...there just isn't a whole lot to write home about. This is one of those times. We are in the charming but noisy port at Bar-le-Duc a couple of weeks earlier than anticipated. We're on the Marne-Rhine canal and there is very little traffic - we see perhaps one of two other boats each day. The weather is fine and we are both well.
Now that we have managed to track down a Waterways Guide for Champagne-Ardenne, we can decide where to go next. We are to meet our friend, Rob, on the 6th of September and he will be "somewhere near Reims". As Reims is the capital of the Champagne region, there is some incentive to see if we can get there, even if it wasn't part of our initial planning. We'll do some study and let you know.
The "high point" of this canal involved negotiating a 4.78km long tunnel at the lowest speed we could possibly manage without losing steerage - it took about 1 hour 20 minutes and wasn't a whole lot of fun. All the information we read or received about it (including some in writing from the VNF that day), suggested that we would be towed through the tunnel by an electric chain tug because there is no ventilation. This didn't happen and we had to follow the chain tug and two other boats through under motor at minimum speed. Because of the chain tug system - whether it is towing or not - there are only two times in the day when you can go through the tunnel in either direction. Because of the lock opening hours, it's impossible to get from the previous port to the tunnel entrance before the morning crossing at 10:30, so the three boat represented all the westward traffic for the day.
Leaving Bar-le-Duc today and heading towards the end of the canal at Vitry-le-Francois. When we get there, we'll need to decide where next.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
A week in Toul
We are in Toul and have been here since Monday. We plan to leave next Monday but that is flexible too. We needed a cheapish, pleasant place to stay at to catch up on a lot of little jobs, some of them leaky windows and a place called Toul seems appropriately named for stopping to do jobs. They are not life-threatening but are a constant source of irritation. It costs 6 euros a night to stay here, water and electricity included, and 1 euro for a shower, which can do two people. We booked in for a week at a bit of a discount, 30 euros for the week. The port itself is pleasant, close to the centre of town with good supermarkets and other services. We enjoyed an early evening of free wine tasting of the local product (Cotes de Toul) just over the road from the port, and the bread from the Boulangerie also just over the road is possibly the best we have had. We have made a good start on jobs and have even done some we hadn’t planned on doing. The weather has so far been glorious with fabulous evenings.
We have met, and re-met, lots of lovely people and a few kiwis (some lovely and some fellows who are your typical, helpful kiwi bloke) We had a rude and stroppy bully of a Frenchman one night who berated the poor capitainerie lady because he had moored his boat only to find all the power points had been taken. There were plenty of places in other parts of the port with power points but no, he didn’t want to move and he didn‘t think he should have to pay full price if he didn‘t have electricity. The solution was apparently to share a power point… Without talking to us he pulled our plug out, added a dodgy looking connection that hopefully would give power to both boats. C had a spirited word or two with him in French pointing out that it wasn’t usual behaviour to meddle with our power without asking and making it obvious that she expected him to do something about protecting the connection from possible rain. With bad grace he endeavoured to protect the connection with a plastic bag. As it happened all went well but the contretemps was unpleasant and was heard by all the neighbouring boaties. Compare that with another Frenchman who tied up last night and encountered the same problem. He came and nicely asked us if he could put in a double adaptor to ‘share’ a power point and of course we were happy to oblige. Also he had a ‘proper’ connection so it was safe.
We are loving our boat more and more and having seen in and out of a lot of different models of boats have come to appreciate certain features of our one. Many boats have lots of narrow sets of stairs separating one area of the boat from another. Ours has two steps leading from the saloon down to the galley and cabins. Very few have an ‘island’ double bed, in fact many - usually Dutch boats - don‘t have a double bed at all. Our gas stove has four rings, a griller and an oven, which seems to be unusual. Erewhon has quite a flat bottom and draws only 60cm of water. It is quite beamy (that means “wide” or “broad” for those without a boating background) at 3.6 metres and doesn’t rock as much as many of the boats which have deeper keels, high superstructures and elevated steering positions. We had a mouth-watering, brand new steel boat moored next to us for a few days. It was similar to our boat in many ways in terms of the general layout but that was where the similarities ended. It was owned by a very nice Dutch couple and it was built in Holland with special features they particularly wanted. It had all the bells and whistles, including satellite tv, stern and bow thrusters, and a washing machine. C constantly reminds J that Erewhon does in fact have a stern and a bow thruster - her! She fulfils the role in many situations by pushing off a lock wall or pontoon from the front, back or middle of the boat, as required. Unlike real bow thrusters, however, she is completely ineffective when we are trying to manoeuvre in the middle of the water when there is nothing solid to push against.
We haunt bricolage stores (hardware eg Mitre 10 Mega) and are delighted to find solutions to various little challenges we want to solve. One needs time to look carefully at what’s for sale because with everything written in French, it is not always immediately obvious what a particular product is for. You also can’t always find an equivalent product to what we would get at home, so the “solution” might end up looking quite different to what we first imagined. Some brand products are available in some stores and not others eg Sikaflex and a particular degreasing cleaner that is fantastic. It can be frustrating if you cannot get what you want and some jobs are either deferred until you can get it or you use a product that might not do the job properly. Occasionally, in a bigger town, it is possible to cycle or catch a bus to a big industrial zone to find what you want. We have cycled, bussed and walked back to the boat with all manner of odd loads including carpet and lengths of timber.
We watch the way different people do things and constantly copy or modify their better ideas to suit ourselves. A shortish rope with a loop spliced at both ends has proved very useful. It can be used when wanting to tie up quickly to moor the stern of the boat to a bollard, then deal with the other ropes. It is great to use when locking up or down sometimes if there is a ladder or pole to loop around. It is safer and easier to manage than a long rope. A short length of hose with a trigger rose attachment designed for watering gardens makes a quick and refreshing shower to cool off if we are on shore water. If we want a warm shower well all we have to do is lay out the whole length of the hose in the sun and in 10 minutes we can have a warm shower, or a too hot one, if we are not careful!
One of the interesting things about being in one port for a while is to get a feel for the rhythm of the place and to watch the comings and goings of the different boats. Here in Toul, the port is sandwiched between two locks, both very close to the port. Although all the guide books say that the locks are operational from 7am-7pm, the ones here most definitely do not function before 9am. Every morning, just before nine, we hear the sound of boat motors kicking into action and rush hour begins. Boats take off in both directions for the next hour or so and then the calm reigns once again. There is occasional traffic throughout the day - departures, arrivals and through traffic- but things start to get busy again around mid-afternoon as boats arrive to take up their moorings for the night. There is always a real mixture of nationalities represented each night. There are, of course, the great traditional users of the inland waterways: German, Dutch, Belgian and British; some French but not as many as you might expect; lots of Swiss boaties too, especially in these eastern parts of France. While we’ve been here, we’ve also seen an Austrian boat, one Danish and one Swedish boat, one American, one Australian and an over-representation of New Zealanders with three boats passing through the port in the five days so far. The boats come in all shapes and sizes as well but there is another whole post to be written about that sometime…
Sunday, August 9, 2009
High points
The “top” or high point of a canal is always an interesting and often a challenging place. This is often where the canal is at its steepest, so lock “staircases”, where one lock follows another and another in close proximity are common. There are often also tunnels; our longest so far having been our first - the Pouilly tunnel at the top of the Canal de Bourgogne was 3.333km long. The stretch of water between along the top of the canal is know as the dividing pound (a pound being the term used to describe the stretch of water between one lock and the next).
The Canal de la Marne au Rhin is unusual in that it has two dividing pounds - the Mauvages pound between the Meuse and Moselle valleys, which we have yet to encounter, and the Vosges pound between the Meurthe and the Zorn valleys, which we have just traversed in both directions on our trip from Nancy to Strasbourg and back. The Vosges pound is 33km long - that’s 33km without any locks. A luxury! It has a most spectacular example of canal engineering at each end. We approached the dividing pound from the Nancy end, which meant coming up the Rechicourt lock, the highest Freycinet gauge lock on the French waterways system. Freycinet was the chief waterways engineer in the late 19th century and he standardised the dimensions of the canals and the locks, and therefore the barges that could travel along them. The locks are 41m long and 5.5m wide. The Rechicourt lock is 15.4m high and when it was built, it replaced a flight of six locks. It is imposing to look at and is some five metres higher than any lock we’ve met to date.
We have, however, learnt not to fear big locks. In general they are gentle giants, where the water enters and leaves in such a way as to ensure a smooth ride up or down. The sign at the bottom of the lock announced a maximum wait of an hour and informed us that the locking process took 30 minutes each way. This confirmed that it would be a slow but probably comfortable trip. A trio of boats had just gone into the lock from the bottom as we approached, so we knew we had at least an hour to wait; looking at the size of the two boats in front of us in the queue, we thought it could well be longer. Both boats were approximately 15m long and our boat measures 11.6m (without the bathing platform on the back we think…). That’s more than 40m in length. But when the lock gates opened again, the VNF man in control of operations was sure he could fit us all in - and he did. But to say we were nose to tail would be understating the situation - we were actually overlapping in the lock, using not only every last centimetre of length but every one of width as well! Even with a smooth rise to the water, this was a most uncomfortable trip as C tried to keep the boat away from the stern of the boat in front and J used boathook and mop (which is less slippery) to keep our stern - and in particular our brand, spanking new platform - away from the formidable metal gates at the back of the lock. I can tell you that we were happy to get out of there and even happier at the prospect of 33 lock-free kilometres, even if they did include two tunnels!
At the other end of those 33km is the Arzwiller inclined plane, which must be the ultimate in luxury locking experiences! This can best be described as a boat lift. You drive your boat into what looks like a more or less normal lock, tie up and the whole section of the canal is raised or lowered by counter weights over a vertical height of 44.55m and a horizontal length of 128.65m. The inclined plane, which went into operation in 1969, replaced 17 standard locks. It used to take around 8 hours to negotiate those locks. The inclined plane takes around 25 minutes altogether, including the actual “journey” time of four and a half minutes. But the very best thing about it is that it is entirely stress-free for the boaties. Once you’ve tied up, all you have to do is sit back and admire the scenery or marvel at the masterpiece of engineering. You don’t even have to keep a hold on your ropes - magic!
It was no less magic on the return trip either - possibly more so. The evening before, we moored in the basin below the inclined plane, which is at the head of a beautiful valley. On a beautiful afternoon and evening, we were able to watch the inclined plane in action from this gorgeous spot. We went up the hill to visit the museum and souvenir shop - both something of a disappointment but as boaties, we at least didn’t have too pay for the visit. We did, however, get a small poster featuring a view of the inclined plane that was better than any photo we’d be able to take ourselves.
We were in the first group to go up the inclined plane in the morning and relished the idea of not having to negotiate our way up 17 locks, which is much harder than going down. A day later we were in front of the Rechicourt lock and again arrived in time to watch three boats enter the lock in front of us, which inevitably meant another wait of about an hour. We eyed up the boat in front and behind us and decided that as they were both about 13m in length, we would fit more comfortably into the lock with these two than was the case on our way up. However, it was a different VNF employee, in charge that day and obviously one with a different philosophy in these matters. He decided that two boats constituted a full lock and put us through with a luxurious amount of space and in complete comfort.
The impact of this decision was greater than would seem at first. The boat in front of us turned around soon afterwards and any boats behind us were now at least an hour behind. For the rest of the day we had the luxury of being able to pass through the locks on our own.
The Canal de la Marne au Rhin is unusual in that it has two dividing pounds - the Mauvages pound between the Meuse and Moselle valleys, which we have yet to encounter, and the Vosges pound between the Meurthe and the Zorn valleys, which we have just traversed in both directions on our trip from Nancy to Strasbourg and back. The Vosges pound is 33km long - that’s 33km without any locks. A luxury! It has a most spectacular example of canal engineering at each end. We approached the dividing pound from the Nancy end, which meant coming up the Rechicourt lock, the highest Freycinet gauge lock on the French waterways system. Freycinet was the chief waterways engineer in the late 19th century and he standardised the dimensions of the canals and the locks, and therefore the barges that could travel along them. The locks are 41m long and 5.5m wide. The Rechicourt lock is 15.4m high and when it was built, it replaced a flight of six locks. It is imposing to look at and is some five metres higher than any lock we’ve met to date.
We have, however, learnt not to fear big locks. In general they are gentle giants, where the water enters and leaves in such a way as to ensure a smooth ride up or down. The sign at the bottom of the lock announced a maximum wait of an hour and informed us that the locking process took 30 minutes each way. This confirmed that it would be a slow but probably comfortable trip. A trio of boats had just gone into the lock from the bottom as we approached, so we knew we had at least an hour to wait; looking at the size of the two boats in front of us in the queue, we thought it could well be longer. Both boats were approximately 15m long and our boat measures 11.6m (without the bathing platform on the back we think…). That’s more than 40m in length. But when the lock gates opened again, the VNF man in control of operations was sure he could fit us all in - and he did. But to say we were nose to tail would be understating the situation - we were actually overlapping in the lock, using not only every last centimetre of length but every one of width as well! Even with a smooth rise to the water, this was a most uncomfortable trip as C tried to keep the boat away from the stern of the boat in front and J used boathook and mop (which is less slippery) to keep our stern - and in particular our brand, spanking new platform - away from the formidable metal gates at the back of the lock. I can tell you that we were happy to get out of there and even happier at the prospect of 33 lock-free kilometres, even if they did include two tunnels!
At the other end of those 33km is the Arzwiller inclined plane, which must be the ultimate in luxury locking experiences! This can best be described as a boat lift. You drive your boat into what looks like a more or less normal lock, tie up and the whole section of the canal is raised or lowered by counter weights over a vertical height of 44.55m and a horizontal length of 128.65m. The inclined plane, which went into operation in 1969, replaced 17 standard locks. It used to take around 8 hours to negotiate those locks. The inclined plane takes around 25 minutes altogether, including the actual “journey” time of four and a half minutes. But the very best thing about it is that it is entirely stress-free for the boaties. Once you’ve tied up, all you have to do is sit back and admire the scenery or marvel at the masterpiece of engineering. You don’t even have to keep a hold on your ropes - magic!
It was no less magic on the return trip either - possibly more so. The evening before, we moored in the basin below the inclined plane, which is at the head of a beautiful valley. On a beautiful afternoon and evening, we were able to watch the inclined plane in action from this gorgeous spot. We went up the hill to visit the museum and souvenir shop - both something of a disappointment but as boaties, we at least didn’t have too pay for the visit. We did, however, get a small poster featuring a view of the inclined plane that was better than any photo we’d be able to take ourselves.
We were in the first group to go up the inclined plane in the morning and relished the idea of not having to negotiate our way up 17 locks, which is much harder than going down. A day later we were in front of the Rechicourt lock and again arrived in time to watch three boats enter the lock in front of us, which inevitably meant another wait of about an hour. We eyed up the boat in front and behind us and decided that as they were both about 13m in length, we would fit more comfortably into the lock with these two than was the case on our way up. However, it was a different VNF employee, in charge that day and obviously one with a different philosophy in these matters. He decided that two boats constituted a full lock and put us through with a luxurious amount of space and in complete comfort.
The impact of this decision was greater than would seem at first. The boat in front of us turned around soon afterwards and any boats behind us were now at least an hour behind. For the rest of the day we had the luxury of being able to pass through the locks on our own.
Puncture in the park
In the last post we mentioned a punctured bicycle tyre but there was another little story behind that comment. I think we’ve told you more than once how much we enjoy cycling here. We love our bikes (why is it that you can’t buy real, comfortable ladies’ bikes in NZ???) and we love the freedom of taking them new places. We also love the exercise - up to a point.
We’ve been riding our bikes all over the place for a navigating season and a half without ever having thought about taking a puncture repair kit anywhere with us - even though there are at least three of them on board the boat and even though Prue had a puncture on one of the bikes last year when she and Paul were spending time with us. Then, a couple of weeks ago, it occurred to C that it might be quite a good idea if we put one of the repair kits into one of our backpacks so that it was with us when and where we had a puncture. We all know that if you are going to puncture a tyre, it will happen at the farthest possible point from home, which in our case happens to be the boat...
...and of course this was exactly what did happen. On our longest bike ride in the last two years, at around 12 or 13km from the boat, J picked up a big staple in her tyre. We had just come back over the Rhine from Germany and were in French side of the park which goes along the banks on both sides of the river. Having a puncture repair kit with us was not the only bit of luck. The staple had stayed in the tyre so we were easily able to find the puncture hole in the inner tube. Those of you who have repaired tyres in the past will know what a blessing that was! We were able to fix the puncture in no time but there remained one small problem - we didn’t have a tyre pump with us. There is only one of these on the boat and it is a big, foot-operated pump and as such not so easily slipped into a backpack every time we go for a ride… We were, however, on a cycle path in the park and as soon as we started the repair, we began asking the occasional passing cyclists if they had a pump. By the time we had the patch on the tyre, we hadn’t found anyone with a pump. We were, however, right next to a part of the park that was cordoned off for a circus and C noticed that they seemed to have quite a lot of bikes in a shed behind the fence. Where there are a lot of bikes, surely there would also be a pump. And indeed there was along with a lovely man who was perfectly happy to lend it to us and to make sure we had the right sort of attachment for our tyres… In fact, the most difficult part of the operation was finding the entrance to the circus enclosure in the first place!
By the time C returned with the pump, she found J being assisted by a lovely couple of older cyclists, who had their grandson with them. The conversation was delightful and conducted in the best mix of franglais, gesture and goodwill. While apparently unable to assist with the pump, they were most concerned that we should be able to successfully complete the operation and the gentleman helped J get the inner tube back into the outer tyre casing. With the tyre successfully reinflated and tested, C returned the pump to the circus reception with our most grateful thanks. Meanwhile, the couple who had ridden off returned and revealed to J - amidst some hilarity - that the woman did have a pump on her bike after all! She just didn’t know it was there. It looked as though it was part of the carrier and they’d only found it because they examined their bikes more carefully after running across us with our puncture.
And the final bit of good fortune was that all this took place outside the toilets in the park, which must be amongst the cleanest and best appointed public toilets in the country. When we set forth again we did so in comfort and with sparklingly clean hands.
We’ve been riding our bikes all over the place for a navigating season and a half without ever having thought about taking a puncture repair kit anywhere with us - even though there are at least three of them on board the boat and even though Prue had a puncture on one of the bikes last year when she and Paul were spending time with us. Then, a couple of weeks ago, it occurred to C that it might be quite a good idea if we put one of the repair kits into one of our backpacks so that it was with us when and where we had a puncture. We all know that if you are going to puncture a tyre, it will happen at the farthest possible point from home, which in our case happens to be the boat...
...and of course this was exactly what did happen. On our longest bike ride in the last two years, at around 12 or 13km from the boat, J picked up a big staple in her tyre. We had just come back over the Rhine from Germany and were in French side of the park which goes along the banks on both sides of the river. Having a puncture repair kit with us was not the only bit of luck. The staple had stayed in the tyre so we were easily able to find the puncture hole in the inner tube. Those of you who have repaired tyres in the past will know what a blessing that was! We were able to fix the puncture in no time but there remained one small problem - we didn’t have a tyre pump with us. There is only one of these on the boat and it is a big, foot-operated pump and as such not so easily slipped into a backpack every time we go for a ride… We were, however, on a cycle path in the park and as soon as we started the repair, we began asking the occasional passing cyclists if they had a pump. By the time we had the patch on the tyre, we hadn’t found anyone with a pump. We were, however, right next to a part of the park that was cordoned off for a circus and C noticed that they seemed to have quite a lot of bikes in a shed behind the fence. Where there are a lot of bikes, surely there would also be a pump. And indeed there was along with a lovely man who was perfectly happy to lend it to us and to make sure we had the right sort of attachment for our tyres… In fact, the most difficult part of the operation was finding the entrance to the circus enclosure in the first place!
By the time C returned with the pump, she found J being assisted by a lovely couple of older cyclists, who had their grandson with them. The conversation was delightful and conducted in the best mix of franglais, gesture and goodwill. While apparently unable to assist with the pump, they were most concerned that we should be able to successfully complete the operation and the gentleman helped J get the inner tube back into the outer tyre casing. With the tyre successfully reinflated and tested, C returned the pump to the circus reception with our most grateful thanks. Meanwhile, the couple who had ridden off returned and revealed to J - amidst some hilarity - that the woman did have a pump on her bike after all! She just didn’t know it was there. It looked as though it was part of the carrier and they’d only found it because they examined their bikes more carefully after running across us with our puncture.
And the final bit of good fortune was that all this took place outside the toilets in the park, which must be amongst the cleanest and best appointed public toilets in the country. When we set forth again we did so in comfort and with sparklingly clean hands.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Two lovely days in Strasbourg... in brief
We arrived in Souffelweyersheim, the last port before Strasbourg, on Friday 24th at lunchtime. The next day we decided to cycle the 10 km into Strasbourg and spend the day there rather than trying to take the boat in with little or no chance of finding a decent mooring. What a lovely day it turned out to be. We left at 8am and thoroughly enjoyed the ride there stopping to take photographs along the way, especially of the European Parliament building. 
This fabulous structure cannot be done justice with a photo, it has to be seen to be believed. We arrived at the famous -and fabulous - cathedral just before nine and went straight inside. A good move as it happened as we largely missed out on hordes of guided tours. There is simply too much to try and take in with just one visit. One of the most astounding things to see is the astrological clock. This structure dating from the 16th century is easily 10 metres high with many displays including the time, day, month, season, day on the religious calendar. It is still in perfect working order and is an engineering triumph, as indeed is the cathedral itself, which would rate as one of the most beautiful we have ever seen.
After visiting the Office de Tourisme to get a map and any other useful information, we wandered the streets. Saturday is market day in Strasbourg and most streets in the centre of the city are traffic free and have all manner of stalls. J had her very first tarte flambee for lunch which she thoroughly enjoyed. (It’s like a pizza but with crème fraiche, bacon, onion and cheese - so what’s not to like?! Wouldn‘t get the Heart Foundation tick however…) Lunch was followed by a wander through La Petite France which is ancient and charming. There are waterways in all directions and brightly-painted half-timbered houses dating back to the Middle Ages. The civil engineering works of Vauban are worth looking at, he has left reminders of his genius - usually by way of fortifications - in many of the places we have visited.
At one stage we had thought we might take Erewhon into the centre of Strasbourg but after looking around we decided there was no advantage in doing that so flagged the idea away.
On the Tuesday, still moored in Souffelweyersheim, we decided to cycle to Germany. ie cycle to the Rhine and over the pedestrian and cycle bridge into Germany. This was so much easier than we thought it would be because 99% of the trip was on well-maintained cycle paths which, because they largely follow the canal and river are flat. France and Germany have co-operated to develop a lovely garden on both sides of the Rhine linked by the beautiful cycle/pedestrian bridge. The idea is that it demonstrates the willingness to maintain meaningful dialogue between the two countries. The Rhine was running very quickly - so fast in fact we were pleased our plans to travel to Strasbourg via the Rhine were thwarted. A HUGE heavily laden barge went downstream while we were there. It was travelling very, very quickly indeed! The blunt bow displaced a surprising level of water in front of it which then travelled the full length of the barge like a series of large waves. The amount of water that then rose high at the stern like a rooster’s tail was indeed formidable. We understand our 6 tonne boat needs a minimum of 48hp to navigate the Rhine. We have 50hp - a bit too marginal for our liking. Having said that, the previous owners had a quick trip down the Rhine and lived to tell the tale.
From the Rhine we cycled back into Strasbourg to see a few sights we didn’t see on the Friday, mending a tyre puncture on the way. By the time we cycled back to the boat, we‘d completed a wonderful 30km journey, leaving us a little saddle sore and with no desire to ride our bikes for a day or so.
This fabulous structure cannot be done justice with a photo, it has to be seen to be believed. We arrived at the famous -and fabulous - cathedral just before nine and went straight inside. A good move as it happened as we largely missed out on hordes of guided tours. There is simply too much to try and take in with just one visit. One of the most astounding things to see is the astrological clock. This structure dating from the 16th century is easily 10 metres high with many displays including the time, day, month, season, day on the religious calendar. It is still in perfect working order and is an engineering triumph, as indeed is the cathedral itself, which would rate as one of the most beautiful we have ever seen.After visiting the Office de Tourisme to get a map and any other useful information, we wandered the streets. Saturday is market day in Strasbourg and most streets in the centre of the city are traffic free and have all manner of stalls. J had her very first tarte flambee for lunch which she thoroughly enjoyed. (It’s like a pizza but with crème fraiche, bacon, onion and cheese - so what’s not to like?! Wouldn‘t get the Heart Foundation tick however…) Lunch was followed by a wander through La Petite France which is ancient and charming. There are waterways in all directions and brightly-painted half-timbered houses dating back to the Middle Ages. The civil engineering works of Vauban are worth looking at, he has left reminders of his genius - usually by way of fortifications - in many of the places we have visited.
At one stage we had thought we might take Erewhon into the centre of Strasbourg but after looking around we decided there was no advantage in doing that so flagged the idea away.
On the Tuesday, still moored in Souffelweyersheim, we decided to cycle to Germany. ie cycle to the Rhine and over the pedestrian and cycle bridge into Germany. This was so much easier than we thought it would be because 99% of the trip was on well-maintained cycle paths which, because they largely follow the canal and river are flat. France and Germany have co-operated to develop a lovely garden on both sides of the Rhine linked by the beautiful cycle/pedestrian bridge. The idea is that it demonstrates the willingness to maintain meaningful dialogue between the two countries. The Rhine was running very quickly - so fast in fact we were pleased our plans to travel to Strasbourg via the Rhine were thwarted. A HUGE heavily laden barge went downstream while we were there. It was travelling very, very quickly indeed! The blunt bow displaced a surprising level of water in front of it which then travelled the full length of the barge like a series of large waves. The amount of water that then rose high at the stern like a rooster’s tail was indeed formidable. We understand our 6 tonne boat needs a minimum of 48hp to navigate the Rhine. We have 50hp - a bit too marginal for our liking. Having said that, the previous owners had a quick trip down the Rhine and lived to tell the tale.
From the Rhine we cycled back into Strasbourg to see a few sights we didn’t see on the Friday, mending a tyre puncture on the way. By the time we cycled back to the boat, we‘d completed a wonderful 30km journey, leaving us a little saddle sore and with no desire to ride our bikes for a day or so.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
What a day!
Tuesday 21st July was a day with many parts to it. It would certainly count as one of our most stressful…
It all began innocently enough. We had spent a lovely evening and night in the pretty village of Lutzelbourg and woke up reasonably early ready for a morning run through to Saverne. We did an engine check and while I swabbed down the dew-drenched deck C made a lovely breakfast of mushrooms on toast. We were at the lock at 8.15am, as arranged with the lock keeper the night before, and were delighted to find we were sharing the lock with only one small boat. As we were leaving the lock, a Dutchman called out to us that there was a New Zealand boat in the port in Saverne. At the time, we attached little importance to this announcement. Little did we know just how significant it would turn out to be.
Everything was going like a dream when, as we were entering the fourth lock behind the other boat, I put the boat into gear and there was the most sickening bang and growl from near the stern of the boat. I quickly put the boat into neutral and, as the other boat was in the lock waiting, I gingerly tried to put the boat into gear. She responded normally. We drifted slowly into the lock, C caught the bollard easily (we were locking down) and I put the motor in reverse to avoid climbing into the stern of the boat in front only to find no response at all! We were very close to the other boat and I quickly told C to stop the boat using the rope which fortunately she was able to do. While we were locking down, we discussed what we were going to do and decided we would let the other boat know we had a problem and we would limp along slowly in forward gear. However, when it came to leaving the lock we couldn’t move forwards or backwards. We were stranded in an empty lock.
A kind passing cyclist helped us to manoeuvre the boat to where C could climb the vertical greasy ladder (something she normally refuses to even consider) and make a call to the V.N.F. We knew there was every chance that another boat would activate the automatic lock and we would have the lock filling with our boat facing the wrong way - not the most welcome of prospects. While Catherine was making the phone call that is exactly what happened. We had secured the boat aft, mid and stern to keep her as stable as possible. I was in the lock by myself trying to make sure the boat didn’t bounce around too much. Quite scary really but not at all life threatening.
Imagine the surprise the two waiting boats got when the lock gates opened and they saw a boat pointing the wrong way! However, in true boating style, they backed up, moored their own boats and helped us to drag our boat out backwards and out of the way. It was a 15-20 minute bike ride to Saverne, the nearest port, so we tied our boat up to some bollards. We were lucky enough to be stuck in a spot where there were bollards to tie up to. C went off on her bike to see if we could get some mechanical assistance or at least the contact details of a local boat mechanic. (The V.N.F. said they do not get involved in these problems, their job is to keep the locks working.) She also took a pack and a shopping list as there was every possibility that we would be stuck there for a day or two. We knew the problem wasn’t the motor but for whatever reason the propeller wasn’t turning. At worst, we knew this might mean the boat having to come out of the water. We didn’t know where the nearest crane was and we knew the bank account could take a real hiding.
While C was off on her mission, I tried to think what the problem could be. I decided to check the stuffing box in case that was damaged and letting in water. I wanted to make sure we weren’t slowly sinking! That all seemed to be in order. It was hard to settle to do anything and at times like this your imagination can be overactive.
While I was trying to read my book there was the welcome sound of C returning with two kiwis, Adie and Lorna. C had noticed the NZ flag on their very nice barge and decided to ask them if they had any idea where one could get some assistance. When I was introduced to them, Adie said he wasn’t a mechanic but offered to have a look and see if there was anything he could do. He quickly verified the motor was working as it should but the propeller shaft was not. He then lifted the engine hatch and the problem was readily identified. A shaft comes out of the motor, and with a couple of plates and a ball and socket joint, is coupled to the propeller shaft. There are four bolts that hold the two plates together. He found one bolt had just sheared off with part of it still stuck in the hole and there was no sign at all of the other three bolts. He fossicked around in the oily/watery bilge and found all three of the missing bolts along with a few other unrelated items that had been dropped down there over the years. We have no idea how long the boat had been running with only one bolt holding the two plates together.
Boats are not always easy to work on; it is awkward to get to where problems are. Because the motor was replaced five years ago we seem to have a mish-mash of metric and imperial fittings - and a huge selection, some of which sometime fit the existing fittings. For all that, after nearly two hours from whoa to go, Adie had the boat back in working order. He was able to secure the two plates together with the help of an Allen key borrowed from the boat moored next to us. True, we have only three instead of four bolts holding the plates together but that is probably three times more than we had before!
Adie and Lorna kindly cycled abreast of us all the way in to Saverne in case we had a problem and needed to throw a rope to someone on shore. It was 4pm when we got to Saverne and there were no mooring spaces left but Adie and Lorna had fortunately invited us to raft up to their lovely barge called Ariana. C and I then had a quick bite to eat - breakfast was 8 hours earlier - and tried to re-hydrate ourselves as the temperature had been very hot all day. We’d invited Adie and Lorna to join us for a special “thank you” dinner on our boat and so we put our packs on our backs and walked to the supermarket to look for special ingredients. Lorna is a vegetarian so we had a curry planned for her and we found the best eye fillet steak for Adie. After nibbles and champagne we had a delicious platter of crudities, the main, cheeses and a fresh strawberry flan C made. We managed to do the shopping and have the meal prepared in just under two hours.
It was a magic evening, the air cooled down to a comfortable temperature and the view from the boat was stunning. At 11pm we said goodnight to our guests who only had to step back on to their own boat and we went to bed absolutely exhausted - physically and emotionally. A few hours later I woke up with a painful cramp in my leg, the result of hours of perspiring probably, which also woke up C. We were just settling down to go back to sleep when there was a violent wind storm. The noise of the flags and cockpit flapping on our boat to say nothing of the noise from all around us was huge. We were tethered fore, mid and aft to the barge and the ropes were tugging quite forcefully. We got up and checked everything as best we could. C rescued the mop off the gunnels. Other boaties - in various states of undress - were doing the same. Our herb planter was knocked over making a disconcerting thud on the roof and we hoped the two boat hooks would stay well tucked in to their possie on the deck. (They did) This lasted for nearly an hour and by then it was 5am. Tired as we were it was really difficult to get back to sleep.
Adie and Lorna made an early start to head to Lutzelbourg which meant that we had to untie ourselves from their boat, move out of the way and then thankfully move back onto the quayside in their space. Adie is confident his repairs to the boat will be sufficient until we return to St Jean de Losne when the sheared bolt will have to be removed and replaced. We know we have had a lucky escape financially and we have learnt a lot from this experience. And most of all, we count our blessings that C stopped to chat to fellow kiwis!
PS We were disappointed we didn’t manage to take one relevant photo to accompany this post. We were just too busy and distracted!
It all began innocently enough. We had spent a lovely evening and night in the pretty village of Lutzelbourg and woke up reasonably early ready for a morning run through to Saverne. We did an engine check and while I swabbed down the dew-drenched deck C made a lovely breakfast of mushrooms on toast. We were at the lock at 8.15am, as arranged with the lock keeper the night before, and were delighted to find we were sharing the lock with only one small boat. As we were leaving the lock, a Dutchman called out to us that there was a New Zealand boat in the port in Saverne. At the time, we attached little importance to this announcement. Little did we know just how significant it would turn out to be.
Everything was going like a dream when, as we were entering the fourth lock behind the other boat, I put the boat into gear and there was the most sickening bang and growl from near the stern of the boat. I quickly put the boat into neutral and, as the other boat was in the lock waiting, I gingerly tried to put the boat into gear. She responded normally. We drifted slowly into the lock, C caught the bollard easily (we were locking down) and I put the motor in reverse to avoid climbing into the stern of the boat in front only to find no response at all! We were very close to the other boat and I quickly told C to stop the boat using the rope which fortunately she was able to do. While we were locking down, we discussed what we were going to do and decided we would let the other boat know we had a problem and we would limp along slowly in forward gear. However, when it came to leaving the lock we couldn’t move forwards or backwards. We were stranded in an empty lock.
A kind passing cyclist helped us to manoeuvre the boat to where C could climb the vertical greasy ladder (something she normally refuses to even consider) and make a call to the V.N.F. We knew there was every chance that another boat would activate the automatic lock and we would have the lock filling with our boat facing the wrong way - not the most welcome of prospects. While Catherine was making the phone call that is exactly what happened. We had secured the boat aft, mid and stern to keep her as stable as possible. I was in the lock by myself trying to make sure the boat didn’t bounce around too much. Quite scary really but not at all life threatening.
Imagine the surprise the two waiting boats got when the lock gates opened and they saw a boat pointing the wrong way! However, in true boating style, they backed up, moored their own boats and helped us to drag our boat out backwards and out of the way. It was a 15-20 minute bike ride to Saverne, the nearest port, so we tied our boat up to some bollards. We were lucky enough to be stuck in a spot where there were bollards to tie up to. C went off on her bike to see if we could get some mechanical assistance or at least the contact details of a local boat mechanic. (The V.N.F. said they do not get involved in these problems, their job is to keep the locks working.) She also took a pack and a shopping list as there was every possibility that we would be stuck there for a day or two. We knew the problem wasn’t the motor but for whatever reason the propeller wasn’t turning. At worst, we knew this might mean the boat having to come out of the water. We didn’t know where the nearest crane was and we knew the bank account could take a real hiding.
While C was off on her mission, I tried to think what the problem could be. I decided to check the stuffing box in case that was damaged and letting in water. I wanted to make sure we weren’t slowly sinking! That all seemed to be in order. It was hard to settle to do anything and at times like this your imagination can be overactive.
While I was trying to read my book there was the welcome sound of C returning with two kiwis, Adie and Lorna. C had noticed the NZ flag on their very nice barge and decided to ask them if they had any idea where one could get some assistance. When I was introduced to them, Adie said he wasn’t a mechanic but offered to have a look and see if there was anything he could do. He quickly verified the motor was working as it should but the propeller shaft was not. He then lifted the engine hatch and the problem was readily identified. A shaft comes out of the motor, and with a couple of plates and a ball and socket joint, is coupled to the propeller shaft. There are four bolts that hold the two plates together. He found one bolt had just sheared off with part of it still stuck in the hole and there was no sign at all of the other three bolts. He fossicked around in the oily/watery bilge and found all three of the missing bolts along with a few other unrelated items that had been dropped down there over the years. We have no idea how long the boat had been running with only one bolt holding the two plates together.
Boats are not always easy to work on; it is awkward to get to where problems are. Because the motor was replaced five years ago we seem to have a mish-mash of metric and imperial fittings - and a huge selection, some of which sometime fit the existing fittings. For all that, after nearly two hours from whoa to go, Adie had the boat back in working order. He was able to secure the two plates together with the help of an Allen key borrowed from the boat moored next to us. True, we have only three instead of four bolts holding the plates together but that is probably three times more than we had before!
Adie and Lorna kindly cycled abreast of us all the way in to Saverne in case we had a problem and needed to throw a rope to someone on shore. It was 4pm when we got to Saverne and there were no mooring spaces left but Adie and Lorna had fortunately invited us to raft up to their lovely barge called Ariana. C and I then had a quick bite to eat - breakfast was 8 hours earlier - and tried to re-hydrate ourselves as the temperature had been very hot all day. We’d invited Adie and Lorna to join us for a special “thank you” dinner on our boat and so we put our packs on our backs and walked to the supermarket to look for special ingredients. Lorna is a vegetarian so we had a curry planned for her and we found the best eye fillet steak for Adie. After nibbles and champagne we had a delicious platter of crudities, the main, cheeses and a fresh strawberry flan C made. We managed to do the shopping and have the meal prepared in just under two hours.
It was a magic evening, the air cooled down to a comfortable temperature and the view from the boat was stunning. At 11pm we said goodnight to our guests who only had to step back on to their own boat and we went to bed absolutely exhausted - physically and emotionally. A few hours later I woke up with a painful cramp in my leg, the result of hours of perspiring probably, which also woke up C. We were just settling down to go back to sleep when there was a violent wind storm. The noise of the flags and cockpit flapping on our boat to say nothing of the noise from all around us was huge. We were tethered fore, mid and aft to the barge and the ropes were tugging quite forcefully. We got up and checked everything as best we could. C rescued the mop off the gunnels. Other boaties - in various states of undress - were doing the same. Our herb planter was knocked over making a disconcerting thud on the roof and we hoped the two boat hooks would stay well tucked in to their possie on the deck. (They did) This lasted for nearly an hour and by then it was 5am. Tired as we were it was really difficult to get back to sleep.
Adie and Lorna made an early start to head to Lutzelbourg which meant that we had to untie ourselves from their boat, move out of the way and then thankfully move back onto the quayside in their space. Adie is confident his repairs to the boat will be sufficient until we return to St Jean de Losne when the sheared bolt will have to be removed and replaced. We know we have had a lucky escape financially and we have learnt a lot from this experience. And most of all, we count our blessings that C stopped to chat to fellow kiwis!
PS We were disappointed we didn’t manage to take one relevant photo to accompany this post. We were just too busy and distracted!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Nancy
When a native speaker of English looks at a map of France, Nancy is one of the place names (like Paris and Nice) that jumps out at you. I suppose it is because of the familiarity of the word in unexpected surroundings. For us, Nancy (pronounced more like ‘nonsee’ than the English girl’s name) has been our first destination since we left St-Jean-de-Losne in June, canal closures in September having forced a re-think even before that. “We’ll go up the Saone and the Canal des Vosges to Nancy and then we’ll make up our minds about where to go from there depending on time and what people tell us.” It was also to be our point of rendez-vous with C’s German friends, Uli and Detlef, who were to join us on the boat for a few days and jointly celebrate Bastille Day. We’d made those arrangements at a couple of weeks’ notice.
Nancy has a unique situation, lying on a circle in the waterways that is made up of the Nancy Branch Canal, part of the Moselle and a section of the Marne-Rhine Canal. Like St-Jean-de-Losne, it gives access to numerous possible itineraries on the waterways - to Strasbourg, to Luxembourg, to Germany, to the north of France and to the east, as well as south from whence we had come. The shortest - and most obvious - way for us to go to Nancy was to take the Nancy Branch Canal - a 14km trip from near the top of the Canal des Vosges. We’d had countless conversations about our intentions with boaties, port personnel, lockkeepers and other staff of the VNF (who look after the waterways) but it wasn’t until we got to Epinal, just 50km from the turn-off, that we were told that the Branch Canal was closed due to some form of blockage. You would have thought someone might have mentioned it sooner! Perhaps there might have been a notice or two posted at a lock along the way, or perhaps some information on the VNF website - but no, nothing. It would be understandable if the closure was recent - these things can happen quite suddenly - but it had been closed since May 2008!
We would have enjoyed a longer, leisurely stay in Epinal, where mooring costs just 4 euros a night and includes water, electricity and showers, and where the city is compact enough to be easily manageable and big enough to offer a full range of shops and services. What’s more, the people who ran the port there were amongst the loveliest we have met. But with people to meet, we now had a deadline for getting to Nancy and 54km had just been added to our journey!
In fact, we made it comfortably as a large proportion of the extra distance was on the Moselle and you can go faster on rivers than canals - firstly because there is no speed limit (other than that of the boat, which is still quite limited!) and there are many fewer locks. That said, these are huge commercial locks and the lockkeepers have the right to make pleasure craft wait for up to two hours if there are water shortages or (seemingly), if they happen to be having a bad day.
We arrived in Nancy around mid-morning on the 11th of July, the perfect time to find a mooring, even in a busy port even in the height of the holiday period. That gave us a couple of days to rest a little, clean up, do the laundry, get in supplies and familiarise ourselves with the city before Uli and Detlef arrived.
It was the first time in Nancy for both of us; in fact, for all of us and I think we were all pretty impressed. The capital of the region of Lorraine is a beautiful city, relatively flat and very cycle-friendly, well set out with lots of well-developed public spaces and gardens. Its most striking feature, is the Place Stanislas - an enormous, formally laid-out open square featuring a beautiful ensemble of municipal buildings, statues, fountains and, of course, many cafes. The square and the surrounding old part of the city are recognised by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site.
I think it’s fair to say that our stay in Nancy was marked by two things: “sound and light”, and languages. On our guests’ first night with us, we decided to go and see the Sound and Light show, which takes place at the Place Stanislas every evening in summer at 10:45pm. We got the extended version! The sheet lightning started well before the show did, lighting up the sky in all directions, and we will swear that the first raindrop fell at exactly the moment the real show started. We watched the wondrously imaginative projections on the front of the town hall building under umbrellas accompanied by booming thunder, more lightning and pounding rain, which eased off to nothing just as the show came to an end. Talk about impeccable timing!
We were “treated” to more rain and thunderstorms the following day and abandoned the idea of going to see the planned 14th of July fireworks display. We were almost certain that it would be cancelled because of the weather and none of us really fancied the idea of another late-night drenching. The fireworks did take place, however, and one of us managed to ignore the sound effects as we tried to go off to sleep…
Languages were a feature of the stay because C and Uli have always used French to communicate - both being French teachers and having met during a course for French teachers. J manages in survival French and has no German; Detlef has no French and very limited English but does pretty well in international sign and body language. C has very rusty German which got pushed into action through necessity during the visit. Needless to say, conversations were a confusing mish-mash of all three languages - sometimes with bits of all three featuring in the one sentence. Fortunately the desire to understand and be understood was equally strong all round and it is amazing what an asset that can be to such multi-lingual and multi-cultural conversations! To add to the experience, we had navigated the last leg through to Nancy with a lovely German couple, Claus and Irene. Both spoke excellent English as well as German, of course, and Irene could add French, Dutch and Indonesian to the mix. We had drinks together on two evenings; the first hosted on our boat, the second on theirs. The conversation flowed as fast as the drinks in all directions and switching across the three languages - it was both manic and magic! We left Nancy after six enjoyable days and made the decision to head for Strasbourg.
C with Uli and Detlef
Nancy has a unique situation, lying on a circle in the waterways that is made up of the Nancy Branch Canal, part of the Moselle and a section of the Marne-Rhine Canal. Like St-Jean-de-Losne, it gives access to numerous possible itineraries on the waterways - to Strasbourg, to Luxembourg, to Germany, to the north of France and to the east, as well as south from whence we had come. The shortest - and most obvious - way for us to go to Nancy was to take the Nancy Branch Canal - a 14km trip from near the top of the Canal des Vosges. We’d had countless conversations about our intentions with boaties, port personnel, lockkeepers and other staff of the VNF (who look after the waterways) but it wasn’t until we got to Epinal, just 50km from the turn-off, that we were told that the Branch Canal was closed due to some form of blockage. You would have thought someone might have mentioned it sooner! Perhaps there might have been a notice or two posted at a lock along the way, or perhaps some information on the VNF website - but no, nothing. It would be understandable if the closure was recent - these things can happen quite suddenly - but it had been closed since May 2008!
We would have enjoyed a longer, leisurely stay in Epinal, where mooring costs just 4 euros a night and includes water, electricity and showers, and where the city is compact enough to be easily manageable and big enough to offer a full range of shops and services. What’s more, the people who ran the port there were amongst the loveliest we have met. But with people to meet, we now had a deadline for getting to Nancy and 54km had just been added to our journey!
In fact, we made it comfortably as a large proportion of the extra distance was on the Moselle and you can go faster on rivers than canals - firstly because there is no speed limit (other than that of the boat, which is still quite limited!) and there are many fewer locks. That said, these are huge commercial locks and the lockkeepers have the right to make pleasure craft wait for up to two hours if there are water shortages or (seemingly), if they happen to be having a bad day.
We arrived in Nancy around mid-morning on the 11th of July, the perfect time to find a mooring, even in a busy port even in the height of the holiday period. That gave us a couple of days to rest a little, clean up, do the laundry, get in supplies and familiarise ourselves with the city before Uli and Detlef arrived.
It was the first time in Nancy for both of us; in fact, for all of us and I think we were all pretty impressed. The capital of the region of Lorraine is a beautiful city, relatively flat and very cycle-friendly, well set out with lots of well-developed public spaces and gardens. Its most striking feature, is the Place Stanislas - an enormous, formally laid-out open square featuring a beautiful ensemble of municipal buildings, statues, fountains and, of course, many cafes. The square and the surrounding old part of the city are recognised by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site.
I think it’s fair to say that our stay in Nancy was marked by two things: “sound and light”, and languages. On our guests’ first night with us, we decided to go and see the Sound and Light show, which takes place at the Place Stanislas every evening in summer at 10:45pm. We got the extended version! The sheet lightning started well before the show did, lighting up the sky in all directions, and we will swear that the first raindrop fell at exactly the moment the real show started. We watched the wondrously imaginative projections on the front of the town hall building under umbrellas accompanied by booming thunder, more lightning and pounding rain, which eased off to nothing just as the show came to an end. Talk about impeccable timing!
We were “treated” to more rain and thunderstorms the following day and abandoned the idea of going to see the planned 14th of July fireworks display. We were almost certain that it would be cancelled because of the weather and none of us really fancied the idea of another late-night drenching. The fireworks did take place, however, and one of us managed to ignore the sound effects as we tried to go off to sleep…
Languages were a feature of the stay because C and Uli have always used French to communicate - both being French teachers and having met during a course for French teachers. J manages in survival French and has no German; Detlef has no French and very limited English but does pretty well in international sign and body language. C has very rusty German which got pushed into action through necessity during the visit. Needless to say, conversations were a confusing mish-mash of all three languages - sometimes with bits of all three featuring in the one sentence. Fortunately the desire to understand and be understood was equally strong all round and it is amazing what an asset that can be to such multi-lingual and multi-cultural conversations! To add to the experience, we had navigated the last leg through to Nancy with a lovely German couple, Claus and Irene. Both spoke excellent English as well as German, of course, and Irene could add French, Dutch and Indonesian to the mix. We had drinks together on two evenings; the first hosted on our boat, the second on theirs. The conversation flowed as fast as the drinks in all directions and switching across the three languages - it was both manic and magic! We left Nancy after six enjoyable days and made the decision to head for Strasbourg.
C with Uli and Detlef
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