Sunday, December 16 dawned bright and clear and we, as usual on these dark nights that don’t dawn until around 9.00am, rose late - or latish, at about 9.30. A busy day with preparations for a curry lunch with Bill and Laurel Cooper. Sunday lunches have become a bit of a feature of our weekly life and a way to get to know some of the locals and other blow-ins like us. On this occasion it was the turn of the Coopers. Bill, an ex British Navy officer has been retired for some years as he is now over 70. He, his wife Laurel and their boat ‘Hosanna’ have been the length and breadth of Europe, especially the southern areas, incredibly including Greece and other Mediterranean destinations. This in a converted canal barge. Bill also admits to having surveyed the Cocos Islands shortly after WWII as a precursor to their official hand over to Australia. As we have friends who have built cottages on Cocos and we have visited the islands to scuba dive and fish the lagoon, we were interested in this piece of information.

The lunch was a great success with a very good range of chicken and meat dishes accompanied by a wide selection of condiments. Laurel also brought some pappadums which added to the authenticity and flavour of the meal after which we waved them back to their boat as we drifted off to an early night and woke early to a toilet that had decided to fill itself up and spill a quantity of water into the bilge. We have made a study of the ins and outs of the toilet now to the extent that we think we have it sussed and can overcome these small inconveniences.

Having had a fairly indolent Sunday we decided that the long walk to town was in order rather than making use of our other conveyances - the bikes or the scooter. These walks are the only real exercise we get during the winter months and we really need to do a lot more of them, as inconvenient as they may be when there is a quantity of shopping to be brought back to the boat. The trip allowed me to get the bits I needed however in order to fix the outside light that guides us and our guests on and off the boat after 5.30pm when it gets dark to the extent of pitch.

Getting on and off these boats in an exposed mooring that collects ice, rain and snow can be hazardous and the exercise needs to be taken slowly and carefully with lots of light and preferably, something solid to hang on to. We have a narrow, slatted walkway, perched about a metre and a half above a sheet of ice under which is freezing water, guarded by a steep bank. A dousing in the canal after a fall off a boat or walkway would not be conducive to good health.

During this period we had also contracted a virus - in our PC - which had not been fixed properly by our Norton anti virus software leading to a string of worsening problems. In order to exorcise the little devil I had to erase some system files which could only be done from a DOS boot as once the PC booted into Windows these files were used by the system and therefore protected by it - ergo - they could not be erased. Having overcome that problem and once the system had automatically replaced the files (as it was supposed to) we still had the virus and worse - had sent it on to others. This called for more drastic action, so more files were deleted and copied from Bill Cooper’s clean copy on his PC as these are not files that can be copied from the Windows 98 CD. I’m not sure how other less experienced people would cope with all these problems - or is it that I create them as a result of a little bit of knowledge being a dangerous thing ?Finally the PC was back up and running and so far (touche bois [wood]) we have had no other problems. We celebrated by having drinks with Matthew, recently returned from a week or so piloting 747s around the world, or at least to Fiji and back, and Caroline.

The next morning, M decided to ride the scooter to Dole to find some jars in which to put her special Xmas chutney and lime pickle as presents to the locals. She departed well rugged up and with lots of advice as to safety and mechanical issues. Out of the mist some 5 hours later emerged the scooter and M without the jars - none to be found in the big town of Dole ! (They were later turned up on the shelves of the local supermarket). I’m sure I did something useful that day but for the life of me I can’t remember what it might have been. Wednesday is the day we have our French lesson and this we did at the Tourist Office in St Jean under the expert tutelage of the girl that runs the office - Corrine. This is always a fun time as we have a group of roughly the same capabilities and it’s fun to try to half understand and half guess what it is that Corrine wants us to do. We get through with humour and some knowledge being passed on at the same time. This was also a BIG DAY since Bill had some time before suggested that we should get all the boaties together for a fun night before Xmas and this suggestion translated itself into a night of bowling and sausages with chips at a nearby town bowling alley. We had taken over the place with its very narrow 4 lanes of a very different type of bowls than any of us had ever seen. Similar to the ‘Fairlanes’ American setup but with only 8 pins, smaller bowls with no finger holes and a VERY undulating set of lanes. This added to the challenge and the 21 of us were divided into teams to fight it out for the championship, after drinks and dinner. Dinner was simple, a barbecue type sausage and a portion of a much larger ‘worst’ type sausage with a large pile of fries and some crusty bread, all washed down with some very inferior Cotes de Rhone or a bitter white that tasted more like retsina than wine. All of this was taken in fine humour however and the night was a great hoot and an outstanding success. Caroline and Matthew provided our transportation in their ‘old charabanc’ a somewhat disreputable Renault of a larger size than ours.

The next morning Matthew and I set about getting our two boats re-supplied with water from the outlet across the canal since our side was completely iced up. I had the job of heaving the line, weighted with a small wrench in a sock. Some found this somewhat amusing but it would not have been very funny if the wrench, unprotected, had gone through the window of the boat that Matthew was standing on across the canal from Van Nelle. After a couple of tries I managed to get the weight and its line close enough to Matthew for him to reach it and drag the attached hoses across. A few hours and we were both filled. Unfortunately by this time it was late and Matthew disengaged the hoses but left them stretched across the canal, mostly underwater. The next morning, predictably, they were frozen. I extracted them and laid them on the ‘park’ on a downward slope for a few days with the vague hope that they would thaw and empty themselves of the iced water inside them so they could be stowed for later use. Some days later they were completely rigid and with a great deal of effort coiled and relegated to the engine room where they eventually thawed out.

Friday called for a quick trip into town for the mail, fresh bread, some Xmas shopping and a trip to the bricolage for some research into hardware to do some jobs on Van Nelle. I got about 100 metres up the road from VN when from a completely hidden position behind Charles’ wood pile came the flock of geese his wife Patricia keeps. I had a split second to react in order not to seriously damage one of these wretched chooks and automatically hit the rear brake. Wrong ! A scooter had very small wheels that give it very limited stability. Attached to the wheels are tyres with a very smooth pattern. When the rear brake is locked up on icy roads the inevitable conclusion is scooter and rider in a prone position following load crashing and sliding noises. This occasion was no different and I lay dazed for a minute of two as I counted the bruises and sprains and hoped to hell I had not damaged the Peugeot mortally as it had stopped and smelt strongly of fuel. To Patricia’s worried inquiries from one of the windows of her barge and to the accompaniment of the screeching of the rapidly retreating geese I arose, with dignity, picked up the bike, straightened my somewhat muddied clothing, re-mounted and tried the starter. The scooter responded after about 3 or 4 tries and reassuring Patricia I was alive and not in need of immediate hospitalisation, I

continued my trip to St Jean, shaken not stirred. As I rode I started feeling the onset of the minor injuries I had sustained, an obviously well sprained thumb, a bruised hip and a wrenched ankle. Oh well, it could have been much worse. I inspected the bike on arrival in town and found a fair number of scratches on the plastic side panels but nothing more serious. More experience I don’t really need.

Bad things come in threes they say - I had crashed the bike, now I received a notice that I had only three days to use or lose the current phone credit of 174 French francs. The way the system works in this country is that you buy a card with a denomination of 160 francs or one hour - or a lesser amount and apply that to the phone. You have one month to use it or lose it - a scandalous arrangement by comparison to the 12 months given in Australia ! While we depend on the mobile, the cards don’t last more than a week or so but now that we have a land line and hardly use the mobile, it works very much in favour of the phone company. The third issue came when I picked up the mail which included a bill for the first month of the land line - 865 francs. We had expected about 500 but 865 was a shock. We will just have to be more communications efficient. I also received a note from the Mairie requesting more information to back up my application for a long stay visa. After getting my current month’s bank account balance sheets from the internet I put the documents into the Hotel de Ville only to be asked for Maureen’s passport as well - that was predictably on the boat requiring another trip back to the ancien ecluse and back into town.

Christmas presents bought, wrapped and delivered we began to look forward to Christmas and to drinks on board Hosanna with Bill and Laurel, Caroline, Charles and Patricia and another couple just arrived for Xmas on their boat ‘Passe Pierre’‘ John and Rosemary with their teenagers Oliver and Sophie. A strange time for drinks I thought- the invitation was to join Bill and Laurel "At Home’ from 1130 to 1300. This was not lunch but substantial nibbles were provided and much Xmas news and cheer exchanged along with the mulled wine, champers and orange (Buck’s Fizz) and a new one on me - hot buttered rum. I didn’t try it but Maureen swears by it, and she ought to know, having consumed most of it ! We had a rabbit that night - very nice - cooked in a big pot on our pot belly stove. The fire is a great stove and is being used often now for the traditional ‘pot au feu’ cooking - boeuf Bourgogne, coq au vin or lapin au feu.

It snowed this night as it had for a few days now but the falls are getting heavier and look gorgeous until the thin sunlight melts the covering in the mornings.

Since we had to get rid of the phone credit we took the opportunity to ring friends before Xmas and ended up speaking for far longer than the credit allowed. We fortunately have generous friends who ring us back ! Thanks Ian and Helen.

The beginning of the week also saw us get the car back so we could join Roger and Lindy on Xmas day. We had previously provided them with the car as they have taken a ‘gite’ or apartment for a couple of weeks since their two girls are joining them for the holiday period. They picked it up by riding bikes over to pick up the car, putting the bikes in the boot and driving off into the sunset. This time they drove over to us, picked us up and took us to their temporary home for lunch after which we drove back to St Jean. Caroline was to head off to spend Christmas with Matthew the next day and since I have the job of feeding Puss - her cat - while she is away I suggested that we get together on Vixit so I could get a better relationship with the cat which had avoided me like I was plagued the last time I had the job. We went over for a pre Xmas drink and I spent a few fruitless times trying to cosy up to a cat which had very different ideas. Oh well, we will just growl at each other again I guess.

We were up reasonably early to make (and receive) phone calls from Australia and to tear into our presents, prepare and drive over to Roger and Lindy’s for a very traditional lunch of turkey with all the bits ! M’s mother rang early to wish us a merry and a happy and let us talk to our son Simon who was lunching with them. Given the 7 hour time difference it was late in the afternoon there but early in France. We called Sean (our other son) who was having a somewhat simple and lonely day near the pool in Port Hedland - a somewhat difficult ‘outback’ town in Australia (really a mining sea port some thousands of kilometres north of Perth).Wrapping paper removed we found that we had been very similar in choosing presents for each other - warm, water proof boots, scarves, gloves, socks - the sort of things that we definitely need in the current weather. A quick breakfast and pack up of sleeping things for the overnight stay and we were off about 1145 for Seurre, the town that R&L are in. 20 minutes or so had us arriving at their place and shortly afterwards we had glasses of bubbly in our hands, the Cullen’s Cab Sav and Rosemount Chardonnay were breathing and the turkeys were being finished off. All preparations having been successfully completed we sat down to a sumptuous lunch shortly after 2.00pm and got up some hours later.

It was a very pleasant Xmas - made even better since it was our first in Europe and it was a white one, the snow had not let us down and was dusting the fields and houses all around. Great to spend time with fun people including Annie and Jennifer, R&L’s delightful daughters.

The next day we were driven back to St Jean to change presents for the right size and back to the boat for a very quiet boxing day where a long walk (about 8km) to Esbarres was the highlight. Even 24 hours after Xmas I have to admit I was still feeling it’s effects and was pleased to take a long healing sleep and rack up the first post Christmas AFD (alcohol free day).Thursday was predictably a slow day but positively early by comparison with Friday when it took all our energy to get up before lunch. The pace is telling on us !

We walked to town this time, not in the opposite direction, as we had a few things to do, like picking up the mail - including a couple of beautiful jumpers sent over by M’s mum, Mary - Thanks Mary, they fit really well and being 96% lambs wool, are very warm. I spent the rest of the day watering the boat - not to make it grow but filling the water tanks - as we had about 5 loads of washing to do. That required heaving the line over the canal again, and since I did not have Matthew on hand to assist this time I used a much heavier spanner as the weight and thankfully threw it well clear of the opposite boat.

The boat opposite is an ex rental and has positively lethal decks - very, very slippery. I nearly went into the water (or onto the ice) twice - once getting onto the deck and once negotiating the walkway to it. The deed was done finally by 5.30pm just as it was getting dark and I elected to leave the heaving line in place, reckoning that no-one was about to take their boat out of or into the ancien ecluse during this period of deep freeze. So far that has proven to be correct but I will take up the line after Caroline returns on the 29th and refills her tanks.

We accepted a suggestion from friends in St Jean that we attend the New Year’s revelries at L’Amiral, a ‘bistro’ in St Jean where the owner at least tries to put on meals that are not straight out of the deli counter at Casino - the supermarket. (Another ‘restaurant’ has daily specials which can be found at half the price in the ready to eat section at Casino). He (the owner) is also progressively more friendly and generous as the nights progress in his restaurant as he imbibes at twice the rate of the guests. This works in our favour often as he starts dealing out large quantities of liquors onto desserts or just into glasses as the end of the night approaches. For 200french francs (about $A54) we are supposed to receive champagne (it will probably be a blanc de blanc) all drinks (his house wine is just bearable) and a three course dinner (??????). With the kind of crowd that normally attends L’Amiral it should be a hoot. [More later with pics perhaps - if we remember to A) take a camera and B) use it on the night !]. I should finish this explanation with a description of Le Patron - he is short, rotund, very dark and has the most incredibly rasping, gravel based voice - basso profundo. He is always dressed in pants that look like pyjama pants and slightly grubby tops - tee shirts mostly despite the weather. He is funny, kind, irascible and much loved by his regulars and his children.

Friday saw us awake late, get up even later, study French for a bit over an hour, clean the pot belly and re-stock the wood inside from the pile outside and then ride into town. A few pieces of business had to be transacted like paying the huge first month’s phone bill and in order to do it without overdrawing the La Poste account, putting money into my French account. I had planned for the bills to be paid automatically from this account but somehow this has been overlooked by France Telecom and we now receive an account which can be paid by just signing it and returning it with an authorisation form (at which they will deduct from our account) or sending a cheque.

I had written out a cheque - all correct in French and with all the bits in the right places but had to tear it up when I had the option of the authorisation explained to me by our very helpful friend Catherine at H2O - she sold us her car and has been helping us with details of bureaucracy ever since. However - this was my first Euro bill and payment - I suppose that is something to remember.

One of the downside results of the ride into town unfortunately was that our bike wheels, which do not have mud guards, splattered specks of mud over the backs of our newly washed jackets - bugger ! The snow has all gone since we had a big change of weather overnight - it rained pretty consistently all night, washing snow and a fair bit of ice away and replacing the surfaces with mud. As already reported, the mud around here is magnetic - it is attracted to everything, especially boots and gets right into the carpets and all over the decks and walkways. We take our outside shoes / boots off as soon as we come into the wheelhouse but it still manages to gravitate into the boat. Fortunately it dries and can be vacuumed. A task that happens more and more regularly.

I have the task of feeding our neighbour’s cat while Caroline is away in Amsterdam with her bloke - Matthew the pilot. He has a three day stay-over there. They don’t call them lay-overs in these days of political correctness ! Puss has had every opportunity to become a mate but has steadfastly refused to take up the option despite my continued acts of kindness - so we have a sort of stand off relationship. I unlock and enter and Puss streaks past on his way out of their boat. He returns late in the afternoon unless it is very cold, in which case he stays close to the boat and returns before I finish cleaning and replenishing the various cat dishes and bird seed containers and cleaning out his kitty litter. The other day the cold must have affected him as he lay still enough for me to give him a bit of a scratch behind the ears before giving me ‘the look’. If he stays in doors and I try to approach him to dish out the ration of TLC he normally just stalks away, giving me a studied view of his backside - a thing cats do to show their disdain, but on this occasion I think he was not prepared to let his cushion get cold.

I spent some time today breaking ice around the boat - no mean feat despite the small change of temperature we have recently experienced. I used the heavy deck bucket, a solid piece of black plastic with heavy rope attached, filled it with water from an area that was melted nearby and dropped it from a great height onto the ice beside the hull. This had two effects. The first was to shoot a geyser of water straight back up at me and the second was to break off a small section of ice. It was from this exercise that I was able to measure the thickness of the ice sheets surrounding Van Nelle. It is pretty consistently 6 - 8 cm thick - about 3 inches. We are fortunate here in the ancien ecluse since we seem to be a fair bit warmer than the marina in St Jean and the section of the Bourgogne canal that makes up the Port Fluviale as our ice has not been as early or as thick. Theirs had human footprints on it through the snow.

We had been told by Charles that there would be a warmer period - this seems to be it - even the weather forecasters predicted most of the changes we have seen today although they disagreed about the extent of the rain or the variation in temperatures, some predicting up to 7 degrees the others about 4-5C. The good outcome of all of this may be a reduction in the rapid use of both diesel fuel and wood as we maintain a reasonable temperature in the boat.

For anyone interested in some operating statistics - very rough ones - we have been operating on an overnight and morning working temp of 15C and pushing that up to 20C at night using the pot belly stove. On that basis we are using about 65 - 70 litres of diesel a week, about 60 pieces of wood and about 70kwh of electricity (we do not have electric heaters). This adds up to a weekly cost of ff 650 or $A 200. At say $A 800 per month plus $A 250 for the mooring cost and $A 150 for the phone - that’s about $ 1200 per month. We spend about ff 1,000 on groceries per week and another ff 500 on wines and meals out plus ff 500 for fuel in the car for a grand total of $ 3,500 per month.

Well that’s enough to depress me at the moment so I will suspend this session of the journal for another week or so as it is Friday 28 December and I will take up the tale again after the New Year.

Rain began Saturday and the news that night told os floods in the north-east of France. No doubt we will get some run-off from the rain further north of us as it drains southwards through the Saone River valley (which we are on) on it’s way to the mighty Rhone and finally emptying into the Mediterranean. Since it seemed to be a stay at home day we spent the day re-pressurising the water central heating system and designing the third and final bed which we will manufacture ourselves. This bed, in what is currently the third bedroom acting as a store room will be 2 metres long but only 120cm wide. That’s about the size of a rental boat double bed and big enough for us while we have guests in the other two rooms. This will not be a frequent occurrence but having the third room available gives us much greater options.

With the increase in local temperatures that are associated with rainy weather, the ice on the ground and around the boats in the ecluse is beginning to melt. No doubt this will add to the increase in river flow and the possibility of flooding in this region.

Sunday saw us on Passe Pierre, the boat behind us, which is owned by a couple of British teachers and occupied at Xmas and their term breaks by themselves - Rosemary and John Bullock, their daughter Sophie and sons Oliver and Tim. The third son is currently working in Egypt and he announced his engagement to his 5 year partner as a kind of Xmas present to his folks, accompanied by tickets to visit them when appropriate. A nice way to get some sun during these cold winter months. The meeting on PP was another of these English "at home" drinks sessions, apparently a tradition in the UK as people head home from Church and stop en route before finally going to their own hearths for the roast beef Sunday lunch. I am not comfortable with them since they generally start at 11.00 or 11.30 and go on to 1.00pm with nibbles and drinks taking the place of lunch in our case. We will stick to having people over for Sunday lunches.

The news told of extensive additional flooding north of St Jean.

We are to dine and carouse at L’Amiral this evening and in preparation I went into town to obtain some cash from the ‘distributeurs’ and found that not one of the cash dispensers was doling out money of either kind - Francs or Euros. I hope Giles at L’Amiral has a credit card machine. The few little bits of shopping therefore had to be done using the credit capacity of the La Poste plastic card I have and that worked fine.

Later in the afternoon we received a phone call from Lindy and Roger, who, with their daughter Annie, were having lunch at Autun, a picturesque village about 70km from St Jean. The car had refused to start, Roger suspected the starter motor and did we have roadside assistance. I advised we did as part of the insurance and directed him to the card on the windscreen. Another call some time later advised that the assistance number had refused to assist since we were ‘not registered’. They caught a bus to Beaune and a taxi to Seurre. This is one of the risks of loaning / hiring an oldish car to friends and was a great aggravation. We arranged to recover the car later, which we were able to do the next day, courtesy of Caroline and a short tow that jump started the car and enabled Roger to drive back to Seurre, where we left it at the Renault dealers yard for repairs the next day.

Meanwhile, we attended the soiree at L’Amiral that evening with 9 other disreputable boaties. A five course (coarse ?) meal of a plate of appetisers, oysters or escargots, sorbet swimming in a lethal liquor, boar or river fish, cheeses and mixed desserts. All this was washed down by house red and white wines, cocktails, champagne and liqueurs plus thick short black coffees. I can’t say that the quality was ‘gourmet’ but the effort was there and the result a hilarious and appetising evening that we left them to it after dancing till well past 1.00am. The whole evening was provided for the fixed price of 200 francs per person, approx $A 55. As you can guess, the next morning and after noon was taken fairly quietly except that we dragged ourselves off to Autun to rescue the car.

That done it was time to wonder at the water level which had started to rise the day before and was now undulating upward. How far would it go we wondered and what effect would it have on the boat and the moorings.

Over the next few days the water level came up about a metre to just under the level of our passarelle, the walkway or gangway to the boat from the shore. In preparation for the gangway to be inundated I moved the concrete blocks that had been provided during last year’s flood, onto the passarelle. This would give us approximately 9 inches or about 20cm extra height, after that it would be a matter of wading ashore or staying on the boat !The region now has considerable flooding over the lower lying paddocks and fields but the roads and bridges are all well clear. The VNF, the French bureaucracy responsible for the inland waterways, adjusts the settings of the locks and barrages up and down the major rivers to ease the probability of flooding - but sometimes gets it wrong. Last year they held up the head waters too long and when they could no longer contain the water it created the worst flooding at Avignon the town had ever seen. Perhaps they should just let it do what it has done for thousands of years, spread out into the country side, thereby providing it’s own relief and spreading the threat onto farm lands that are lying fallow during winter anyway.

Thursday saw us invite the Bullocks aboard for drinks since they were to leave for the UK on Saturday morning, thereby being unable to attend our next Sunday lunch. Caroline was also invited but as it was the night she had to pick Matthew up from the Dijon station, she was unable to attend.

We woke on Friday 4 January with the boat on a decided list to starboard (the right side as you look forward from the stern towards the bow or front of the boat). During the night the water level had dropped about a metre - perhaps the VNF had opened the sluices allowing the waters to subside on the river. Our ice pack on the starboard side had crowded the boat against the mooring and the steel pile was under our substantial rubbing strake which caused the port side of the boat to be held up and the starboard side to drop, hence the list. I had re-arranged the rubber glissoirs I had attached earlier to the piles at the end of the passarelle to avoid the boat being hooked up but had no influence over the water freezing against the side of the boat and therefore pushing us hard up against them. We spent half an hour or so armed with our two mammoth boat hooks, long poles with vicious iron hooks attached to their ends, breaking up the ice immediately alongside. This allowed the boat to move away from the piles and righted the ungainly angle.

This evening was Caroline and Matthew’s annual Christmas Eve party, postponed since Matthew had a period of flying duty that had finished only the night before, and about 20 people attended on Vixit, their barge. A lovely spread of mostly vegetarian curries and a wide array of other appetising morsels accompanied by a fine selection of reds, whites, sparkling and still wines. We stayed till about 2.00am before retiring for another sleep-it-off evening and late morning.

By Saturday 5 January, the weather had improved dramatically with sharp, clear, sunny days and clear cold nights. Ice was reforming but the days were a delight to be out walking, riding the bikes and even braving the wind chill factor on the scooter. A couple of visits to town had the shopping completed for the Sunday lunch to which John and Jan and Caroline and Matthew were to join us.

Sunday was a clear, bright day for which M had prepared a Moroccan lemon chicken dish accompanied by cous-cous, while I arranged the entre of Jambon terrine and the wines, 1998 Medocs and 1999 Bordeaux plus a champagne or two and several bottles of Saint Veran, a lovely local white wine. Caroline generously brought over dessert that had survived the hungry hordes at her party and John and Jan contributed crusty fresh bread and a pleasant red wine. Lunch slowly wound up at about 4.00pm but Caroline and Matthew stayed on till 8.00pm, chatting and flying a Boeing 737 through Hong Kong on the Flight Simulator.

Monday dawned with heavy Hoare frost and the sun struggling to get out from behind heavy clouds. It would be a cold day and I gathered some of the few remaining logs for the fire and left a message for Caroline to see if we could get a re-supply of fire wood as soon as possible as we have less that a week’s supply left. We will need another two stairs to see us through to March and we will also have to re-fill the diesel tank as we have now used half our supply through the central heating furnace. Electricity remains a minor item with about $ 20 per week being the current (‘scuse the pun) expense in that commodity since we have no electric heaters and the lights and pumps all work off the batteries which take little current to recharge.

We have just returned from a quick trip to Switzerland. While that sounds pretty exotic it’s actually only 100km from our base and even our old Renault managed to make that in a couple of hours. We went past the border into to Lausanne and had to convince the border guards to stamp the passports - essential for our visa applications, and stayed overnight in Montreaux, the scene of the famous annual Jazz Festival. Lausanne, a large city and fairly industrial on the outskirts was OK in the city centre as it was untouched wars that destroyed French and German towns and old buildings. It's on a huge lake and has lovely old hotels and shops right along the waterfront (which is extensive) and punctuated by many marinas with large numbers of (mostly) small yachts.

We stopped off for lunch in Lausanne and to do some site seeing. This was made very easy since there is an extensive underground car park adjacent to the largest waterfront hotel, right in front of the best part of the old city centre. The shops were all displaying sale signs and some of the discounts were extensive - more than 50% on many designer labels. We could have saved a fortune if we had an equally sized one to spend, but we held off the urges and headed for a pizza / pasta restaurant up some narrow stairs, near the city square. We were served by a humourous middle aged waiter who wanted to speak English as we greeted him in Italian and switched to French to order. We really are becoming quite multi lingual.

The road between Lausanne and Montreaux runs along the lake on one side and has amazing, steep terraces filled with grape vines. I had no idea that the Swiss made wines. (We tried a white at dinner and it was very drinkable). We passed the Nestle Headquarters and were amazed by the number of Swiss watch brands on sale in the jewellery shops once we had a chance to wander past them. That, plus their famous chocolates and the amazing scenes of high mountains ringing the lake, snow capped majestic peaks rearing through the morning mist, made up an unforgettable memory of our first day in Switzerland.

We stayed in an old house that has been converted into a small hotel, run by an old woman who was extremely helpful re the walks and local sights. She was a bit frantic the next morning however as I sincerely thought, and reported to her, that my jacket had been removed from the room while we were out at dinner. It turns out I had used it under the pillow for a bit of extra height and, having done so after a long dinner and in the middle of the night, I completely forgot where I had put it. Since it was nearly the same colour as the sheets and pillows I had not turned it up in the search and nor had Maureen. I did some really great grovelling to sooth her aggravation that we should think the hotel was not secure - in Switzerland of all places.

After we arrived and unpacked we took the walk she recommended along the waterfront to the town centre. There is a pedestrian road along the lake that has been carefully made into a continuous garden with the most amazing creatures created out of some kind of thin vine. Dragons and elves, horses and small furry creatures are intermingled with the pots and flower beds, currently sleeping through the winter chills. It is a good half hour walk into the town where we sought out a restaurant for dinner and sussed out the Casino and shops. Again, the shops were full of discounted goods with designer labels well to the fore. Again we resisted and taking advantage of the bus pass we had been provided by the old manageress, we took the frequent bus service back to the hotel.

After a short rest and a change we drove to town for dinner and a look around by night. We had chosen an Italian restaurant up a small cul-de-sac and were not disappointed with the service or food. The place was run by a young man and woman who spoke excellent English and presented us with an extensive menu and wine list, advised us about the Swiss wines and the food to go with them and were quick and courteous with the response to our requests. We tried a Swiss white wine which was named the Eagle but strangely had a picture of a lizard on it’s label. It was pleasant, unassuming but fresh and well complimented the entrees. The main courses were accompanied by a Valpollicello, an Italian red.

We wandered to the casino after dinner but were turned away since to gain entry one needed a passport. I had mine but Maureen had left hers in the hotel. It was not a disappointment however as we were close enough to the action to realise that the one room was filled with slot machines, one armed bandits as they are known and we had no great desire to stand around pushing coins into an ever hungry slot.

Returning to the hotel we tried to get the two single beds to resemble a double with no luck and went to sleep, only to wake the next morning to the realisation that my jacket had disappeared. Leaving Madame with the unwelcome news we took the car to the Chateau Chillon (pronounced chee-oh) and I froze as we explored this extensive and beautifully preserved fortified castle, built right on the lake. Armed with a guiding pamphlet, visitors are directed through the many rooms, dungeons, stores, kitchens, halls, balconies and courtyards. Many of the huge rooms have huge fireplaces but unfortunately none were lit and we became steadily colder. Fortunately there was a few places where the sun could get through and I took advantage of these to keep from freezing completely. It took about an hour and a half to get through the Chateau after which we returned to the Hotel to take our final belongings into the car and head off. But first the confrontation with Madame.

I had checked back with the restaurant to ensure I had not left the jacket there at dinner but was assured I had not, so it was with the added assurance from Maureen that we had definitely left it in the room and that neither of us had been able to unearth it that I re-entered the property. Madame rushed out and almost danced with indignation as she announced that she had discovered the offending article of clothing under the pillow. I made it my business to grovel convincingly for some time to calm her down before we got underway to return home.

The trip back gave us another perspective of the farm and ski fields along the way, not grand in this part of Switzerland (and later France) but pleasant and inviting - especially to those becoming a bit too old for the ultimate thrills of the black downhill runs - the advanced terrifying ones. We enjoyed an easy drive back and arrived at Van Nelle in time for a late lunch.

The weather turned really warm - by winter standards. I guess it's got up to about 6 or 7C outside so we turned our thoughts to outdoor activities and went for some long walks and even did a bit of work on Nellie. Unfortunately this just turned up the errors I made originally so we ended up stripping off much of the previous fibre glass repairs. Then the rain came so Little Nelle is back to being holy.

This week we decided to manufacture the third bed and I began by making extensive and careful plans to ensure I didn’t waste the effort or the timber bought for the purpose. We also had to organise Australia Day since I had repeatedly threatened a Fete on the 26th of January and was going to be held to my word by the expatriates - none of whom are Australian. But first, we received a parcel from my sister Sandra which contained a book about Great Grandfather - CY O’Connor and a set of videos of the WWII Changi Prison camp in Singapore in which my Father was interned for some time before apparently assisting the Emperor with the Burma railway and ending up in Japan as labour. These were great gifts as the nights are long, dark and cold and reading and good English language videos are a great way of diffusing their effect.

The bed we were to make had to fit into the smallest of the three bedrooms and because of the door, overhang and radiator, was only able to fit one way. This was, ro be higher than the radiator, narrower than the doorway and tucked under the overhang to allow length. The dimensions therefore reduced the size of the bed to 1.20m by 2.00m, a bit narrow but quite OK for two. Being the third bed, we don’t see it being used often and if needed, will be used by us so that guests have full sized beds to spend their leisure hours in.

The room also was not quite square which required a bit of planning but soon we had a platform secured against two walls with slats across the bed frame and boards on the front and side to secure the mattress. A mattress, or ‘matelas’ as it is in French, was bought from a ‘literie’ - bed shop - in Dijon and furnished with a new doona and covers. Being quite high it enables lots of items to be stored underneath and so the room continues to be useful in absorbing items not required everyday. Some furniture items such as the second refrigerator (a bar frig) and a large set of drawers were re-positioned in other parts of the boat.

Australia Day, we decided, would be held at a restaurant, since it is too cold to hold and outside barbecue - one of the original ideas. We chose L’Amiral since Giles, it’s owner’ is a character, offers great value and is very willing to assist. I had a conference with him, partly in English, partly in French and we decided the following.

Saturday, 26 January at 7.30pm will see an all inclusive three course meal comprising mini meat pies for entree, rack of lamb accompanied by mashed potatoes and peas for main course with Pavlova to finish. We have been able to purchase Australian red and white wines and a dozen cans of Fosters beer to start off the evening with. Entertainment will be Australian songs (by me) recitations (Maureen) and jokes - everyone. We have a set of Two-Up pennies which may well come out into the open later on.

The list was prepared, marketing strategy considered, flyers produced and circulated and sales calls organised. A week later we reported to Giles that we had 17 people booked and he admitted to another 2 or 5 depending on whether or not they are double bookings with our RSVPs. So all is ready for that big night.

The other highlight of the week was the loan of a digital satellite TV set up from Roger and Lindy that we eventually set up and coaxed into action, attached to our TV. It gives us a range of shopping, health, travel and middle eastern programmes along with CNN and ITV news, a Turner Movie channel and a couple of documentary channels - all (except the middle eastern) in English. We are madly recording movies to watch when R&L take the set back in a week or so.

Sunday Lunch was a decorous affair attended by two New Zealanders, Alan and Ann, who have a boat which was stuck in the mud at St Symphorien but is now afloat, Anne’s sister and a friend plus their son Charlie and M and I of course. Roast Pork with cherries and veg, pate before and an apple pudding with ice cream to finish. Very pleasant Beaujolais Villages to accompany together with a bottle of bubbly (the local Bourgogne cremant) and a white, the Macon Blanc.

Saturday 19th was Judith Reed’s birthday back in Oz. We had sent a card and tried to call on the day but had no reply so left a message. It was also the day that I got to drive Matthew’s Cobra, a brutish sports car assembled from a kit by he and his son some few years ago and now mostly kept in their garage in St Symphorien. With their workmen refurbishing the house, the garage is needed for tools etc so Caroline had arranged for it to be stored in a large shed on a neighbour’s property in St S. She however did not want to drive it so I was recruited. What a great thrill. It is an extremely attractive and very powerful open sports machine with controls that feel more like a racing car than a gentleman’s vehicle. Unfortunately the distance was short and the weather cold but the experience was very hot.

During the week we also resumed the French lessons and had to apply for a Carte de Longue Sejour for Maureen. The prefecture at Dijon is being difficult about mine and the Mairie at St Jean advised this way would expedite the process - the alternative is to have to leave the country and apply from Australia, a thought that escapes description.

As we are now entering our 11th week in the Ancien Canal at St Jean we have used a fair amount of the diesel fuel we had aboard and will have to arrange a truck to refuel us in the next couple of weeks. We also will have to buy yet another gas bottle as we are now using the no 1 French one and as they will not take the Dutch ones we had we must refit our boat with the French version.

Week of 21 January

We started this week on a beautiful sunny Monday with a car trip to Seurre to pick up Lindy and Roger and then on to Beaune, Nuits St George and Vosne Romanee, all great French wine producing towns situated only an hours drive from St Jean.

We had the chance to inspect the Hotel Dieu in Beaune, a truly amazing and beautifully restored Hospice for the poor and now a tourist treasure, the wine museum and the ramparts of the old town. We passed through Nuits St George fairly quickly as the wine houses wanted huge amounts for a degustation and went on to climb the ancient hills of the Vosne Romanee area where we located the original and still the best plot of historic vines.

The nearby Clos de Vogeot is another large, beautifully restored chateau / castle, created by the Cistercian Monks who used it to produce wines for centuries until taken over by the Revolution it was sold and finally passed into the hands of the Chevaliers of the Tastevin, a 10,000 strong association dedicated to the promotion of Burgundy and it’s wines. The buildings feature huge wine presses and halls where large and important dinners are held to welcome new members of the wine fraternity.

On Tuesday the rain started the day so it has been declared a day for preparation of the material for Australia Day and other small tasks.

While Tuesday is cloudy with some rain, the ice has mostly melted here and in St Jean, St Symphorien has water back in the canal and all the water points at the Guardeau are working, so, people are starting to emerge like moles to look around and see what is on the go for fun and entertainment. Tonight is Harry Potter, the movie, in French, at the nearby Salle de Fetes in Losne.

Wednesday - We saw Harry Potter last night. While I did not understand the subtleties, the plot was easy enough to follow - even though it was in French. Since Maureen had read all the books and this was only to cover the first, she understood a great deal more than I and explained small points quietly. The movie was held in a local village hall where the travelling cinema man brings a projector and sound equipment and everyone comes at the same time - kids and adults. The little ones sat on the floor at the front while the adults huddled together further back to keep warm. It actually became quite hot towards the middle of the film with more bodies packed in to the room than they had ever had. Quite popular this Harry Pottair - as the French pronounce his name.

The next day I had some arranging to do for the up coming Australia Day Dinner which we had advertised around town after agreeing with the local restauranteur the menu and format for the evening. Giles, the owner of Chez Giles - known more formally as L’Amiral Brasserie, is a gravel voiced hunk of a man with a smattering of English and a cute small wife who seldom ventures from the kitchen, unlike their chubby son who wanders around the tables playing at the same time their dog, a black Heinz 57 varieties type of mutt begs food quietly.

The arrangements were for meat pie entrees followed by lamb chops and mashed potatoes with a Pavlova to finish. We would provide Australian red and white wines and Fosters beer, songs, recitations and Australian jokes from Philip Adam’s book. We also had an assortment of Australian flags to decorate the restaurant, a huge one of ours - about 3 x 1 ½ metres, another half that size from Matthew and Caroline and a boxing kangaroo flag from them as well. I went to the Australian Flag entries on the internet to get a small one that we duplicated and printed in colour then cut out and attached to barbecue sticks for each place at the tables.

Bookings reached 28 by the time the dinner was held on Saturday 26 January. With a squeeze we managed to fit everyone into the front room of the restaurant with just enough room for Giles and his off-sider to serve and clear. During the week I also went onto the internet for the words of Waltzing Matilda, the Road to Gundagai and Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport. Stupidly I forgot all about I Call Australia Home, although I suspect it might have been a bit difficult to perform, partly due to my very rusty guitar skills and partly as a result of my preponderance to emotion at times when such sentiments are expressed.

The balance of the week passed normally enough with the French lesson on Wednesday after which Roger and Lindy borrowed the car to move back to their boat after hibernating at Seurre in a couple of Gites - the name for small apartments rented out for holidays. We also had a very enjoyable lunch with John and Jan on the Thursday which left Maureen with a migraine for the next two days, only just clearing sufficiently for her to partly enjoy the hilarity of the Australia Day Dinner.

During this time we had been waiting for a transfer of funds direct to our French Bank and after two weeks it still had not appeared. By the next Tuesday I arranged a meeting with the visiting bank manager and gave the problem to him to sort out as by then the Australian bank (MacQuarie) had proven that they had transferred the money to Bank of America who had claimed to have sent it to the Bank of France and they to La Poste. Why the number of steps I have no idea. However it turned up late the next week after having been used by the banks fro some three weeks. We won’t do that again but it is annoying that something so simple can become so complicated.

We normally have money deposited direct to the ANZ where we can transfer it to our other accounts - such as onto the Visa Cards as a credit balance to draw locally from the cash distributors on the street sides. We can also pay accounts in Australia by this method but prefer to send cheques since they provide us with a direct audit trail. Why the French system has to include Bank of France and why MacQuarie has to go through Bank of America is beyond me, even transfers to our Dutch account go direct.

Friday arrived and at 7.00pm people started to arrive at Chez Giles. The evening shot past in a blur - more blurry later than earlier as everyone got right into the Fosters aperitif and then enjoyed the Kangaroo Ridge Chardonnay and Barossa Shiraz that we had been able to get from outlets locally and in Dijon. The songs went over well with most of the revellers using the song sheets we had printed to join in and sing along.

The meal was somewhat hysterical and left the non-Australians wondering at our culinary preferences. Giles had created several meat pies rather than a lot of individual ones but unlike Australian versions, these had real meat and flavour and the slices were huge. The chops that followed were a sort of large butterfly chop, very tender and again with a great deal of flavour but not barbecued and burnt as we had suggested. The mashed potato was real and served in huge bowls passed down the tables and the peas were the tinned variety. The piece de resistance was his Pavlova. These consisted of two small cake sized swirls of meringue, a slice of Neapolitan ice cream, a large dollop of whipped cream and a small pile of chopped Kiwi fruit and other fruits. These ingredients were tastefully arranged beside each other on individual plates. The end result in the tummy was the same but the normal vertical arrangement was missing.

Giles supplied the meal and any additional house wine at the cost of 89 Francs (about $A 25) along with coffee and a great deal of white rocket fuel which found it’s way into the room later in the evening - this is his own brand of Eau de Vie or Marc - a distilled spirit from grapes that the French call a digestif - something to clear the stomach after a large meal. It does more than that !Everyone had a great time and surprisingly, left the restaurant at a reasonable hour. We had Caroline with us so we were home before midnight - quite and achievement. Spoilt somewhat by me staying up to listen to music until 1 or 2 am.

Sunday was spent writing articles for Royal Freshwater Bay Yacht Club.

The beginning of week 12 in St Jean - almost three months. It doesn’t feel at all strange to be here, we have settled into the pace of the place, doing jobs on the boat as they clarify themselves and when they start to niggle at the conscience. These include small bits of finishing off - painting, sewing, screwing hooks into place, tidying up bits of unfinished timber and so forth and also the bigger jobs servicing engines, splicing new lines, re doing plumbing and wiring and of course, patching Little Nellie.

The beginning of this week was taken up sorting the bank transfer out finally and getting bits and pieces together to make up a flag pole for the stern of the boat, oils and filters for a service on the generator and the steel pieces for attaching out mooring lines to steel reinforced canal walls when we take ‘wild moorings’ in the country-side - more on that later.

Sister Sue had cheerfully agreed to arrange to order and send us a more usable sized Australian flag which we will fly from the stern when we can carry the long flag pole I am about to manufacture. Our current large flag is too big for anything but ceremonial occasions and is sure to be the target for petty thieves so it will be prepared for use but only brought out to steam triumphantly into important harbours or celebrations. It is also too light to spend it’s life in the elements. We have a pole step in the deck just forward of the rudder post which will allow for a 14 cm circumference (4 cm diameter) flag pole. The poles supplied in the local bricolage (hardware shops) are almost exactly that size and are about 2.4m long - just perfect for our needs. The purchase of a reasonably straight example of these was arranged along with suitable hooks, cleats and varnish from the boat shop at H2O. A day or so was spent varnishing the pole and fitting the hook and cleat and sewing a strong line into the hem of the flag. By Friday the work was completed and the new pole and flag were unveiled for the first time. It stayed in position until very strong winds descended on us on Sunday and the flag was then taken down and stored for suitable use. We await the arrival of the smaller version with great anticipation.

I began the service on the generator, which had not been run for the 12 weeks we have been attached to shore power, by assembling all the items I would need and use for the purpose. Special high grade oil, a vacuum pump, a new filter and a drum onto which I could put the vacuum pump in order to pump out the old oil once the engine had been run for some time to thin the old oil by heating it. Having given instructions to M to start the motor from the control panel in the office, I went to the engine room to monitor the running, especially the water pumping from outside the boat to cool the engine. The generator started, somewhat reluctantly after having been ignored for three months, and ran. I quickly established that water was not being pumped from the river through the heat exchange system and shut the engine down to investigate.

The inflow hose is fitted with a non return valve at the hull fitting to stop the cooling water receding after use but this had obviously not been able to retain the correct water level during the long break, so I now needed to prime the system in order to ensure that the rubber impellor (sort of a propellor) in the pump did not shred itself, not being lubricated and cooled by the water it was supposed to pump. This was not an easy task as the pump is at the top of the system and right at the back of the sealed generator / engine, accessible only via a top inspection hatch. After a while of pondering I worked out that after priming to the filter, if I took the pipe to the heat exchanger off and raised it I could fill it while attaching another hose to the exchanger I could blow water into it and probably almost all the way to the pump. Then, if everything was blocked and the action quick enough, I could re-attach the correct pipes and hoses and start the engine before the water agreed with gravity and flowed out. A couple of dress rehearsals and with the first mate’s assistance the deed was done and the engine quickly switched on. Water gushed out of the outflow pipe on the side of the hull ! Success.

The next problem was that the vacuum pump hose would not fit into the sump of the motor, rendering it useless for extracting the oil. Since I could not drain it as the sump is totally unreachable, I had to use the pump supplied on the engine. I had not planned to use it as a special fitting was not supplied to attach a hose to carry the hot oil away from the top of the motor and into a waiting receptacle so I had to undo the pump from its permanent home and bend its hoses such that the oil would flow safely out and into the waste receptacle. None of these things prove to be simple but overcoming the challenges gives one a reason to feel useful. Hopefully it does not pass on to the reader a sense that boats are a constant source of challenge and problems. Far from it, Van Nelle works very efficiently and reliably, but like any mechanical equipment, will continue to do so with good regular maintenance. Unfortunately, little thought was given to the need of the operator to regularly work on items such as the generator and so little room to move was provided in the key areas.

Wild Moorings. This is what describes the stopping place for an overnight stay, for lunch or just to inspect a canal-side attraction while travelling through the country side, generally in a canal rather than a river. Often, there are beautiful places along the canals and rivers where one would like to stop but these are passed regularly by other vessels which presents a problem. When a boat travels through a canal it creates a powerful bow wave that pushes ahead of it causing moored boats to be pushed onto the bank. While passing, the movement of the water being drawn through it’s propellor then creates a large suction, accentuated by the narrow canal, that will pull your boat off the bank and into the side of the passing vessel.

In order to attach the boat securely to the side of the canal, a number of methods are used, depending on the conditions of the bank. Some canal sides are reinforced by sheets of interlocking steel plates which generally have small holes cut in their tops. These holes give the opportunity for secure places to attach ropes if you have suitable tackle to attach to the holes. You cannot put ropes directly through the holes as they are frequently too small and having very sharp edges will quickly cut though valuable lines, therefore some form of attaching bracket is required. The best bracket is one that swivels flat to pass a section through the hole which opens out behind the plate to hold itself in place with a ring left out on the canal side to attach your rope to. We have not been able to find or have these made but have manufactured different sized T pieces that should slip through and lock in place. They are galvanised and have large rings attached for easy attachment to the ropes. Several of these for bow and stern would hold Van Nelle securely.

The other method is to hammer large steel stakes into the bank and attach lines to these. This works well if the banks are sufficiently dense to resist the stakes being pulled out with the suction of passing boats but loose enough to be able to sledge hammer the spikes in. If suitable trees or roots, rings or bollards are available, one would obviously use them but they are rare to find away from the proximity of the locks or recognised mooring places. One must never tie lines across the tow path that lies alongside the canals since the paths are used by walkers, bicyclists and VNF (canal management) vehicles.

Some time this week was used locating suitable raw materials, making up the attaching brackets and testing them on the steel plates near the town of St Jean.

We did not ignore our responsibilities during the week to food and wine tasting either. We enjoyed a beautiful piece of rib beef on Monday, a pasta dinner on VN with Caroline visiting while Matthew was away flying, Jan and John visited on Thursday and ended up dancing to loud rock and roll until after midnight (and then were suitably terrified by the drive home along the tow path). Jan and John invited us back to their canal cruiser ‘Blackbird Fly’ on Saturday night which was a lovely three course meal with a raft of white wines (unusual) which we followed up on Sunday by taking them on a drive to Beaune.

Beaune, centre of wine production for the Burgundy region, is a large town with a medieval centre, complete with a beautifully restored and maintained set of historic and overwhelming buildings. The key attraction is the Hotel Dieu, a huge complex of tall, burgundy roofed chateau like structures. Provided to the town after the Hundred Year War by a benevolent Duke, it has served the community until recent times as the central hospital and old peoples retirement home. The hospital has moved to a modern facility but the older generation remain in a separated section of the grounds, away from the tourist attraction front half. This is a magnificent structure now re furbished and re-furnished as it would have been hundreds of years ago, complete with models of the nurses, patients and doctors.

Nearby is the Musee du Vins - the wine museum of the region, explaining the soil, vines, cultivation and lifestyles attached to this mammoth wine producing area.

After visiting these attractions we retired to a nearby restaurant which offered teas and light snacks as well as full A la Carte meals. This was an occasion where my limited language and lack of concentration caught me out. I noticed others having apple pie and ice cream and so looked for tarte de pommes avec glace on the menu. The nearest thing to it was a fouillette de pommes avec blah blah blah and so I ordered it. The waiter cross questioned me about whether I wanted the glace with the pie. I replied in the affirmative and pointed to a nearby table where the occupants were enjoying the very same (la meme chose). He left and the teas and coffees arrived. No food. We were about to leave when all at once a woman appeared with a hot meal which was made up of a couple of different small pies - mushroom and onion, with salad and sliced apples as a garnishment. In a separate bowl a dollop of ice cream was put next to the plate on the table and with a haughty look she left. Well, I was obviously stumped so I gracefully shared the very pleasant snack and we left with some level of amused embarrassment

On our arrival back at the ancien ecluse sometime later, we found our scooter lying on it’s side in the road, obviously felled by the now very strong winds raking the area. Another job of minor repair for next week.

A windy and mostly wet week13 of our winter stay saw me finally bleed the central heating system, look after Caroline’s cat for a week and fix the broken plastic part of the scooter, further work was done on Little Nell, we rode to the nearby town of St Symphorien, assisted a friend to get a quote for a Bimini for his canal cruiser and discovered a slow leak on a rear tyre on the car.

The Kabola heater has a bleed screw which allows trapped air out of the system, therefore allowing the pressure to be regulated and eliminating unusual noises and unnecessary wear on pumps and other working parts. The screw had been so securely wound shut that all my previous efforts to loosen it were to no avail. I was following the instructions in the manual and turning it, against all odds, clockwise. Now that this was starting to bother me and since the folks at H2O were no help, I rang Kabola to check. They put me right as to the direction of the screw - it should have been anti-clockwise (not what is indicated in a clear diagram in the manual). Knowing that all my efforts had just tightened it further convinced me to try the last resort - using a screw driver against the edge and gently tapping it in the direction required. This worked and I was then able to use my patented new semi round screw piece (an Australian 20c piece held in a clamp) to do the rest. Hey presto, the Kabola job was completed.

The scooter needed a retaining piece re-attaching to the face plate and some super glue was perfect for the job, but first I had to get the face plate off. I quickly realised that required an Allen key, which I have lots of, but once all the seemingly correct sized ones failed to fit in the screw heads I further realised that it was a non standard size. Going to the next size up I took a file to the pentagon head of the key to modify it and after a few attempts had the screws out. Then one fell into the well of the machine requiring all the external panels to be removed in order to reclaim the errant part. This completed I was able to glue the part back in place and leave it to set overnight. A week later it appears to be nicely fixed.

John Johnson wants a Bimini on the top of his canal cruiser and left the UK in too much of a hurry to have it done there. There being a contractor here in St Jean however, he decided to arrange a conference on the boat to discuss it with the local bloke and get a price. He asked me along to cover any gaps in his French vocab. Saturday morning and we all gathered on the top deck of the aforementioned boat and began the rather stilted discussion, aided by paper and pen to sketch where fluency was insufficient. We managed to get the design explained and asked for an estimate. The result was somewhat shocking - 5,000 francs (some French people still have not converted quickly to Euros) which is about $A 1500 for the material part of the front section and another 2,500 francs for the extension - excluding the stainless steel frame on which the material would be hung - and - before the scalloped trim was added. All in all John will not see any change from perhaps 15 - 20,000 francs, $A 4500 - 5500. At that price John started to seriously consider buying a big market umbrella or two.

Rain hampered work but did not exclude it entirely and by the end of the week, little Nellie was re-patched with two gel coats over the finished areas and just one new area (I completely missed one hole altogether) to gel coat when the rain stops. A coat of paint away from being a new dinghy.

Saturday night was the night of the big choral concert in the church of St Jean. The choir of the military academy at St Cyr - the equivalent of Australia’s Duntroon, were joined by two local choirs and a small orchestra. Predictably, the local choirs had to ‘strut their stuff’ first, went on too long and tried just a few too many difficult pieces which had their sopranos hunting for the high notes with mixed success. The choir of St Cyr was marvellous. One diminutive blond girl surrounded by about 25 very healthy and handsome young male officer cadets in marvellous 18th century uniforms, feather topped kepis finishing off the dark blue decorated with gold braid jackets and trousers. The one girl had exactly that same with the exception that the trousers were a sort of culottes come skirt. They looked and sounded marvellous and received the sort of enthusiastic and patriotic applause at the end that they deserved. Heartwarming. All the choirs joined together at the end to be accompanied by the slightly off key and out of time ‘orchestra’ in a credible rendition of Mozart’s Te Deum. A pleasant end to a workaday week.

Roger and Lindy had set off a week ago to explore some of the other areas fluviale - areas in France with waterways, and had returned on Saturday. We were eager to know what they had found in their travels south so went to afternoon tea on Sunday. They recounted their train trips to Roanne in the centre of France and at the end of a canal. This town is larger than St Jean and has a large and comfortable harbour, priced reasonably. Spread around a large open port de Plaisance, each mooring has water and power, the electricity direct to RDF the French Electricity Department - therefore probably cheaper than we pay here through H2O. On one side are large boats like ours and the other is inhabited by yachts and small canal craft.

They next headed south towards Marseilles but turned right to explore Carcassonne and other ports along the Canal de Midi. The area is undergoing change with the towns eager to move on old boats that have been there for years and get some new blood in along with the attendant fees. The scheme apparently is to write to them, supplying details of your boat and then wait for ever for some kind of response. The other theory is just to turn up when you want to settle down for the winter period. We will continue to make inquiries.

On Monday I had a number of jobs to do including the last gel coat on Little Nellie, a trip to the Stand de Pneus to get a tyre repaired since it has been leaking slowly for the last 5 days or so, and to take delivery (or not) of the fuel that had been ordered.

I woke in a bit of a sweat on Sunday night realising that it was quite possible for Caroline to have overlooked the fact that we should only have white fuel on board as we have only one usable tank currently and you have to be able to prove that red fuel has not been used for anything else but heating and power generation. The tax is taken off diesel fuel that is coloured red since it is an essential service. I had not specified any type to Caroline and it was only when I thought about it from their point of view that I realised that they probably only needed red. Nothing could be done until Monday morning anyway so at 9.00am I was up and ready when the truck arrived. I explained to the driver that I could only take part of the 700 litres I had ordered for me because that was all I would use from now until the end of our winter period. He explained (I think) that there was no need to worry between October and March as during that period the official feeling was that red fuel was only taken for the right purpose but that after March it would be a problem.

If only I had known this when we first moved into the ancien ecluse since on that day we had bunkered 750 litres of white at 0.8 euros per litre rather than at the 0.375 euros per litre for red. I could have legitimately saved myself some $ A 1,000 in fuel bills but I can’t take it retrospectively. Bugger ! Well at least I have save some $A 200 by taking the 300 litres of red today. Hopefully there will be no problem but in any case, I will need to take on 500 litres of white soon for the next seasons requirements which will bleach out the colour in the remaining store.

Having sorted the fuel issue I set off for the tyre place in Blazey, only to find on arrival that it was closed Monday mornings. A quick trip on to SaoneAuto, a friendly garage where they had assisted me with a need for a new part some months ago, to have the underside of the car and the brakes checked. The owner is really nice and for nothing, checked the brakes, the suspension, the gears and clutch and took the car for a test drive. Some of these people are princes. I booked the car in for a service with all the trimmings for a month hence and headed back to town.

A friend I ran into at the bricolage while picking up a few paint brushes suggested I take the tyre to the local garage which I did and it was repaired immediately for 9 euros. Quick, cheap and hopefully efficient. Having a tyre repaired is quite remarkable. The mechanic hunted for the leak with a corkscrew gadget which he used to fish out a nasty piece of screw. He then used it to ream out the hole and being satisfied that he had done a job as good as some of my old dentists, took an oversized bag needle gadget into which he threaded a gooey, pink string thingy which he then plunged into the tyre. Pushing it all the way to its ends he then wound the goo until it was at breaking point and quickly withdrew the needle, breaking its hold on the gooey string. That was it ! I put the wheel back on the car and drove off - after paying of course. I hope the plug stays in on some of our longer and faster trips !

On return to Van Nelle I checked the last gel coat which had almost completely set, thankfully since rain threatens. The surface of the dinghy is now smooth and seemingly waterproof. It has a somewhat checkerboard appearance but that will be well covered by a judicious coat of paint at a later time. Tomorrow, if the weather is dry, I will launch Nellie and leave her floating to check the water proof-ness.

Tonight we have John Johnson’s birthday dinner with a return to L’Amiral - Giles is doing well out of us, but tonight he will get one of his vouchers back and no orders for his exotic and very expensive bottled wines ! Oh yes, I also had to pay the latest invoice from H2O - always a painful parting of money but I feel better afterwards knowing that all the accounts are up to date.