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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