Maxilly-sur-Saône (incongruity of protecting edible frogs)

We retrieved some of the mossie nets Karen made three years ago from the underbed storage recently as they’re such a boon keeping out all sorts of insects and maintaining a breeze through the boat.  The window glass is taken out and replaced with the purpose made netting that cleverly springs into the shape of the hole.  We’ve only replaced the four porthole windows so far this year, but it makes such a difference.  We also leave the top half of the front stable doors open and put a net in place, so we can sleep with the doors open.  The only drawback is that if we hear particularly heavy rain one night then it’ll be a mad scramble to put the windows back and shut the doors!

While on insects, the daylong cricket chorus seems to be constant at the moment and we love listening to them while lying in bed.  Combine that with the birdsong and frogs croaking and it’s a wonderful sound at this time of year.  I do wish I could recognise birds from their song like two friends in particular, Martin Hallam & Stephen Knapp, who are experts in their field making me most envious.  I remembered that in the 1960s my dad and my brother, Adrian, listened to birdsong LPs for seemingly hours.  It certainly taught them a lot about birdsong recognition, but I do recall that my dad wouldn’t listen to any of my LPs of the time such as Pink Floyd, Yes and Gong.

It was cloudy and muggy when we set off just before nine on Thursday and it wasn’t long before we were at the top lock where Karen had left the car the previous day.  As we were going downhill after that lock it would be a much simpler for one person to go through the locks on their own, so Karen and Buddy took the car to Piépape, where we hoped to stop for lunch, and then ran back up to meet me. 

After a while I was at the 4820-metre long Balesmes-sur-Marne tunnel.  As it operates one-way only, a traffic light system is in place operated by our lock télécommande.  I assume that because we’d agreed our start time with VNF that the tunnel lights immediately went green when I summoned them.  The lights at both sides are about a kilometre from the tunnel entrances as there are narrow sections leading up to each portal.

Green for go – 218 is (or was) the identity of our télécommande

The tunnel was typical of many French tunnels, stone lined, towpath on one side, fully lit and pairs of extractor fans every so often as there were no air vents.

Stone lined, lit, towpath and extractor fans

I emerged from the southern end about 40 minutes later into clearing skies and, arriving at the first lock the other side, I tied to a mooring post as I could see a boat was coming up. 

Waiting for the top lock next to a relatively fresh wood pile

While I was waiting, Karen & Buddy appeared, this was a lot earlier in the journey than we expected to meet so they had made good time.  The top lock is the control centre for the Saône side of the summit, and we gave the éclusiers details of where we were going and where we were expecting to moor each day.  They were most helpful about the conditions and places to moor and asked that if we change our minds and want to make other arrangements then we should just ring them.  I asked the éclusiere if we could exchange our télécommande as it needed a bit of brute force to get it to function.  She happily took it into the control centre but clearly the éclusier she was talking to about it wasn’t that keen on doing it.  She obviously talked him into it and came out with a replacement for us.

Top lock and the control centre

This was our first downhill lock since we left Châlons-en-Champagne over three months ago and about 200 kilometres away.  After refreshing our memories on how to handle locks single handily when going downhill Karen went inside as she had some offline work to do it and left me and Buddy to our own devices.  The first eight locks were close together and quite deep at over five metres each.  They were in a chain so as I exited one the next one had already set itself and was ready for us.  The only problem was that I had to use the operating rods, on one side, to empty each lock.  Well, it was only a problem if I forgot and went in the wrong side of the lock.  After making that mistake once and struggling to get the boat over to the correct side, I made sure I didn’t do it again.   

One of the locks in the chain – operating rods on the right

Going down on the correct side

The lock cottages were built to a different style to those on the Marne side of the summit and had rather quaint steps up to the doors at the front:

The lock information plates on the cottages were of the same design but quite a few had been replaced by modern equivalents:

The bottom one is clearly a modern replacement

The remaining locks of the day were shallower at around 3,5 metres and as they weren’t in a chain, I could use the télécommande rather than operating rods.  This was useful as it meant not having to touch anything, thus obviating the need for anti-bac.   The replacement télécommande (no. 202) worked perfectly all the way down to Piépape where we moored for lunch.   It was just as well we were mooring as I needed to stop as something was going wrong with the gear operation.  Over the last couple of locks, it had become increasingly difficult to change from forward to reverse or vice versa so something was clearly not right.  It needed looking at urgently to avoid ending up in a dangerous situation where I needed to change gear quickly.

Moored at Piépape for lunch

I let the engine cool while we had lunch then set about sorting out the problem.  It transpired that a bolt holding part of the gear linkage in place had worked itself loose, so it didn’t take long to get it sorted.  I’d had it apart a couple of years ago when replacing a cable so I can’t have tightened it to the right torque.  I’ve added it to the list of things to check when doing the engine service.  Once all was finished, Karen and Buddy drove down to Dommarien where we were mooring for the night and then walked back to meet me on my way down.

One of the lock cottages I went past had a little plaque indicating it had been renovated.  The sign also showed the source of the funds for the project, the largest contribution, 46%, being from an EU fund and 25% came from the village council, the remainder was split between the state and the Grand-Est region.

The canal on the north side of the summit follows the Marne valley, on this side it follows the Vingeanne valley, which means many places are named xxx-sur-Vingeanne which becomes quite a mouthful especially Montigny-Mornay-Villeneuve-sur-Vingeanne.   Being more remote meant there were fewer bridges but, again, the style had changed, and we were back to iron structures:

After picking Karen and Buddy up it wasn’t long before we were mooring up at Dommarien.

Moored at Dommarien for Thursday night

On Thursday we covered 23 kilometres down 16 locks.  After allowing time for lunch and repairs the journey took 6½ hours which equated to 6 lock-kilometres an hour (4.6 lock-miles an hour).

We had a different approach to cruising and car moving on Friday as Karen had to drive to Chaumont for her final vaccination and as it was over an hour’s drive each way she was clearly going to be away for some while.  We set off at 9.00am with Karen and Buddy walking down to meet me at the second lock. That way Buddy would get his morning walk and Karen would then walk back to Dommarien for the car, timing it right to get to her appointment on time.

Karen starting her walk back to Dommarien…

…and saying goodbye to her boys

As she drove out of Dommarien she spotted a riverside lavoir and couldn’t resist stopping to have a look.  She took a dozen or so pictures proving that it’s not just me who has a passion for these buildings.

Nice location for a lavoir

Washing stone alongside the river

As expected we really were in a remote part of the country with rarely any sign of habitation other than lock cottages and the occasional farmhouse.

A rare sight of a village - Percey-le-Grand

After a few locks we crossed a departmental boundary, going from Haute-Marne into Côte d’Or.  For some reason VNF had only installed a sign showing this for travellers going north.

The border

Not only were we changing départements we were moving into a new region, leaving Grand-Est and entering Bourgogne-Franche-Comté.  These names were introduced in 2016 so are not as well-known or as recognisable as the previous ones.  27 regions became 13 and in old money we were leaving Champagne-Ardennes and entering Burgundy. 

Considering that the canal had to be closed last year because of the volume of weed we’ve been amazed how little we have seen.  Not only have they cleared the weed, but overhanging trees and shrubs have also been well managed.  There are still occasional pounds with some weed in such as this one approaching lock 26, St-Maurice.

The lock cottage at lock 26 is now a restaurant but wasn’t open when I went through.

Restaurant at lock 26

It probably wouldn’t have been that pleasant for diners looking out over the weedy mooring and lock approach.

Not a particular pleasant mooring on the right for the restaurant

Another iron accommodation bridge

My journey went well until the eleventh lock where I wasted 30 minutes because the lock refused to recognise the télécommande.  When I called the control centre they managed to reset the lock remotely but once I was in, the télécommande still wasn't working and the gates remained resolutely open.   I wasted more time trying to avoid calling the control centre again but in the end I had to and I was rather embarrassed because I hadn’t realised that the mechanism reverts to manual when they intervene, therefore I had to use the operating rods rather than the télécommande.   

When I arrived at the next lock I could see a hotel boat coming up so hung back to give them room on their exit.  It soon became clear that the gates weren’t opening for them so secretly I was a bit pleased that it wasn’t just us that has problems.  This time it was well over 30 minutes before the lock was working and they were on their way.  

Hotel boat stuck

By this time, Karen had got back from Chaumont, driven further downstream to St-Seine-sur-Vingeanne, left the car and had walked up to meet me.   We made the rest of the journey together down to where she’d left the car at a small mooring just before the lock.

Moored at St-Seine-sur-Vingeanne

As we were mooring, a white admiral visited the boat flowers which was a lovely sign as that particular butterfly is one of my favourite summer butterflies.  It was quite a good spot for wildlife as we were able to watch frogs and crayfish through the side hatch during the evening.  I’m not that up on crayfish but suspect they were the invasive American crayfish.  Still, it was interesting seeing them hiding under stones and darting out for prey every so often.  An edible frog had taken a liking to a ledge just outside the hatch:

Our edible frog

I didn’t know that there are 18 species of frogs and toads in France and I also didn’t know that edible frogs are a protected species.  Typical of French rules, the edible frog isn’t protected if you’re capturing them for yourself or your family.  As Sophie pointed out on a call later, they hadn’t accounted for us having nine children when that law was made.

It had been even hotter on Friday, so we weren’t surprised to hear thunder rolling around during the evening.  Buddy was so hot that he couldn’t be bothered to stand up to eat his dinner!

We've never seen him this lazy

On Friday we cruised 22 kilometres down 13 locks and were still keeping to our target of reaching the bottom of the canal by the end of Saturday. 

We heard rain off and on during the night and knew rain was also forecast for Saturday.  As it was going to be warm still, we weren’t going to let the rain stop us from continuing with our plan.  It turned out not to be as bad as expected and it was more drizzle than rain and by the afternoon it was dry and the sun came out in the early evening.  Karen drove the car to Blagny, the halfway point of the day’s journey and walked back to meet me as I came down.

It was grey pretty much all day

Our timing went out almost immediately as the entry sluices at the first two locks were choked with weed and took forever to fill even with an éclusier constantly using a drag rake to remove the weed.  This delay was further compounded when at the third lock I pressed montant (upstream) instead of avalant (downstream) on the télécommande.  This meant the lock set itself for a non-existent boat coming upstream.  A magic eye at the lock entrance ensures the lock won’t continue operating until it sees a boat enter the lock.  Of course, magic eyes can’t see imaginary boats, so the bottom gates remained open.  This meant an apologetic call to the control centre who laughed but sent a guy out to sort things out.

He was really helpful and chatty (we’d also seen him the previous day) and wondered where Karen was, and I explained she was moving the car.  He said he would drive down and pick her up in case it started raining heavily.  I said she had Buddy with her, but he replied that it wasn’t a problem as he could go in the back of the van.  I knew she wouldn’t be happy with this so when he left, I phoned to warn her.  As it was, she was only a couple of kilometres away by this time, so he didn’t insist when she declined his invitation.

When we reached Blagny, Karen took the car again and left it three kilometres short of our destination and once again walked back to meet me.  The rest of the trip was uneventful with no villages to see other than Cheuge where the éclusier was on hand to operate the only lift bridge on the Saône side of the summit. 

Lift bridge at Cheuge

He warned me that a commercial was on its way and, as luck would have it, we met on a straightish section, so even that went without a hitch.    A bit further on we went under the impressive railway viaduct at Oisilly but unfortunately it was obscured from view for most of the time by trees.

Oisilly viaduct, opened in 1888

Looking backwards

When we reached Maxilly-sur-Saône we could see there was another boat at the mooring.  The couple on board came out to greet us; they were Brits who’ve been living on their seagoing boat in the Med for the last six years.  They were now on their way back to the UK via Calais and were keen to pick our brains about the journey up to Calais as the canals were all new to them.

They told us that as we were arriving, they couldn’t see our stern flag so couldn’t tell our nationality; however, when they saw Karen emerge from the cratch to moor up they knew immediately that we were English as she had a mug of tea in one hand!

Moored at Maxilly-sur-Saône

On Saturday we cruised 26 kilometres down 13 locks and are looking forward to relaxing for a while after three long (for us) days.