2. On the Move

By mid-March there was some improvement in the weather. We planned to leave the port and head north to Digoin and the Canal du Centre, on up the Rivers Saone and Doubs then onto the Canal du Rhone au Rhin, before heading down the Rivers Saone and Rhone to the Canal du Midi in the autumn. We had already explored most of the northern French canals some years before, so this time we wanted to find waters that were new to us.

As with most of our journeys, it was full moon when we were due to leave. We later realised it was the spring equinoctial full moon, and a special one that only happens about every ten years when the moon is closest to the earth. However, there were too many clouds for us to see it! It was the first time to move off our mooring, so it was a rather anxious moment. The day came wet and windy, blowing us onto the quay which made it more difficult to manoeuvre off, but Fat Alice was equipped with powerful bow-thrusters beneath her bosom, and with Martin at the wheel, she moved away from the quay like magic.

 Nutty’s first anxious barge trip

We had made quite a few friends in the port where everyone had welcomed us newcomers with open arms. Just before leaving, several friends came to bid us goodbye then hurried down to the lock to take our lines. We were moored at the far end of the port, whilst the lock was at the opposite end, so as we motored slowly towards the lock we passed all the other assortment of boats and barges. As we went by, people came out to wave and call to us, hooters hooted and we hooted back, for we were the first boat to move that season. We had not expected such well-wishing and it was very touching to receive it. As we reached the lock the wind was blowing strongly from the side and the barge slewed round as we approached, but Martin got it under control and we were in the lock with only a small bump dampened down with a prudently placed rubber tyre. There were more hugs and kisses before the lock emptied and we were on our way. What a send-off! But what a relief it was to be on the way after so many months of waiting and anticipation.

On the way at last. Canal du Rhone a Digoin

It was a shame the weather was so cold. The ropes seemed enormously heavy, full of winter rain, and by the time I had coiled them nicely after one lock, it was time to heave them out again as we reached the next lock. But we were not going far, and after 3 locks we moored up at Briennon. Martin brought the barge in perfectly; I jumped off, and in no time at all we were tied up and plugged into the electric box – our umbilical cord. A glass of red wine was in order, and lunch with hot soup was on the table. In spite of the weather it was lovely to have a change of scene, and the canal-side trees and houses made me want to start painting again. 

Briennon used to be a small manufacturing town producing tiles and bricks which were loaded onto the barges for transporting to all parts of France. The factory was closed but a single 38 metre working barge formed the basis of a small maritime museum. An antique crane that used to place the tiles or bricks into the barges had pride of place on the side of the small quay. Everything had been beautifully restored, but it was let down by the state of the local boats on the quayside that looked half derelict and uncared for, though I dare say the whole place would have looked very different in the summer season, when there would be the choice of three restaurants around the quay. 

A little further along the canalside, under the bridge, there were notice-boards showing what the canal usage was like in the old days. It mentioned how first of all men and their families pulled the barges along the canal with a harness over their shoulders just like a beast of burden, completing as much as 20 kilometres in a day. Then there came the use of horses, and even oxen and other animals, then the steam engine and finally the diesel-powered barges such as our own. Now the canal is only used for pleasure boats, there being no commercial traffic on this part at all. 

Also mentioned was the flood of 1846 when the waters of the River Loire flooded to the height of the canal and the boats at Briennon were all washed down onto the flood plain in the valley! After that, the canal was rebuilt and 3000 trees planted to support the banks along the lower side. This must be what makes it such a lovely, leafy canal.

Nutty takes a look at the big River Loire

Martin was worried about the state of one of the engine-starting batteries as he had been unable to start the engine with them the day before, having to make use instead of the domestic batteries. One was completely dead but the other was fine, and thinking we might have to purchase a new battery, we decided to ask the people on a barge permanently moored at Briennon whether this was possible in the small town, before deciding to move into the countryside where we knew it would be impossible. The man we asked turned out to be a real bargee called Serge. Over a coffee he told us (amongst many other things) that the lock at Roanne is notoriously difficult even for experienced bargees, because the water rushes from the river under culverts there to feed the canal. Also the lock is not in a straight line with the angle of the port. In a side-wind he said it was really difficult, so Martin felt a lot better about his slight bump on the side of the lock, especially since he had never handled Quo Vardis before.