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6.3 days, dry, warm to hot pm, mostly windy
113 km – 71 ml – 60 locks – 24 hrs

12 April: So we are now off the big rivers and looking forward to cruising more gently and without so much log-dodging, albeit with a lot more locks to work through (this canal has the most locks per km on the system).

We know from the guide books that the first lock is going to be tall but a 35ft rise is a remarkable introduction to any canal system! Like the river locks, it has floating bollards which will rise with us but, like the river locks, they are so far apart that we can only use one of them. This is not ideal and it doesn’t make much difference whether you use one fore-and-aft rope looped round the bollard amidships, or one rope from each end of the boat. However, in this case, we rise slowly and controlling the boat is not difficult.

When we reach the top we are met by a very pleasant lock-keeper who notes down who we are, our destination and where we intend to stop tonight. That seems fair enough, and how nice to meet an actual lock-keeper, in person. Not that she was very busy judging by the wet-line half way up the lock wall, which suggests she is leaving the lock half full waiting for someone to approach from one direction or the other.

We are planning to do 12 locks today and, as we proceed, it’s interesting to note the variations. Some are linked together in notional chains, some have lock-keepers, some not, some are powered and operated with pull-rods and some are manual. We are not allowed to operate these on our own and suspect there is an element of job-protection going on – how French.

One thing they do have in common though is the water cascading over the gate-tops.

We have a strange mooring experience at Chagny. Here there is a lovely little council-run (we think) new marina but we can’t get out through the locked gate. A notice advises that it is attended at certain hours so we pour a beer and wait. Nobody turns up and eventually we shift onto a bank nearby. By coincidence, two canal staff we met earlier turn up and, when we explain our plight, they shrug. How French.

13 April: An early start this morning (early for us at least) after an English hotel barge skipper helpfully suggests we get off along the canal before he does, as he is likely to be really slow and there will be nowhere to overtake him. We do so, and find that we reach St Leger at least two hours before he does. Thanks mate.

We stop on an empty pontoon in a pre-season Locoboat centre. It’s fine except Marie suffers a luke-warm shower. Richard and Colin don’t bother.

We are starting to enjoy the canal life and some of its lovely villages and towns, such as St leger, often with good restaurants and/or boulangeries. St Leger has both.

Contrary to what we’ve read, many places do still have a viable boulangerie or patisserie, despite Covid. Taking full advantage of this, Richard (who is by now called l’homme de pain) has adopted a routine honed to perfection on the Canal du Midi a few years ago. He seeks out a decent boulangerie after we’ve moored up for the evening, and in the morning goes for croissants, pains au chocolat and a baton while the coffee is brewing and the table is being laid. Good man!

14 April: We will have to work quite hard today, with the aim of reaching the summit level of the canal at Montchanin by ascending 19 locks, in what is now warmer weather.

Ascending the first two locks sees the steerer cock things up, seemingly innocuously at first but in fact scratching Allons-Y‘s expensive gel-coat on both sides. The crew is also having a difficult day. Apart from the sheer number of locks, we are finding that it is sometimes difficult to put someone ashore to set the lock, and some locks are almost violent once the sluices are opened, about which there is nothing we can do once we have pulled the switch-rod. Richard would no doubt have volunteered to leap onto the banks anyway, but Marie’s poorly leg leaves him little choice. Photos of his exploits were confiscated at the airport.

We also motor through a lot of weed and small debris, forcing us to stop twice to investigate the rising engine temperature. Not very hot but worth looking at. It turns out that we have a blocked water inlet, with virtually no water getting up to the strainer at all. A craftily straightened wire coat-hanger sorts it out.

We do get to the summit eventually though, and enjoy a well-earned drink.

15 April: It is Good Friday today and we start to descend some locks for the first time in this voyage – hooray. It’s not all good news though, as the locks are overflowing which does not leave much lock-side for the fenders to sit against, and the wind isn’t helping. However, after our previous scratching event, the crew are keeping a close eye on things and are holding the boat away from the side when necessary.

We see another boat moving today (!) before arriving at Montceau-les-Mines around lunchtime. At this point, we are met by a locked lock, i.e. it is chained shut! A charmless woman (the lock-keeper as it turns out) waves us away and shouts that is lunchtime and to come back later. So we do an about-turn and retreat to do some shopping at the nearby supermarket, which has its own little quay just the right size for Allons-Y, and enjoy a light lunch on board.

Montceau is attractive and has a sizeable marina. However, the saga of missing or inadequate facilities continues in no less than three ways. First, the modern marina office is shut and unmanned. According to helpful lady in the adjacent Tourist Information office, the staff member is at a meeting today and will be back in the morning! She gives us a key to the modern shower block and Richard and Colin take advantage of this right away, only to need another shower by the time they have got dressed in the windowless and airless sauna it has now become. We suspect the ventilation system has not been turned on yet – perhaps it will be by May. Finally, the marina water supply does not issue forth any water. In the morning, the said staff member explains in sign-language that they have a leak. Another example of insouciance, non?

In stark contrast to the marina reception (one of many contrasts we experience in France) we have the best meal to date in le Bis wine bar, and far from expensive too.

16 April: With another 25 miles and 14 locks in plan for today, we are sorry not to be able to explore the extensive market, right next to the marina, before we leave.

Departing from Montceau-les-Mines is interesting, with its three lift-bridges of deliberately contrasting designs. The third one (not shown here) is a bascule bridge like Tower Bridge – but without the towers of course. It is strange cruising alongside the morning traffic, with it having to stop to let us through when commanded by the centrally-placed gate operator. He seems to know we are coming (cameras?) and opens the bridges quickly, with only a short pause for us at the first one.

Later on, we fall foul of an automatic lock-operating system. We enter a lock but the gates fail to close. Eventually a lockie comes out in a van and resets the system. It seems we entered the lock before the sensors were ready for us. Oops.

A more amusing incident starts with an elderly gent (i.e. about our age) waving us down ahead of another lock. A tree-trunk is jammed in the lock gate. The nice man has already called the VNF (waterways authority) and soon a very fit and strong young lady, sans VNF uniform, pitches up and she and Colin manage to pull the obstruction up onto the lock-side together. No doubt it was the effort that made Colin look a bit hot and bothered.

At our last lock of the day, Sebastien the itinerant lock-keeper who looks after this stretch of the canal (or who was looking after it for us at least) asked us what time we would be leaving in the morning, then gave us his phone number to call on departure, so he could ready the next lock for us. You don’t get that on the Thames!

Our final stop on the Canal du Centre is at the agreeable Paray-le-Monial where, for a change, we find ourselves in an Italian restaurant. Only French is spoken here but we muddle through. It is so busy that we are encouraged to order our coffees and settle up away from our table, i.e. through the door and into – the shop! How French.

17 April (am): As arranged, we call Sebastien’s number (see above) but get a recorded message, far too fast for us to understand. So we push off to the first lock of the day hoping it will be ready, especially as we had given him our eta. But the gates are shut and the electrics are off. No sign of Sebastien. Could it be because it’s Easter Sunday? We try the number a couple more times with the same result, then a rare local passer-by kindly listens to the message and translates it for us – unobtainable number! We have been here for maybe 20 minutes already and are out of ideas. We are reluctant to call VNF as we didn’t fancy describing our predicament in French to someone somewhere in the equivalent of the Canal and Rivers Trust. Finally, 50 minutes after our stated eta, Sebastien arrived and switched everything on. No bonjour, no apology, not even a shrug. More insouciance, definitely.

The final few miles and locks on the ‘Centre’ are uneventful.

Progress so far
590 km – 369 ml – 76 locks – 77 hrs

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Early in 2022, Colin’s ever-active and generous cousin Howard invited us to transfer his rather nice Haines 32 Offshore cruiser Allons-Y from Aigues Mortes in southern France to his friend Yves’ home near Rouen. He was, typically, asking us to do him a favour while in reality doing us a favour!

The issue was that Howard needed to get the boat back to the UK before being liable for a massive VAT hit, despite having already paid VAT on the boat in the UK (probably best not to get into Brexit here). The requirement was to get her out of the EU before mid-year, something that he was unable to do himself.

So our mission, should we choose to accept it, was to get down to the boat in Aigues Mortes and cruise it up through the French waterways in time for Howard to bring it back across the Channel, realistically by around the end of May if possible. Simple enough.

Or so we thought.

With a little diary management, a crew comprising Colin, Marie and friend Richard (who has crewed with us before and surprisingly come back for more) could be available to take this task on, albeit more as a challenge and adventure than a holiday. With nearly 750 miles and 200 locks to tackle, and an average crew-age of 75, this was not a voyage to be taken lightly. Especially as it would involve going the ‘wrong’ way up the Rhone in Spring, with its potentially high winds (the Mistral), strong currents and occasional flooding.

Was it strange, or just inconvenient, that all the guide books and online resources we found were written travelling the other way, i.e. to the south, generally in season and in good weather? Not at all strange, as it turned out. The fact that we subsequently voyaged for many hours, sometimes for whole days, without seeing another vessel going our way suggests that only ‘mad dogs and Englishmen go up the River Rhone in Spring’ (with apologies to Noel Coward).

Anyway, we chose to accept the challenge before the cassette tape self-destructed. Carpe diem.

<<<<

Section 3 of the voyage, the last part of our adventure, divides into:

• the Upper Seine down to Paris >>>>
• a day of leisure in the city >>>>
• on down the Lower Seine to finish at Port Pinche >>>>
• a weekend with Yves and Julien before returning home >>>>

This involves covering 177 miles and 15 Seine locks.

Overall, we will have travelled 738 miles and negotiated 184 locks.

<<<<

Section 2 of our voyage sees us crossing the centre of France on its extensive canal system, stretching westwards from the River Saone at Chalons then north to the Seine at St Mammes.

We tackle 263 miles and 153 locks across four canals:

• Canal du Centre, rising from the Saone then falling again to approach the Loire at Digoin >>>>
• Canal Latéral à la Loire, following the course of the Loire valley and eventually crossing it at great height >>>>
• Canal de Braire, rising from Briare via our final ascending locks (good) and down again to Buges >>>>
• Canal du Loing, descending northwards towards Paris, terminating at St Mammes >>>>

• which is where we turn left onto the famous River Seine >>>>

<<<<

Section 1 of our voyage takes us, after a delayed start, 298 miles northwards and through 16 locks, some of which are huge:

• from Aigues Mortes along the Canal du Rhone a Sete and the Petit Rhone to join the main Rhone near Beaucaire >>>>
• up the Rhone to its confluence with the Saone at Lyon >>>>
• on up the Saone past Macon >>>>
• to an ‘interesting’ stop-over at Chalons-sur-Saone >>>>

• after which we turn left onto the canals >>>>

<<<<

This was an exercise in travelling the French waterways:

• in the wrong direction >>>>
• in the wrong sort of boat >>>>
• at the wrong time of year >>>>
• at the wrong time of life >>>>
• and enjoying the experience as much as possible >>>>

So, all things considered, are we glad we went? With so many positives (see ‘enjoying’ above) that’s a firm ‘yes’.

Would we do the same trip again next April? Probably not.

However, if we had an inland cruiser/barge (with heating and a shower cubicle) slightly later in the year (warmer weather and weaker currents) it might be a different matter!

Dream on…

<<<<

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a night of unrest and a day of rest

10 April (cont’d): It is bed-time on the visitors’ pontoon in a now rather debris-strewn Chalons-sur-Saone marina. As we attempt to go to sleep, we are disturbed by frequent knocking and scraping noises on the hull as tree branches and the like are swept through the marina, bashing into Allons-Y as they go past. That’s ok, we will soon get used to it and everything will be fine in the morning.

Or so we imagine.

11 April 0200: Colin wakes to an eerie silence. Has someone magically turned off the river flow? Have we been swept out of the marina along with the waterlogged trees, and are even now sweeping noiselessly downriver towards the next power station and its massive sluices, and impending disaster? Donning jeans and jacket over his pj’s, he goes up to investigate. Mon dieu! we have half a French forest rammed up against our bow, forcing the pointy-end away from the pontoon and stretching the mooring lines drum-tight.

The reason for the sudden silence is explained by a tree-trunk, about eight inches in diameter and longer than the boat, becoming trapped partly under and partly alongside our hull, creating a barrier which is now fending off most of the incoming countryside instead of the hull having to do that.

There is no obvious course of action here: the logs are far too heavy and crammed together by the current to shift, there are no marina staff and it is dark. If we were to cast off and head for somewhere better, there is a chance that the thrusters and/or prop would be jammed. This would not be an attractive prospect anywhere, let alone on the Rhone in the middle of the night.

So every available rope is deployed to reinforce the mooring lines. Little can be done at this stage to relieve the fenders being squeezed against the pontoon towards the stern of the boat, other than add as many springs as possible, and tighten them hard.

0430: The lines are checked again, just in case things are getting dangerous. Fortunately there is little change and no need to abandon ship!

This is just as well, as it would necessitate waking the crew. Richard, who was as sober is he usually is before going to bed, sleeps through the whole episode like a baby. Talk about relaxed…

0800: The marina guys show up and are very helpful, and with pretty good English too. They have clearly seen this all before, and assure us there was no point in trying to shift the debris, it simply could not be done manually. Better to simply cast off (with the engine running!) and drift to the lower end of the marina together with the log-jam and let it separate itself from the boat. To help make this happen, the chaps agree to walk alongside Allons-Y with the lines and pull her round the end of the pontoon a little before finally having to let go.

This works like a dream and the boat separates nicely from the rubbish. With a little reverse gear at first to ensure the prop is clear, we are away and promptly motoring round to a more sheltered inside berth.

Before that though, the marina staff refuse to let us move into the marina proper, on the grounds that the stream is too strong to manoeuvre safely among the other boats! However, they soon relent and might even be impressed with how easily we slip into our new home, with a just touch of thruster as required. If so, they don’t mention it. Anyway, we are now tucked in nicely and can think about breakfast.

Today was supposed to be for exploring the delights of Chalon-sur-Saone. However, after such a busy start to the day plus sorting out the paperwork in the office, there is really only time for Marie and Richard to discover that it is a pleasant town with an attractive river frontage, while Colin has a welcome afternoon nap.

Progress this far
477 km – 298 ml – 16 locks – 53 hrs

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This page
2.7 days, cold, fog, rainy spells & sun, windy
164 km – 102 ml – 3 locks – 18 hrs

8 April pm: We have now left Lyon behind us and are continuing up the River Saone. Anxious once more about finding somewhere to stop, preferably with food, electricity and showers, we have called ahead to the small-boat marina at Genay to reserve a place.

It turns out to be a friendly little set-up complete with a crowded, if scruffy, boat-yard. The pontoons are very short but we manage to moor up securely, and of course we are out of the river’s flow – which seems as strong as the Rhone’s most of the time. A bonus is that there is an attractive restaurant right next to the boats, and they have a table for us. Unlike the marina, it is quite smart and quite expensive.

Across in one corner of the slightly oily yard, we are shown the ‘shower block’ which is a run-down shed with a hole-in-the-ground toilet and an old-fashoined shower cubicle, plus an ingenious home-made device for locking the door and switching the light on. Howard would have been proud of the idea but not the welding thereof. Marie is keen to give the shower a go – and it is brilliant!

We then enjoy another fantastic meal, in a dining room full of sociable French folk arriving by car for a Saturday evening meal, before retiring for the night.

9 April: It has stopped raining by the time we pull up at Trevaux for bread and bandages (Marie’s knee, damaged in Teignmouth, is still really painful) and posh tarts. A pleasant, bustling little town with steep streets and queues at the Saturday market stalls.

Now it’s on up the river in intermittent rain towards Macon, without the time to explore more towns or villages.

Macon’s marina is in walking distance from a supermarket and has working fuel pumps too. With our tanks about half full, we decide to fill up, this time at an even more reasonable 1.70 per litre. Colin gets caught in another shower, having gone shopping without a raincoat.

More great nosh in the marina restaurant then off to bed early, as it is still very cold at night.

10 April: We awake to fog!

Once we have finished breakfast and cleared most of the condensation from the windows (a regular morning task but a lot worse today) we think the mist is beginning to thin out so we put the radar on and head out onto the river. Again we have a strong current, 2 knots or more judging by the bow-wave at each channel marker. We also continue to have tree-trunks and cut logs to dodge, but at least the radar is helping us keep station as well as acting as our rear-view mirror.

As the fog disperses around mid-morning, we are treated to further delightful scenery and riverside villages. It’s a fairly short run to Chalons so we can stick to a more modest 10 kph (5.5 knots) while consuming 12 lph.

We arrive at the substantial Chalons-sur-Saone marina for two nights to find a long, vacant pontoon and surmise that it’s for visitors. We also note that the marina office is closed (it’s a Sunday!), that the water level is high and that there is a strong current running towards and under the boat.

A little later, we observe a distinct lack of fuel pumps on the fuel dock! We’re so glad we managed to fill up at Macon. That means three of our five possible filling-stations have been out of operation so it is just as well that we are now about to turn onto the canal system and start pottering.

Nevertheless, although we’ve only seen one vessel on the move all day, we are are relieved to be in the relatively sheltered waters of a port de plaisance.

Or so we imagine…

Progress this far
477 km – 298 ml – 16 locks – 53 hrs

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This page
3.3 days, bright then dull, cold, evening rain
227 km – 142 ml – 11 locks – 25 hrs

5 April: After a rather disappointing visit to Avignon we are a little anxious as to where we will stop for the next few nights, especially as we suspect some places are closed until the season starts – generally on 1 May but Easter and 15 May are also mooted.

Anyway, we push on into a northerly wind and maybe a 3 knot current (difficult to be sure, as the boat has no speedo as such – see info >>>>) in a hopeful frame of mind.

A highlight is ascending the massive Rhone locks (see info >>>>) including the famous Bollene ecluse (lock), the deepest in Europe. The lights at the top look small from the boat but are in fact full-size lamp-posts – it’s just that they are eight stories above us! Without other boats to help with the scale, the lock seems quite narrow, whereas it is in fact wide enough to spin our 32-footer around without touching the sides. We resolve not to try that.

Passing under the flood-gate near Donzere, which is a serious piece of kit that’s lowered into the river when required, we are reminded of the immensity of the whole Rhone enterprise.

Our hopes of sneaking into the little council-run marina at Viviers are thwarted when we arrive and find no pontoons, just a work-boat. This is a shame because Viviers is reputed to be really nice. It’s also a shame because we are running out of places to stop before the approaching nightfall.

Fortunately the very nice lock-keeper at Chateauneuf-du-Rhone is happy for us to stay on the layby overnight. This is an easy decision for him as there is little commercial traffic and virtually no pleasure boat traffic other than us (mad dogs and Englishmen etc). However, it is another cold night on board without water or electricity.

But we do enjoy a decent supermarche lasagne for supper, washed down with a suitable local red.

6 April: We have a quiet night other than for one or two barges passing through in the early hours. After breakfast, we enter the Chateauneuf ecluse “Je veux avalant s’il vous plait”, but we are not alone.

We follow a large (to us, at least) hotel boat into the lock, with great interest. Unfortunately the combination of its occasional use of an engine during the ascent, the sheer volume of water coming up under the boat and the fact that we are tied to a single bollard amidships, means we are being tossed us around like a plastic duck in a bath, despite using both thrusters. A sudden switch of its engine, for some reason, results a minor but annoying knock of the bathing platform against the wall, even with careful fendering.

At Valence, we find ourselves in a lovely marina with diesel at a reasonable 1.75 per litre, nice pontoons and all the advertised services. This is more like it.

It is an attractive marina, in whose restaurant we enjoy an excellent supper. How unlucky then that a sudden heavy thunder-storm prompts Colin to run all the way back to the boat to close the roof-hatches, which had been left on vent, in case the deluge should flood onto our bed. He is completely soaked and eventually returns to the table in shorts, having wrung out his jeans and shirt into the sink. Sacrebleu.

7 April: We head on up-river and arrive as planned at the marina of Les Roches-de-Condrieu, expecting full services and a choice of eateries. But the diesel supply has water in it, as the boss amusingly explains in a mixture of gestures and French, and is therefore not available. That’s two out of three fuel failures already, manageable so far but we are conscious of burning up to 35 litres per hour at up to 12 knots (see info >>>>). Marie also discovers that the seemingly good showers are not working. Plus ca change.

So we head up to the village only to find that our eating choice is limited to the nearby hotel overlooking the river. To be fair, we enjoy some excellent food and wine there.

On the way up, this heron seems more relaxed than those in the UK.

8 April: By early afternoon, we are passing through the ‘confluence’ from the Rhone onto the Saone in arguably France’s second city, Lyon. It is a wide junction with plenty of logs and other debris coming from further up the Rhone and getting caught in the swirling water. Perhaps the Saone will run more slowly and carry less flotsam.

The Lyon river bank is known to be not very boat-friendly unless you have a steel barge, so it was a surprise to discover a few days earlier that their relatively new marina in the heart of the city was – closed: “Come back in May.” Not for the first time, some people seem to think they are doing us boaters a favour.

There are other moorings in Lyon but they are really only suitable for large steel barges and seem to be fully occupied by same.

Progress so far
313 km – 196 ml – 13 locks – 35 hrs

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This page is scheduled for completion by end-June 2022. It will be a repository for information, links and data that might be of interest to some readers. If you think you might be interested, please check back after June.

The boat

The route and schedule

Fuel stats

The Rhone locks and flow rates

Other links

ends