The Canal Latéral à la Loire Part 2

My last post saw us rafted to a rusty old barge in Saint Satur. The day, or at least the scenery, had to improve.

Saturday 13th May 2023

We woke up bright and early as usual. A motorboat had passed us and we felt a slight wash. There was no way we were staying in this dump more than one night. There were no facilities, no scenery, no power, nothing, so we set off just after 9am.

When we reached Lock 33 Thauvenay, a boat was already waiting ahead of us, near the gates.  This was a relief as when there a boat between you and the water coming in through the gates they bear the brunt of the cascades as the lock opens.

It was a hired motorboat and the people on it seemed a bit clueless. It was jumping all over the place before the lock filling cycle even started.  Anybody can hire a boat on the canals with no qualifications at all, the boats are specifically advertised to highlight this.  This is probably why they have so many big fenders on them.

The lock keeper, the girl we saw yesterday evening, took my rope on a boat hook to secure it to a bollard above but the lock was deep and the rope wouldn't reach it. I told her I'd secure us to the ladder. She looked sceptical but it worked fine. If this technique was good enough for the big locks of the Seine it was good enough for the canals (but I didn’t know how to tell her this in French, probably just as well). This lock was manual, and again Igor helped by opening one of the lock gates to exit.

There are far fewer locks on the Canal Lateral than the Canal de Briare and it was an hour until we reached the next one, 32 Grange. Another eclusier, a man this time, had a lovely Labrador type dog with him. Well, her body looked like a Labrador but her face was a bit more scrunched up and the ears were shorter.  She seemed old and placid, her paws a brownish orange colour and her muzzle greying but she was really friendly. She looked like she wanted to jump in the boat with us but thankfully she didn't try.

I'm not a dog person but I couldn't resist stroking her as we rose up the walls.

Once we exited the lock the canal got worse. All sorts of things were floating in it, a dead deer, the usual huge quantities of weeds, even logs. We'd go for a short while then have to clear our rudders. It took us nearly an hour to cover the 3km to Lock 31 Prée. The same lock keeper was there but sadly no doggie this time. The lock was a lot less deep too. While we waited Igor used the boat hook to clear the rudder of weed. The lock keeper handed him a sort of wide toothed rake which seemed to work well. Igor offered to lift the weed and put it on the side of the lock but the 'keeper just shrugged. No wonder there's so much weed, nobody is removing it!

It was midday now so we deliberately made slow progress along the 3km to reach Lock 30 Herry at 1pm. The lock keeper was another young woman who was with us for the next two locks as well. These three locks were automated so quicker and less physical work to operate.

From Herry to Lock 29 Rousseaux the water level in the canal was worrying again. It dropped to 1m as we passed the basin at about PK 139. It took about 1 1/2 hours to cover the 7km to reach Rousseaux. We constantly checked the depth, trying to find the slightly deeper water, and clearing the weeds was a continuous process. Move forward for a few minutes, stop, reverse, go slowly and try to push the weeds away with a boat hook.

The next section was a bit better, only 45 minutes to cover the 7km to Lock 28 Argenvières. We arrived around 14:50 but the lock keeper told us that we’d have to wait for another boat. When it arrived it was the British boat we'd seen in Saint Satur last night. We'd spotted them earlier, moored for lunch, at a bollard that had neatly been mown around, the only place on the canal's bank where this had happened. As we passed we'd asked them if they had specially brought a lawn mower.  After a few weeks of trying to communicate in French it is so relaxing to be able to just speak English and be understood!

Despite the wait we were out of the lock by about 4pm. We did the next 3 locks, 27 Beffe, 26 Aubois and 25 Aubigny with the British guys, chatting as we waited while the lock keeper, a man this time, did his thing on the manual locks with a bit of help from Igor.  The motorboat skipper told us that he'd had to dive under his boat to remove not just fishing lines but lead weights with hooks and other tackle that had wrapped themselves around his propeller causing a worrying knocking and loss of power.

Each of these locks took about 10 minutes. Aubois was pretty, the canal crossing a small river as we exited it.

At the final lock, Aubigny, we told the lock keeper we wouldn't be traveling tomorrow. He gave us a number to call on Monday when we wanted to set off again.

We reached Marseilles-les-Aubigny around 5.15pm. The marina was small and we spotted two potential parking spots, sorry, available moorings. One was by the entrance, a wide pontoon at an angle to the land. The other was a short pontoon, big enough for two small boats side by side. Neither of them looked perfect so we decided to explore a little further.

Some bigger boats were moored against the canal wall.  A man was standing by one of them so I asked him if the depth was more than 1.2m. 'Oui'. We decided to try and stop there.

Now, not sure if you've realised this by now, but Igor is the sort of man who thinks actions through very thoroughly before executing them. I know he knows what he's doing and 98% of the time trust his judgment unquestioningly, especially on a tricky manoeuvre like attempting to moor in hazardous conditions. If he says 'stop' I know it means 'stop'.

We approached the wall very slowly. The man from the boat took our mooring line as I was about to disembark and then pulled it hard, leading to a loud crunch from our rear. The rudder had made contact with something. I asked the man for the rope but instead of giving it back to me he took the aft line from its cleat and started pulling the aft in. This was the absolute opposite of what we wanted, we wanted to keep the rear of the boat well away from the wall and move away completely.

Igor and I tried politely asking him to let go of it as it was too shallow for us but he either didn't understand or didn't want to understand. Igor eventually had no choice but to grab the line and off we went. The man's expression suggested we had mortally offended him but I'd rather cause offence to a stranger than deliberately damage the boat. As it was, no harm was done.

We went back to the pontoons. The British motorboat had nicked the big mooring. Can't really blame him but we were a bit peeved. This meant we had to try the short pontoon. One of the British guys offered to help. I jokingly said 'we've got this unless I fall in, then we'll need your help' then immediately worried that I'd jinxed myself. Luckily it all went smoothly. Libra's wide beam filled the two spaces in the mooring nicely and although the pontoon was short there were lots of cleats so we were able to make her sit safe and secure. There was also enough water, which was a relief.

We went for a short walk afterwards. There is a church practically next door to the marina but no sign of life. The door was unlocked so we went inside. It reminded me of the chapel at my primary school, very high roof, limestone pillars, a smell of incense.

There was a statue to St Martin de Porres, one of my Dad's favourite saints. The church was classic cross shaped. One of the side chapels was dedicated to Our Lady, with marble plaques thanking her for her help. The other seemed to be dedicated to St Jude, patron saint of lost causes. He seemed to be getting a lot of thanks too. The stained glass was beautiful though some of the panels were missing, replaced with obscured plain glass. The whole place felt like the much loved centre of a community from around a hundred years ago.

Over the canal from the marina is a patisserie and artisan boulangerie. Oh what a treasure trove! I wished I had a sweet tooth as the pastries and cakes looked incredible. As it was we bought two baguettes and a savoury brioche with bacon bits in. Very nice. We went back to the boat and ate the brioche with far too much cheese, to the extent that all we could eat for supper was a tin of beef bourgignone (much nicer than it sounds).

Sunday 14th May 2023

We originally intended staying in Marseilles-les-Aubigny for two nights but the morning was so misty and gloomy we decided we may as well get on the move again. First of all we decided to take advantage of the showers.  Although we can shower on the boat we have to be careful of the amount of water we're using so to stand under a hot, powerful shower for minutes at a time felt like a luxury.  I was finally able to wash my hair. I've decided that after the first four days it doesn't get any worse but it's lovely when it's clean.

We paid the harbourmaster for our stay and asked him about the church. He told us that the roof is unsafe so it's no longer in use.

We couldn't get through to VNF on the phone to tell them of our change of plan so walked up to the lock, maybe five minutes away, to speak to the lock keeper who was still there after letting a boat through earlier. He said he'd call ahead to the next lock to arrange our passage. We then went back to the patisserie to stock up on bread, and also bought some quiche for lunch on the move.

The next lock was around 7km away and we set off at 10am. It took us around an hour. The water was a lot cleaner than yesterday and we only had to remove weeds once.

We had been moving for about 40 minutes when we spotted fishermen at the side of the canal. Not just one or two, but 20 or 30. It looked like some sort of competition. Igor asked the first few to move but they told him to move instead. He tried to explain about our depth but they weren't very understanding.

If we hit their lines it would be bad for them, obviously, as they'd lose their expensive tackle, but it would be even worse for us. If you get fishing line wrapped around your prop it won't work, so you have to either dive and cut it off, like our friend on the motorboat, or lift the boat and sort it out. Neither of these is something we want to have to do.

I went and stood on the bow. As I approached each angler I'd say 'excusez moi' and they'd pull their rods and lines out of the way. One of them complimented Igor on his speed (or lack of), saying it was perfect.

We passed the gauntlet with no ill effects for anyone involved, what a relief, and bid them 'au revoir'.

The 8km to Lock 24 Laubray took us about an hour and a half.  By now the sun was starting to shine. The lock was manual and Igor helped the young woman who was lock keeper with opening the gates.

The next locks were about 6km away but it was 11.30am and they close for lunch at 12. Rather than hurry Igor decided to slow right down so that we wouldn't need to risk tying up on the inhospitable canal banks. We had our lunch on the go, which included the quiche we'd bought earlier. Oh what a revelation, I didn't realise quiche could actually be anything other than unimaginative misery! It was deep, a dream mixture of cream and bacon. Nothing like what you buy in Tesco! I'd have taken a photo but I was too busy eating.

There is no lock 23, when the canal was rerouted and updated number 23 ended up on a different branch to the main canal, but to make up for it 22 and 21 are what’s called a ‘double staircase’. This was today’s big challenge and the closest I’m ever likely to come to tackling something like the Sept Ecluses at Rogny. Two locks in succession was daunting enough, I can't imagine how it would feel to see seven.

We had to wait around 15 minutes for the first lock to open, just going slowly up and down the canal. There was a very pleasant mooring area with a lively looking restaurant, very tempting, but no, we were pressing on. Eventually the gates opened and the light went green. We entered. We'd been warned it was deep but it still felt quite overwhelming. Igor had fixed an extra long line, 25m of it, and it wasn't excessive (the first lock chamber is 10m deep).

The gates closed. When you're in a lock and the water comes in there is often an initial gush before the level rises enough to buffer it. In this lock it was a deluge, a torrent of water came through the openings on the gates.

It was near impossible for me to hold the boat in place. I simply didn't have the leverage as the rope was so long. Also, this rope is a spinnaker line and  quite slippery so difficult to get a grip on it even with my sailing gloves. We rose and rose, up and up to near the top, then the gates opened and it was straight into the next chamber, barely giving us time to notice the beautiful view beyond the lock gates closing behind us.

The second chamber wasn't quite as deep as the first but was still bigger than most we've seen. When we reached the top the eclusiere seemed very pleased with himself, his efforts and his locks. 'C'est magnifique, hein?'

There was only one possible answer, 'Oui!'

He took our registration details. On previous canals nobody bothered to do this but nearly every lock keeper on the Lateral Canal has asked for our boat's official registration number.  We had to submit it to get our vignette,the permit for using the canals. Maybe the other canals had better computerised systems? Who knows. He asked us if we'd need the next lock. ‘No’, was the answer, this was the final one today. It's Sunday, a day of rest, and the sun was now shining. We'll leave the next lot of locks for tomorrow.

I had wondered at the reason why the canal needs to rise so much in this spot, as the land surrounding it doesn't seem particularly hilly.  When the second lock opened I realised that it led to the Guétin Aqueduct. This isn't as pretty as the Briare Aqueduct but it's still a pretty impressive piece of engineering.  There are no statues or Art Deco lamp posts, it's a bit run down with railings by the water's edge that would cheer the heart of any health and safety inspector. The view over the Loire is just as impressive. The water rushes and swirls. I was very pleased we didn't have to navigate it.

We couldn't see anywhere to moor at our original destination, the Gimouille basin so carried on to Plagny. There is a hire boat base but we saw a spare pontoon and secured ourselves to it. The only problem is that the gate to the pontoon was locked and we didn't have a key so we were prisoners on our boat.

Will we starve? Will we be unceremoniously ejected by an irate hirer? You’ll have to read the next instalment to find out.

If you'd like to comment please go to Libra Sail | Facebook. I still haven't worked out how to put comments on here.