pots and boxes well looked
after in public places - and general feeling of total security.
Country after Digoine fractionally different, large farms with big steadings
- but still small fields, as opposed to the country down to Roanne which was
almost like native reserve with nice stone house roofed with terra cotta tiles
replacing the rondaavels.
Still every where lots of cattle - ONLY Charolais! It appears that they
breed a special colour scheme into these cattle - the white backsides all have
a fan shaped area of brown emanating downwards from their tails. Dirty fellows
and girls.
Followed by "something of Brighton" into first lock, going
terribly slowly - terrified, justifiably so, for their keel. We were a little
nervous of their boat handling - very large and very beautiful, but they did
not look as they had any idea as to what the were doing - knotted holding
lines in the water at the locks, etc. Will they make Spain?
Waiting for them was great. L.K. chatty - took me into his house to show me
a painting of his ex peniche - cargo carrying. He and wife - she was shelling
the most super looking peas - were full of retirement (1 year, 1 month, and so
many days) but would only go back to boating on a full size Peniche. Both took
immense trouble to enunciate slowly and clearly, so speaking Fr with them was
a pleasure. Discussed no end of things while S. read map book trapped on boat
in bottom of lock.
Lunch at entrance to Paray le Monial.- from some way back the R.N. 79
(lorries from all over Europe nose to tail) has run parallel to the canal -
and right beside it.
There were proper moorings marked in P le M, but found a grass track with
road closed notices across it, and large shade trees, so stopped there. Worth
it, the public moorings were very good, still same distance from noisy R.N.
and very sanitised, but had no shade.
Started promptly at 1400, straight into first lock and frustration. Lock
keeper not there - and as is usual, all windlasses removed. Waited half an
hour, tried calling from the cottage, but lad said he had 6 locks to look
after and could be anywhere!
Shut boat into lock, and was all set to making a plan using Middle Levels
(East Anglia and Cambridge Waterways) windlass. Wouldn't have worked - these
are at least 1.5 ", or whatever in hectares, across, whereas all mine are
in eighths from 3/4" upwards to 1 and 3/8ths. Meantime, L.K. fellow
arrived and said we had to wait for another boat, so I let him re-open the
gates on his own, then he asked if we minded if he disappeared to fetch a
window for his house. Personally I did not understand him to say that at all,
I thought he said he wanted to go and collect the boat that was due in. How
misunderstandings can happen.
Along came a sort of Belgian boat with a bloody great Greenpeace flag
covered in solar panels (the boat - not the flag), sunwarm shower bags, etc
etc, and a smelly engine with little or no silencer who assumed I was the L.K.
and gave me their disgusting bits of Great Mills type blue string.
It really does not pay either to know what is what, or to be first into a
lock.
As soon as we were out, got him to overtake us, and simmered down - this is
France, we are retired, and who cares anyway. I just hate my energy being
wasted by idiots.
Motored gently on, lost the motor way, but a little "D" road
hugged the canal now.
L.K. fortunately was believer in goose and gander sauce, so the Belgians
powered away from each lock, then had to wait for us!
Eventually knocked off about 1715, on offside, away from road, which was
only cars anyway (saw a 2 cv almost at lift-off into orbit) in nice spot with
no view.
Started getting cold, so had to come in! 18.30 in June - too cold top sit
out, but stayed fine.
Read that the small road down the side of the canal is, in fact, the tow
path, and used to be exciting in the old days when horses pulled boats. The
whole of this canal has it's towpath as motorable, but very small, road.
June 12
Saturday
Paray le Monial., nearest village la Gravoine to Monceau les Mines
It always happens at week-ends!
Looked out of boat whilst preparing breakfast to see what looked light deer
or goat in the canal.
Binoculars misted up - left up top over night and filled with condensation.
L.K. arrived with van and orange trousers, but too far away to see what he
did.
Pushed of as usual at declared 0930 - fine warm clear sunny day.
Shirt sleeves, shorts and monstrous sun brolley up.
Asked L.K. about deer - with help of dictionary - and were assured it had
"got out".
Made to wait at second lock out, and "Thing of Brighton" turned
up.
Continued on our oddesey, nearly stopping for lunch at a rather pretty
village Genelard, but were swept on by L.K. - pity. We were already in lock
with "thing" behind, when we decided it would have been a good place
to stop.
Stopped just before Ciry le Noble, on an ordinary stretch of canal - but
there seemed to be no more promising places, there revets to tie up to, and we
were hungry.
Stopped right opposite small garage - since Digoin have passed countless
places with diesel at least Fr fr1.5 per litre cheaper than the marina at
Digoin. You just have to carry it to the boat in cans across the road! Fun. We
have 2 jerricans - 4.5 galls or 20 litres each. A Gall weighs about 10 lbs -
lug 45 lbs in each hand in amongst the traffic.
Anyway surprising how one can dissociate oneself from that one does not want
to be associated with, ignoring it completely.
After lunch continued gently, and almost at once saw boulangerie on far side
of road.
Tied boat to traffic crash barrier (separates canal and road all the way-
quite spooky seeing cars come round corner on wrong side of road, driven from
wrong seat, right in perceived path of Albert), climbed ashore, and the crash
barrier, and bought bakery bits and pieces on a Sat afternoon from immaculate
lady in tiny village in tiny shop.
Definitely part of the fun - simple things, etc.
Steadily climbing - country still very rural, but human habitation a bit
more frequent - especially along the road/tow-path.
Canal started getting very tatty, with very nasty rocky retaining sides, or
rusted through galvanised steel piling.
Obvious that these pounds - not that far below the summit - are always low
and short of water - really quite nasty, as water itself is so opaque and
filthy, snags are invisible. No apparent reason for water shortage, either,
there is plenty running down the bywashes in the rest of the canal - read the
book, and found these pounds always have been well below declared min depth -
1.8 metres - but usually only about .8 metres. We draw .6, so no worries. No
explanations, though.
Meant to moor up for night in this area - Montcear-les-Mines was not far
ahead, and following English logic and practice we wanted to sleepover in the
country before the town, and go right through without stopping to-morrow.
Unfortunately, absolutely no question of mooring up out here - couldn't get
closer that 12 ft from shore, and were thoroughly aground even there.
Soldiered on, and realised that it was going to be Montceau, whether we like
it or not.
Negotiated blind bend under railway bridge, and found "Thing" in
middle of canal, slap under bridge, well and truly aground, rather scared
female portion of crew in charge, husband/skipper gone on foot to find L.K.
Decided that we would stick around until he returned - there was ample water
for Albert around "Thing" - just to keep an eye. In actual fact
there was absolutely no drama at all.
"Thing"'s skipper arrived back covered in sweat, so we ferried him
to his boat (no idea how he got off - she was firmly wedged right in the
middle a long way from shore) with the information that the L.K. was letting
more water down, which we could see, and that there was a full sized peniche
in the lock coming as well. Thought it a bit stupid to let the peniche
through, when he knew the canal was blocked, but there it was.
Extra water arrived and sufficed to float "Thing" off the mud, at
the same time as the Peniche - a Dutchman, who was very laid back. We got out
of road, but stood by just upstream, and regrettably from camera point of view
round corner, where could only see peniche's back end churning out periodical
bursts of chocolate.
Eventually "Thing" appeared, and we went up to lock in convoy,
locked through - think they were a bit shaken - to Montceau pound, which was
beautifully full.
We passed into Montceau, a mining town, past various coal mines, cooling
towers, etc, all closed down, but all left in a clean, neat and tidy way, no
vandalism or graffiti, or litter, just rather sad, looked as though a new
shift could clock on to-morrow. All the houses - there were neat little
flowered French cottages right in under both the mine works, and cooling tower
- looked well occupied and cared for.
Here, according to the book, we had to negotiate a boater controlled
hydraulic swing bridge, followed almost at once by an operator controlled one.
The book was right - but the bridges were huge multi carriage road-way ones,
the first operated by a cord dangling over the canal half a mile back from it.
Just stop at the cord, and pull smartly, and the whole operation goes into
motion, traffic lights on the road for both bridges, and everything. These
French are great engineers, and don't believe in half measures. Everything was
timed so that we arrived exactly as the bridges reached top - bit silly for
Albert who is only about 8 ft above water level, but it all worked
beautifully.
Through the bridges, with both "Thing" and us making like
destroyers in case the million ton bridges came back down on top of us, up to
the Port de Plaisance.
It was super.
Finger pontoons, in an area of the town with great wide streets - mostly
pedestrianised - big nice shops, lots of cafes and restaurants with tables and
brollies all over the pavements. Rather Mediterranean in appearance.
Tied up across end of one trot of fingers - we were too long and too iron to
tie up nose or arse in - and leapt onto the pontoon in usual zealous fashion,
only to find that it only just supported my weight.
An ugly moment as teetered holding Albert on centre line. Fortunately boat
behaved, came to a dead stop just there, and tied up as though nothing
unto-ward had happened.
Snugged down drinks in evening sun in cockpit, still a bit chilly for
complete sitting out, and super arriving.
Then skipper of "thing" came round to "thank us for standing
by" and had a couple of beers. How often have narrow boats stood by 38
foot yachts when aground? Quite a thought! One for the RYA history book.
Eventually supper at about 10.00, in sunlight, but chilly, as was the
supper.
Night slightly disturbed - but only slightly - by odd drunk from cafes - it
was Saturday night!
Perceived price of mooring up in this haven (space for about 30 boats, but
only 5 - including huge "American" Dutch Barge), was ff13 per night
for Albert, which no-body collects, anyway, it being the w/e. Water and
electricity were laid on, but we didn't bother!
