The Loing Canal

We left Samois-sur-Seine around midday on 5th May. It had rained heavily all night so we waited for the skies to clear a little before we set off. While we waited we did some boat housekeeping chores, there is always something to do (and it's often too disgusting to mention here). Our plan was to head for St Mammes, where the Seine meets the Loing Canal. We've been travelling the Seine for the best part of a month, apart from our visit home, so it felt slightly odd to say goodbye to this beautiful, huge, impressive waterway.

Before we left it, one final lock, No 2 de Champagne. We had the lock chamber to ourselves.  It was very straightforward and about forty minutes later we were passing through St Mammes into the River Loing for a short distance until we locked into the canal.

On the Seine the routine was to call the lock keeper on a designated channel on VHF, usually 18 or 22, but there were no signs anywhere for how to make contact as we approached the first lock southbound on the canal (No 19, Moret). One of our old guidebooks had a phone number so I rang and thankfully it worked. The lights changed from red, to red and green (wait) to green (proceed).  

The lock keeper was waiting for us, a young woman in her early twenties, blonde with lots of piercings in her nose and a sweet, bubbly manner. She gave us a remote control and a long explanation of how to use it. I didn't catch a word.  I was struggling to control the boat as we rose in the lock chamber.

'Pardonnez moi, je ne comprends pas' (the most useful words in the French language).

She only spoke a little English but managed to let us know that there are buttons on the remote which you press to open the lock as you approach, and once inside you pull a blue handle to close the gates behind you. There is a red string next to the blue handle for emergencies. She told me that we mustn't ever pull this as the whole lock system will stop working (or something like that, dunno).

We said goodbye and made our way to the next lock, 18 (Bourgogne). Some helpful Australians offered to take our ropes but obviously didn't know what they were doing as they tried to tie us to the blue handle. Sorted things out ourselves and had a nice chat with a lady from Queensland. Much easier to understand than the lock keeper. After going through a few locks and seeing lots of signs we realised that nobody is supposed to be within the area next to the lock unless they are using it, strictly interdit!

The next two locks, 17 (Ecuelles) and 16 (Episy) were straightforward. Go into the lock, loop the midline rope around something solid like a ladder, a bollard or a special pole set into the wall which allows the rope to rise (one of these at least will be in each lock). Close the lock gates by lifting and pulling the blue handle. Control the boat with the midline as the water rushes in (can be easier said than done and quite physical at times). Once the water level matches the canal ahead the gates beep and a red warning light on the gate switches on, they open and you go through. The whole process usually takes 15-20 minutes from the lock receiving the signal from your remote.

One thing I haven't mentioned is that the locks are really, really narrow. Our boat's beam is 3.9 metres and we have about a foot to spare on either side. It can be quite a challenge to get in without hitting the side, especially if there is any cross wind, weed or grass in the water to foul the rudder(s). Go too slowly and  you lose steerage. Go too fast - well, that's not a good idea either. Luckily Igor is good at judging these things.

By the time we reached Episy, lock 16, it was nearly 5pm so we decided to call it a day. We found a stretch of wall with bollards for mooring about 300m on from the lock and secured the boat there. The towpath on our side was overgrown, thigh high grass and lots of wild flowers.

Our old guide book said there was a restaurant by the lock which served a 4 course dinner including wine for 55 francs. The restaurant building was still there, but by the looks of it it's gone the same way as the French franc. What a pity.  We went for a walk around town but couldn't see a single shop, restaurant or bar. The closest we got was a machine that dispensed fresh bread and pastries, but it was out of order. How can you have a reasonable sized town with no shops at all??

The buses seemed to be even fewer than in Burnham, and that's saying something. We went back to the boat and had sausages, which were very nice.

The place we stayed was so quiet, just us and the birdsong and occasional traffic noises. In the morning we went for a run along the towpath on the other bank, which was well maintained and flat. We were only going to do 3km but ended up running to the next lock to have a look, a round distance of 5 km. It was so beautiful, it really cleared all the cobwebs and the knots in my muscles from sitting for too long.

We set off around 10.20 on Saturday 6th. At lock 15, Berville, we had to wait for another boat to go through ahead of us. As we entered the lock a chatty Frenchman spotted our red ensign and shouted 'God save ze king'. It was Coronation Day. We smiled and thanked him

The same boat was ahead of us at lock 14, but must have been moving faster than us as it was out of the lock almost as soon as we arrived. Lock 13, Fromonville, is described as a flood  lock, and the gates on both sides were open as we approached. I think they only close in times of flood.

The canal rejoins the Loing River at Fromonville and you follow the river to Nemours. A pedestrian bridge spans the river and we knew that we had to turn to the right to get back into the canal as the river becomes very shallow. We spotted a red light below the bridge which responded to our remote control. The turning to the canal was very sharp, 90 degrees, almost invisible until you were right on it. We waited and waited, wondering eventually whether it wasn't in service, then just as we were about to call the River authorities it changed to green. We'd waited 25 minutes.

Passing through the lock (12, Buttes) was uneventful but we saw a big barge headed in our direction on the other side of the gate. The canal is narrow and at one point it didn't look like we'd get past him as he was in the area approaching the entrance to the lock which is even narrower than the main channel. As we passed him he shouted something. I assumed it was abuse, but Igor caught the word 'Fermee'. This was worrying, as there are issues with the water supply for the canal system and if the levels drop too low they are impassable. We decided to pull in at the Halte Fluviale just after the lock and research what was going on.

As we moored a British boat went past and told us that they'd had to turn back. Their draft was 1.6 metres whereas ours is 1.2m so they reckoned we'd probably be OK. We contacted the friends we'd made in Rueill, who did some research too.  

By now it was hot and sunny, and the mooring had water and power, so we decided we'd stay overnight and provision even though it was only around 1.30pm. We walked into town, just over a kilometre, but although the first supermarket was quite big the stock was pretty basic, lots of tins, sweets and fizzy drinks, think an Asda in the UK. We decided to head to a Carrefour hypermarket another 1.5km on. It was definitely worth the walk, much better.

We walked back under the beating sun with 3 huge bags of groceries. Igor needed to get diesel but decided to wait until it got cooler in the evening to go out again. It stayed very warm until nightfall, which was lovely, and meant we had a very lazy afternoon.

Sunday morning was raining again but cooler. We needed diesel and a quick internet search showed that the Intermarche 1.4 km in the opposite direction to yesterday's excursion was the cheapest around so we set off with our trusty trolley. A DIY shop was open so we were able to get a few bits in there that we needed, but the supermarket itself was closed. Luckily the fuel place was open, so 30 litres heavier we set off back to the boat, glad that the homeward walk was downhill.

We'd ascertained that there is an issue with water levels in the Briare Canal, but as our boat has a shallow draft decided to take our chances and head towards there. Our intention was to travel until around 4.30/5pm and then stop and explore where we were staying.

As we passed along the Loing the scenery was just so beautiful. The canal water was deep, milky green, the trees were different shades of green, the sky was blue with fluffy white clouds. I remembered being in primary school art class. Back then, we had palates of powder paints, each having red, yellow, blue, green, black and white shared between two pupils. One day the teacher said each child should choose 3 colours. The girl I sat next to immediately bagged red, yellow and blue. I was left thinking 'what can I do with green, black and white?' Today I had the epiphany that evaded me nearly 60 years ago. The banks of the river were green leaves, black shadows and bark and white cow parsley. If only I had the artistic talent to make my 7 year old self proud of me.

The main downside is the amount of vegetation in the river. It looks like when the banks are cleared the offcuts are just chucked in the water. It's worst in the areas near towns, and it can gather by the locks in big heaps of almost impassable obstructions.

The weeds wrap around your rudders and propeller which means you can't manoeuvre properly and cuts your speed right down.  Thankfully this  can be cleared by either reversing or using a floor brush to push the weeds down to the bottom of the rudders so they can float away, free.

The saddest thing is seeing drowned water rats and deer in the canal. They either fall in or wander into the water then can't climb up onto the bank. We actually saw a deer in the water, swimming. It crossed in front of us and to our relief scrambled onto the bank and ran into the forest. It was big enough to push itself up and out of the water. A smaller one wouldn't stand a chance.

The guidebooks mentioned facilities at Nargis, Lock 5, which we reached around 16.45 but we couldn't see anywhere to stay. We carried on. There was literally nowhere to moor. Time passed.

Another recommended spot was between locks 2 (La Vallee) and 1 (Cepoy). All the spaces seemed to have been taken by bigger boats and the walls sloped making the approach difficult for us. Not only that, there were no bollards to moor to. We managed to secure the boat to a strong wooden fence but realised we were scraping the bottom, not a good idea as it was rocky. We had no choice but to continue out through the Cepoy lock, the last in the Loing Canal, taking us into the Briare Canal.

So, in the last 3 days we've covered the 48 or so kilometres of the Loing Canal. It is so beautiful, endless trees, more shades of green than you'd think were possible, from the fresh colour of the new leaves on the trees to the murky depths of the canal and sometimes a fluorescent green foam on the surface of the water on our wake. Wildflowers line the banks, which mostly haven't been mown, so there was cow parsley, buttercups, the occasional iris and others. Passing the houses, so many have ancient wisteria, tamarisk, lilac, shades of purple and pink against the soft limestone walls. It is stunning and so soothing.

We ended up leaving the Loing behind and going through the first lock of the Briare Canal, 36 Buges. The guide book said that there were pontoon moorings just after the lock and then 5km further upstream a good mooring place/marina in Montargis. When we got through the lock we saw the pontoons, all empty. There was a good reason for that - only 1 metre of water. We carried on to lock 35. I was down below when I heard the engine screaming in reverse and hurried on deck in case we'd hit something. No, Igor had seen the lock gates but the lights were off and not responding to the remote. I looked at my watch. 7.15. A quick search told me that the locks close between 7pm and 9am. The banks of the canal had no moorings, not even a waiting pontoon, and the sides shallow rapidly. We had no choice but to wedge the nose of the boat into the mud by the wall, and drive stakes into the ground so that we could secure the ropes. On the upside, we won't have passing traffic overnight. On the downside, who would voluntarily choose to semi-ground their boat?

Let's see how far we get tomorrow when the lock opens. Oh, and apparently these automatic locks close for lunch from 12-1.  Even locks deserve lunchbreaks here?