Lesdins (socialising for a change)

As much as we enjoyed staying at the end of the weed choked arm at Seraucourt-le-Grand, we felt we had seen what we wanted to and set out for St Quentin on Monday morning.  St Quentin is a medium sized town that neither of us have visited before. The mooring reports we’d read from other boaters who’d stayed there weren’t very complimentary, but we chose to ignore those and make up our own minds.

The daytime temperature has been forecast to hover around 20 over the next few days and it certainly felt cooler, we even resorting to wearing fleeces in the morning.  Still, the sun was out, and we were on the move, so it didn’t really matter.

Approaching Fontaine-lès-Clercs

When checking back on what we were doing this time last year we were reminded that we are greatly missing having summer flowers on the boat.  We hadn’t bothered this summer because we knew we’d have two trips back to the UK and that they probably wouldn’t survive being left uncared for twice.

Exactly a year ago – taking on water at the top lock in Reims

We only had one lock to go up and, like the previous day, the éclusier itinérant had to see us through as the automatic controls weren’t working.  When we reached the top, he was at pains to explain to Karen about dredging and weed extraction works being carried out as we went through St Quentin.  Apparently, we didn’t have to worry as they would see us and make sure there was plenty of room to get past.

Our éclusier itinerant

Having said yesterday that we’ve seen no commercials on this canal and that the only ones we were likely to see would be loading or unloading at places like St Quentin, we passed one as we neared the town. 

Filling up with grain

It was taking on grain but rather than having a chute from a silo it was being laboriously filled using a farm elevator so must’ve taken ages. 

Being filled via an elevator

We were soon in the centre of town and looking for the port.  We wanted to call in as we needed water and there was nowhere else to get any until the end of the canal in Cambrai. It would also give us the opportunity to do some washing and still continue with a full tank: always a good feeling.

Looking for the port entrance – it was on the left before the bridge

There was a lot of weed so we kept away from that whilst looking for where to get water as it wasn’t obvious where to go.

Looking for a water point

The first sight we had as we went in was of some dismal looking pontoons that we didn’t have a chance of tying up to.

Pontoons that have seen better days

Karen spotted a sign for visitor moorings at the end of a pontoon that was not much more than five metres long.  It’s always fun reversing onto pontoons, especially short ones, even more so if it’s windy and best of all, when all the boats around are plastic.  For ‘fun’ read ‘nerve-wracking’ and fortunately there was very little wind so we moored up OK.

Moored up safely

All the other pontoons were jam packed

Karen went in search of the capitaine and the water point.  The capitaine was absent but there was a number to call to report your arrival and to obtain the pin code to get in and out of the secure gates at the far end of the port.  We didn’t bother calling as we didn’t want to stay or need the pin code.  She did find a tap that worked but it was too far away for our hose to reach so I had to dig out our second, emergency, hose.  That was fine but I couldn’t find the hose connectors.  All our hose adapters and tap fittings are kept in a pot, securely locked away in the cratch but the connectors were nowhere to be found. 

As I’ve probably mentioned before, it feels that every water point in France needs a different fixing or adapter so it’s important to have a good and varied supply.  Of course, Karen and I had laid the hoses out before looking for the connector including one along the roof as the tank’s at the front and we’d reversed in.  I went to have a more thorough search and finally found them; they must have fallen out of the pot when I put it away last time.  Anyway, it meant we could put the washing on and fill up with water.

When the first load finished, I started hanging it out on the tiller whirligig while Karen got the second load going.  The machine resolutely failed to work; no lights would come on at all.  This was especially strange as we’d just done one load.  The fuse hadn’t blown and the socket was working so the next thing to check was the filter; if it gets clogged then the machine has a failsafe mechanism and won’t operate.  Checking the filter wasn’t easy as the residual water couldn’t be pumped out because the machine wasn’t working.  Fortunately, the second wash was a towel wash so Karen used these to mop up the mess she made taking out the filter which, ironically, was almost as clean as a whistle.

The chances were that the door wasn’t completing the circuit required to turn the machine on, but I couldn’t start dismantling the machine in the port.  There was nothing for it but to pack up and leave the job until another day.

Leaving the port

We wanted to visit St Quentin so moored up as soon as we found some bollards.  Well, we found one bollard and a pile of stanking planks with handy hooked ends so we secured ourselves to those.

Heading for a mooring in front of some apartments

The town was bustling with shoppers but no real signs of tourists, so we probably stuck out like sore thumbs.  There were several large squares with quite a few bars and restaurants open for business.

The hôtel de ville

St Quentin's main church with an obvious addition/rebuild at one end

When we got back to the boat an empty commercial was reversing past.  We were worried that we had moored at a commercial mooring by mistake and they were going back to find somewhere else.  They must have seen us getting on board and, as they carried on reversing, we realised that something else was happening.  They had reversed a good 500 metres until they were out of sight around a bend and then the earlier grain boat appeared and slowly came through as it was fully laden.  The two guys on board exchanged friendly waves so that was further confirmation that we were OK where we were.  They would have soon said something if we’d been in the wrong place.

We had planned on moving down and finding a mooring at the other end of town, which has also got bad reviews but decided to stay put for the rest of the day.  Maybe it’s because there’s a lot of redevelopment going on which looks untidy but we didn’t think the town warranted the bad reviews we’d read.

On Monday we cruised six miles up lock and just saw the two commercial boats.

Mooring notes for the long quay in St Quentin were mainly along the lines of unattractive and run down.  It was cloudy as we left on Tuesday morning and that rather reinforced these views as we passed that part of town.  We had certainly picked the best spot mooring to the one bollard and the stanking planks.

The 'dismal' moorings at St Quentin

Goodbye St Quentin

The mechanical digger in the middle of the cut was loading a boat with weed.  A weed cutting boat was going up and down collecting weed and dumping it in front of the digger.  The weed was particularly thick in this section and we could feel it holding us back so it must be even more noticeable on boats with a deeper draught than ours.

We went up the main lock in St Quentin and then pulled in as we’d seen there was a fuel station attached to an Intermarché supermarket not far away.  I set about getting diesel while Karen took Buddy for his morning walk.

Getting ready for the diesel run

I only needed two trips to the garage and managed to get 60 litres in the tank before it was full. As usual there was the uncanny coincidence that the last 20 litre can filled the tank to the brim.  Our timing was perfect as, by the time I’d finished getting the boat ready for carrying on, Karen & Buddy arrived back.

I saw there was a boat coming up the lock behind us as we set off and then heard an English conversation on the radio which I think was the first time we’ve heard anything other than French or Dutch being used.  A guy was telling his mate in the boat behind him that a boat (us) had pulled out ahead of him so they may have to ease their pace a little. I called him up to introduce ourselves and to find out if they were in a particular hurry but it transpired they weren’t and that he was just letting the guy behind know the situation.  As it turned out the next lock malfunctioned after we’d been through and they’d had a long wait for VNF to come out and fix it.

We had five locks left to reach the summit and as we made our way up, the clouds rolled away and the welcome sun came out.  At one lock we spotted a stanking plank store along the lines of those found in the UK.  Although stanking planks are obviously used over here, they aren’t usually stored in shelters for protection.  Most planks on the UK canals are wooden and therefore need some sort of protection but most here are made of steel or reinforced rubber so can withstand the elements better.

An unusual sight in France: stanking plank shelter

The view completely changed when we came out of the penultimate lock and we could see open fields and hills in the distance for the first time in nearly a week.  It made a pleasant change from the forests we have been travelling through recently.

Open fields at last

The last lock before the summit

There was an interesting sign at the last lock which was telling boaters that no overtaking is allowed in the summit pound, i.e. between this lock and the next when the canal starts going downhill.  It was interesting because Google translated it as, “It’s forbidden to tremble in the sharing reach”.

Don’t take things literally

Another sign at the lock indicated that passage through the first of the two tunnels at the top was limited to a slot in the morning and another in the afternoon.

With only a small window of time available to travel in the other direction we assumed it meant that more traffic heads north rather than south.  As we would have to wait for the afternoon slot, and it was such a nice spot we moored up for lunch.

Moored at Lesdins on the summit of the Canal de St Quentin

We decided during lunch that we would stay at Lesdins for the rest of the day which would give me a chance to look at the washing machine.  Working in the confined space of a narrowboat is never much fun especially when doing something that isn’t enjoyable because you’re neither mechanically nor electrically minded.  I worked on the supposition that the interlock switch on the door was faulty and had a go at bypassing it.  This didn’t work so the next step would be to find a new part and have it shipped to a locker or a port somewhere ahead of us.

The two boats that had got held up behind us pulled up during the afternoon and came and introduced themselves.  They were Gary & Pat on a boat called Panache and Malcolm & Sue on Iskra; they were heading for Arras where they are leaving their boats for winter and heading back to the UK.  It turned out that Gary, unlike me, enjoyed fixing things and spent a while checking things out on the washing machine.  Much to his frustration he couldn’t bypass the switch either but at least had come to the same conclusion as me.

We all sat out drinking on the deck of Panache for the evening and we picked up a lot of tips of where to go on the River Somme as they had just spent over a month together on it.

Waiting for sunrise on Wednesday morning with our drinking companions behind us

On Tuesday we cruised five miles up five locks.