Gallic Peregrinations #4. Zeebrugge or bust!

Several folks have asked for some sort of map, to assist their visualization of our route, from the junction of the River Soane with the Canal du Bourgogne, to Zeebrugge, in Belgium. Appropriate images are not easy to come by (old dogs ... new tricks, etc.) but herewith are a couple of stabs with which I am attempting to fulfil such requests. I don't really have the technical skills or the apps/programs to do this stuff. This, to the right, is a very basic outline of the most major French inland waterways.

This, to the left, is concentrating (more or less) on the area through which lies our route ... 

 ... and below is a screen-shot of our actual route. Make of these whatever you will!

At this juncture, I must point out that this section of Watery Peregrinations is by no stretch of the imagination in 'real time'. Cruising days have often been quite extended, and after a long day a meal and couple of glasses of something restorative were the most we could achieve, before dropping - exhausted - into bed.

For those of you with a mind to construct a more detailed overview: you might make a chart for yourselves, along this (far from exhaustive) list of places ...

Plombiers les Dijon - St. Jean de Losne - Auxonne - Dampierre - Balsemes-sur-Marne - Langres - Rolampont - Foulain - Chaumont - Froncles - Joinville - St. Dizier - Vitry-le-Francois - Châlons-en-Champagne - Condé-sur-Marne - Reims - Compiègne ... which brings us onto the Canal-du-Nord

 ... where we got to play with the 'big boys'!!!

(Well we thought they were big boys, until things like these hove into view.)

"Ye're not on the Leeds/Liverpool Canal now, Tommy!"

(Spoiler alert ... wait 'til you see what's coming towards us in Zeebrugge!)

These were the average size boats we met, heading northwards along Canal latéral à l'Oise  until we joined the Canal du Nord, proper.

However: the pay-off for us was at the northern end of that canal, at Arleux, the home of the world-famous SMOKED GARLIC!!!

Thusly: next morning, between 'petit-déjeuner' and casting-off, we went on a hunt for the fabled Smoked Garlic. It being quite early (unusual for Lyn and me), not many grocery shops were open, but we eventually chanced upon 'A La Petit Ferme'.

Although it was too early in the year for the town's annual 'Smoked Garlic Festival., we purchased some of last year's crop ... and now VDN has an aroma redolent of a French sailing-ship's rope locker!!!

Continuing with our odyssey: rather than go on the River Lys - through southern Belgium, where the recent floods had not long subsided - we decided that the coastal route: through Dunkerque and the Low Countries, past Niewpoort, Oostend and Bruges; would be the better route.

In retrospect: this could be seen as a poor decision. From the western outskirts of Dunkerque, through the Belgian (coastal) canals, and all the way to Bruges: we were dogged with a litany of faulty locks, non-opening bridges, high winds, and un-cooperative waterways personnel (we're not talking about you, Patrick, in Dunkerque!). A journey which should have taken about ten hours, took two and a half - stressful and aggravating days ... best glossed over.

Zeebrugge is a tale of woe unto itself. Next time ... 

Gallic Peregrinations #3 Being chased by a hydraulic pump!

I did, previously, mention that the erstwhile owner of VDN is no longer sharing this earthly plane with us . . . leading to the almost complete lack of any sort of hand-over, from a person knowledgeable about the workings of this boat. This has engendered multifarious frustrations, which I shall: occasionally as we go along; enumerate (in no particular order) as M.F. #1, etc., etc..

M.F. #1 - Only some, about 50%, of the 12volt switches: on the power distribution panel; are labelled/identified . . . and some that are marked, are marked incorrectly!

VDN is equipped with a bow-thruster mechanism of the hydraulic kind; driven directly from the 5-cylinder, 64HP, Beta Marine diesel engine; and a fairly powerful beast it is! That's when it is working!!! It hasn't be in the best of health for quite some time, and if we're going to have this piece of kit, 'twere best it works correctly. The engineers (I use the term loosely) at Atelier Fluvial, diagnosed an incorrect alignment of the pump coupling; requiring a new coupling and heavy-duty bracket, plus - what appeared to me to be - a brand new pump! I had my suspicions about its operation and, as the first few days of the trip progressed, my suspicions grew to near certainty. By the time I made meaningful contact with A.F., we were nearly at St. Dizier; to where young Guillaume was dispatched, to deal with the issue. 

Guillaume is very shy, but the black lump is the star of the show.

Now Guillaume has almost zero English; certainly much less than my acquaintanceship with HIS mother-tongue. But by resorting to the magic of Google Translate, I brought him round to my thoughts that a mating face, on the inlet side of the pump, was allowing the escape of a small drip of hydraulic fluid whilst the pump was rotating, but not working, and a consequent ingress of air when the pump was being called upon to push the front end of VDN, to the right or the left (Starboard and Port, to those of you of a nautical bent). As the joint in question had not been undone since leaving the factory, I certainly did not fault G’s workmanship. Off he went with a huge chunk of cast-steel, whilst we proceeded along our tortuous route (vaguely) Nor'-nor'-west; having first explored the offerings of an excellent Italian restaurant, in Saint Dizier's central square, and the historic fortifications of the town.

Guillaume next caught up with us in Reims, where our greatest challenge was correctly pronouncing 'Reims'! I won’t bore you with our many and various - and incorrect - attempts at articulation, which caused a mixture of hilarity, eye-rolling and lip-curling. The nearest we could grasp was that the ‘m’ is pronounced as an ‘n’, and the ‘s’ as a ‘ce’; all uttered with a throat-clearing kind of bark! A word not totally unlike: ‘Wraunce’, but with a Pythonesque usage of the tonsils!

Back to the engineering issue . . . it was fixed. Nuff said! With all engineering issues having been dealt with (Did I mention the ‘hot battery’ concern? Never mind. I sorted that out for myself, with the e-mail aid of my electrical guru: Jim Latimer; and the removal of one battery, like very heavy piece of dentistry.)

M.F. #2 I'm sure that Jacques had a perfectly sound reason for the meandering, and confusing, wiring around the battery charger and 2kw. inverter, but I shall wait until our Irish electrician: Damian; casts an experienced eye on that particular ball of knitting.

By-the-by; Reims cathedral is impressive in the extreme; though I was enjoined to ‘sling my hook’, merely for rendering the first verse and refrain of John Tams’ ‘Only Remembered’.

(No appreciation of the folk arts, these French security guards!!!) 

At Vitry-le-Francois we had completed our passage on the Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne and been making our way (again, vaguely) Nor’-west, on the Canal de l'Aisne à la Marne. The highlight (or, according to your point of view, the low-point) of that was 'Le Tunnel de Billy' - under Mont de Billy - a mere 2.3 kms. Not a scratch! I'm getting the hang of these tunnels.

Now: onwards to the Canal lateral to the Marne.

Gallic Peregrinations #2, St. Jean de Losne to the top of the hill.

SALUT! (Sounds like: 'sal-you'.) I'm sure I mentioned, earlier, somewhere, that the telling of this tale was likely to be 'non-linear', and thus it shall prove to be.

Prior to starting out where last I left you, gentle reader, I was enjoined to notice that I was far from qualified to be in charge of the boat intended for the journey we were envisaging. Whilst Lyn and I had, prior to leaving Ireland, investigated the qualifications necessary; in large part due to the current world-wide health emergency; no person or organization willing and able to supply such qualifications, was available in Ireland. Turning to United Kingdom sources: we ascertained that the Royal Yachting Association could - in normal times - supply such requirements . . . i.e. an International Certificate of Competence (I.C.C.). However . . . that qualification consists of two, separate parts: the theory and the practice! The theoretical part: the C.E.V.N.I. (Code Européen des Voies de la Navigation Intérieure), and the practical part: in this case the RYA's 'Helmsman's Certificate.

Now, this last, is a qualification Lyn and I received many moons ago. However: where the paperwork for it might be, neither of us could remember. Sadly, upon enquiring of the RYA, they informed us that they only kept records for five years!!! Again: due to pandemic circumstances; testing for this part of the I.C.C. was 'suspended for the duration of hostilities', both in Ireland and the U.K..

Coming to the rescue, allow us to present Steve and Jo Bridges (of Buzet-sur-Baïse, South West France, on the Canal de Garonne) who's lovely, 21 metre barge: 'SOMEWHERE' provides the platform for the requisite training and examination; whilst Steve and Jo provide the training. (Jo also provides excellent hospitality and scrumptious cuisine, and SOMEWHERE does double-duty as a luxurious, and exclusive, cruising hotel.

Check out: https://www.bargecraft.com/) So, off we went on a 3-day, 1,200 Km. round-trip to the South Of France. That, in itself, is a tale worthy of telling . . . at some later date. Suffice it to say that I feel relieved to have set out on this voyage, suitably qualified; or at least confident that I wouldn't be arrested for 'driving without a licence!

Here are Jo and Steve, with SOMEWHERE providing a suitably scenic backdrop.

Now . . . where was I? Ah, yes: the Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne (that last is 'Burgundy'. to you and me), which used to be called the Canal de la Marne à la Saône; connecting two big rivers, separated by a very large hill. If the name was changed by some tourism consultant, to attract more people to use it . . . it didn't work! There are a lot of locks (42 'up', 71 'down'; in 224 kilometres) and short - average about two kilometres - pounds. On a British canal, this would make for a lot of heavy work; but the French decided there was a better way. At the very first lock/écluse we were met by an éclusier/lock-keeper, who handed us a piece of kit which looked like a 1990's remote control . . . and such (sort of) it turned out to be! Pressing a button, whilst about half a kilometre from a lock, instituted an automatic system to prepare the lock for our entry. Once safely ensconced in the lock, pressing another button closed the lock-gates behind the boat, and instituted the procedure to, appropriately, flood or drain the lock, and: et voila; open the gates in front of the boat at the appropriate moment. Wonderful! On the very few occasions when this technology failed: a short telephone call - in our 'exécrable Franglaise' - would bring an éclusier, in five or ten minutes. This made us somewhat blasé about climbing up through many miles of grain fields, but at least it didn't exhaust us. The weather, whilst we were delayed in St. Usage/St. Jean de Losne, had been glorious, so we, and our new friends, spent quite a bit of time of VDN's upper deck; where we were high enough to enjoy any vagrant breezes, and take advantage of the welcome shade provided our 'bimini'.

Back in Ireland, hopefully, it will do similar service for the 'liquid sunshine. 😉

Three days got us to the top, and the dreaded five-kilometre tunnel. However, it was well lit and well ventilated, so five minutes of terror, quickly became an hour of dimly-lit ennui. (See how my French is improving?) Au revoir, Tom.