Canal des Voges

May, 29th 2009 (Sally).

Well here we are 300km north of St Jean de Losne, at the town of Epinal in the area of Lorraine. Our departure from the dry dock at St Jean was not quite as quick as the proverbial champagne cork, but as speedy as one can be at 8kph in a fifty tonne boat. The interest in the workings of a dry dock had paled significantly after four days of inactivity, firstly in waiting for the workmen to return to work and then for one other boat to be finished so as soon as we were out on Tuesday morning it was non-stop north. The Saône travels from the Voges 400kms to meet the Rhône at Lyon and it was the upper reaches that we were on. It is often called the prettiest river in France and we can see why. With a gentle, meandering course it drops very slowly — only 59 metres in the whole of its navigable reach — and is a fisherman's paradise with many people either sitting in boats or in quiet little spots on the banks. A favourite dish of the region is Pochouse, a river fish stew. I tried it at one riverside restaurant, very tasty but lots of bones. The larger towns of Auxonne and Gray were soon left behind and we found ourselves calling at much smaller villages. Ray sur Saône, just a small deviation from the main river was a picture book mooring. Manicured lawns to the water, freshly painted houses, flower boxes all in bloom and all crowned by a well maintained castle. We walked the village, climbed to the castle to enjoy the spectacular view then dined at Chez Yvette, the local restaurant. The meal was très ordinaire. Oh well, you can't expect perfection all the time. For the first time ever we could not find a boulangerie, shock, horror, a situation we thought was unheard of in France but as we proceeded further into the sparsly populated area it was more and more common.

We had one more stop before we reached Port le Saône where we had arranged to meet our good friends Margaret and Peter James who were travelling by car from Germany. They were with us last year after the Somme and had a week of cruising on a very industrial canal so it was a delight to introduce them to the unspoilt scenery of this area. Because of their car we had to do a few hop-steps of catching the car up with the boat but fortunately the tow path was all sealed and Tony did a few miles by bike while we either waited for him or took control of Sable and met him further up. At Corre, a tiny town where the river Saône finally becomes unnavigable and where we transferred to the Canal des Vosges he found of all things in such a small village, a bike shop. 10 or 15 kms a day on the old rattler must have been enough to persuade him it was time to upgrade so now we have a third bike which handles much easier than the old one.

The Canal de Vosges is an interesting waterway, built between 1874 and 1882 after France had lost possession of Alsace Lorraine as they did not want to go through enemy territory. It gave good access to the industrial regions of Toul and Nancy and in its prime carried three million tonnes of freight. One is still able to see the evidence of industry, villages with names like La Manufacture and Forges les Bains but sadly the industry is all gone and all that remains are large derelict buildings and old water mills leaving the waterways for the benefit of the few pleasure craft owners, like ourselves. The villages are slowly dying with shops mentioned in our guide books no longer there and many empty houses. The most obvious was Fontenoy le Chateau. In 1840 there was an embroidery industry there that employed five hundred people. They supplied the Royal houses of Europe and the East but that is long gone and the town is reduced to one small grocer, rows of empty shops and an embroidery museum which unfortunately was closed. So sad as it all sits among the most beautiful stretches of waterways. One cruises in solitude through pristine forests of firs, birches and oaks with only the sound of birdsong and the very occasional passing boat.

Our first night with our friends we moored on a jetty belonging to a riverside resturant and after promising to return for Sunday lunch took off to explore nearby Vesoul, reported to be a town of historic interest. The town was franticly busy, people everywhere and it was only after great difficultly we found a car park and discovered the big attraction was the annual Vide Grenier. The whole block was taken up with private stalls selling their junk, old clothes, old shoes videos, books etc. We returned to the river for a delicious lunch then proceeded upriver to another small village to find it also full of people. Crowds everywhere and as we walked into town it was obvious we were in the middle of another Vide Grenier. Once again stalls full of junk, but this was country junk, old horse harness and tools mainly, and it was certainly attracting the crowds. One would wonder where they all came from as the village itself consisted of only twenty houses.

The climb from the Saône valley to the plateau above is steep, 34 locks in 50kms, all more than 3m deep, a good workout for the upper body, then a 11km stretch across the top before a ladder of 14 locks that takes one down to the Moselle and our pleasant mooring here in Epinal. We had driven here the day before to farewell Margaret and Peter and at the same time made a reservation at the port for Sable so when we were met by an officious looking lady off one of the boats who told us to moor to the far bank, Tony decided to ignore her and take the prime position opening onto the park. All settled in, power attached and the Capitain arrives, off the same boat, "I sent my wife" he says. Woops, slight mistake. Hurried apologies and all is forgiven and we are allowed to stay.

Monday, we made an epic journey back to Roanne and Lyon to finalise our certificates of residency. Left here at 5.00am by train to Nancy, another train to Lyon, change to Roanne then after collecting mail and our certificates a fourth train back to Lyon. Tuesday was a medical which pronounced us healthy enough to stay in France, for a fee that surely fixed all France's problems from the GFC, then another long train trip back to Epinal. About a 1,200 km round trip. Hopefully the effort was all worthwhile, no need for visas in future and we now have a seniors card which gives us a 50% discount on train travel. Lyon, as in our previous visit was a delight. No signs of financial crisis there, shops all full of wonderful fashion and plenty of well laden shoppers. Must be infectious as we came home loaded with several large shopping bags and the man of the boat was heard to mumble, "Get me out of this town before I spend more." Can you believe it?

Epinal, (pop 40,000) is a lovely city and has been a pleasant rest stop for almost a week, though not without its drama. One morning Tony noticed a strong smell of gas emanating from the front hatch and quickly discovered that the (British) gas regulator had literally fallen apart. A very likeable young gas-fitter turned up and soon located in town a regulator, which to all looks and purposes seemed identical to the old one. However he failed to notice that the pressure capacity of the new was less than half that of the old. Consequently, when we test-lit the stove the extreme pressure burst both the tap and the burner, as well as a joint underneath. While the lad dashed back to the bow to stem the flow, Tony was blowing out flames like a 64 year-old puffing out the candles on his birthday cake! Successfully, thank God. After a day's toil the young tradesman has replaced the regulator, fitted a new hob and fixed all the joints, sometimes working in the most excruciating confinement. Typically, there is 1mm difference between the size of copper tubing used in UK and Europe. As there are no manufactured components to marry the two he had to stretch and weld several joints. We expected a bill into four figures, but no, it was their fault so the brand new hob and more than eight hours labour were complimentary. Nice guy! We're thankful we still have a boat! Today we're heading to Charmes. Doesn't that sound pretty?

Dry Dock

May, 10th 2009 (Tony).

What a fascinating place to spend a week — in a boat yard. As a boat owner it is obligatory to be a jack of all trades — mechanic, carpenter, plumber, electrician, painter etc. I am fortunate to have spent many years looking over the shoulders of some highly skilled craftsmen and I am thankful that along the way I made mental notes of how to effect many "tricks of the trade". Now I am in an intriguing new domain, foreign to me, observing boilermakers, welders and fitters busily, well casually more like — this is France after all — going about their work. There are four boats in the dry dock. One is having a complete overhaul and on another a new steel skin fitted over its original hundred-year-old iron plates. Originally they would have been 6mm or 8mm. To pass survey, underwater steel must be more than 3mm thick. (Sable's bottom plate is 12mm steel). She had already been in the dock for two weeks and the job is about half-done so when the dock was flooded to allow another boat to exit and Sable and another to come in the holes in the old rusted hull became obvious as she took in more water than her bilge pump could cope with. Her frantic owner was rushing about trying to borrow bilge pumps to keep the floor above water while we could only look on, helpless aboard our own boat, and note the rising level on the new steel sides. The new pieces have been precisely cut and rolled to fit the shape of the old hull and tack-welded in place. But boats in-and-out drives the commercial reality of a dry dock. This was the third changeover for her — but the most enduring. The final welding started a couple of days later. A big job. And very impressive to watch. When completed she will have a new 5mm steel skin containing the old hull.

However, what exacerbated the problem and made everything a compelling drama was the coaxing required to the tugboat that followed behind Sable. Her draft, being deeper than the dock at its sill, meant she would need some extra encouragement to enter the dock beyond the gate. A large crane was on standby but could not alone bear the load. No worries, the owner of the yard fetches up a 38m commercial barge, fastens the stern securely to a couple of bollards, rudder virtually against the dock gate, drops it into gear and revs her up and presto! The huge propeller churned hundreds of cubic metres of water over the top and before long the dock was 300mm above the canal level. It still took more than an hour to nudge the tug the final six metres and for a diver to position the supports under her. Lord knows what a calamity would have ensued if those stern ropes on the barge had broken for her bow reached almost right across the basin and was only a few metres from boats moored on the other side. How they will get the tug out again I have no idea. Watch this space...

Next morning we were roused from our bed at 6:45 am by the humungus roar of a water blaster tearing into the hull of the tug. By 8:30 the tug was done and they started on Sable. This is a serious water blaster! I have no doubt it would cut your boot off if it was carelessly misdirected. By 11:30 Sable's bottom was scrubbed clean, and understandably looking a bit raw. By mid-afternoon she was dry enough for an apprentice to gingerly apply a bit of paint. Presumably he was newly indentured as he was only entrusted with a miniscule roller. We had always imagined that above the water-line would be our responsibilty but when I enquired of the boss if he would sell me the paint he graciously explained that they would do the lot. We were not only relieved but delighted that we could contribute to France's futile effort to contain unemployment. And when I later saw the lad on his back, on a trolley, painting Sable's flat underbelly, with barely half a metre clearance, I was moved to appreciate his enthusiasm to have a job. Nonetheless, by 5pm the next day he had completed the first coat.

We arrived in St Jean de Losne a weAek early and spent several carefree days moored to the town quay, on the River Saône. The shipyard sent around a tradesman to look at our boiler (the mechanic at Montchanin to whom we were recommended showed up the first day we were there, as promised, but then never got back to me) and found a valve had simply seized. A small adjustment with a spanner and a squirt of grease soon fixed the problem. Once that was done we slipped out of this town which has virtually no appeal whatsoever and cruised up the river to spend a couple of days at Auxonne, where Napoleon went to military college which still looks exactly the same as it did then, a town that does have some character and charm. The Saône is a wide, mighty river, and it is not uncommon to come across commercial barges up to 110m long plying cargoes from the Mediterranean as far up as St Jean de Losne. Further upstream the locks revert to the old standard 40m in length. The scenery was gorgeous and the weather perfect. As soon as we get out of dry dock we intend to head up the river to Gray where we will begin our summer 2009 cruising adventure into Alsace-Lorraine. Our only date-link is to be somewhere near Colmar or Besacon when the Tour de France passes through about 17-18 July.

The last two Fridays have been public holidays: May Day; and the 8th marks the anniversary of the signing of the armistice. Work on Sable is completed and she does look better for it and hopefully should not need to dock again for four years. So here we sit, confined, on a boat that doesn't rock. But we do! We have no choice but to remain in dock until at least Monday when hopefully the next boat will be due to come in. Not that we're in any hurry but the environs of a boatyard are more akin to a railway marshalling siding than a beautiful canal. It took us half a day to scrub the grime from the top of the boat — gunk blasted off our own hull plus the dust from grinders, welding slag and miscellaneous detritus that accumulates around such sites. Yesterday we had to empty the grey water tank by bucket brigade. I hope the black water tank can contain itself until we leave! Showers are now rationed until we can replenish the water supply. All going well, we should be out of here tomorrow.