SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1
BARGING THROUGH EUROPE
5 years exploring Europe by barge
Jay and Maureen McDaniell
Copyright AJL McDaniell - all rights reserved.
No copies may be made of this book except in part for education or academic reason.
This book may not be sold or rented for gain.
INTRODUCTION
In 1999, Jay and Maureen McDaniell, an Australian professional couple in their 50s, decided to close down their Public Relations business in Perth, Western Australia, sell their house and travel to Europe to live and explore France, Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany on a barge. In June 2001 Jay set off to buy one.
A ‘barge’ in Europe is somewhat different from the unpowered floating metal boxes that carry large loads of sludge and other materials on waterways in other parts of the world. Natural waterways were used in Europe from early times to transport delicate, large or heavy loads, since most important towns grew up on rivers, their source of water, and their interconnecting roads were little better than muddy quagmires in winter and dusty, bone shaking, load breaking tracks in summer. The original open boats eventually developed into owner’s homes and shelter for the valuable animals that pulled them. From the early 1600s, canals were developed and built to link cities and rivers together in order to supply food and to speed manufactured products to markets safely.
With the availability of cheap diesel engines following World War One, these boats, now made of iron rather than wood, were powered and re-designed to provide proper accommodation for their crews, often families. Known as Luxemotors (for the comparative luxury accommodation and motor power provided), many survived the ravages of Nazi use during the Second World War and the downsizing of waterways trade in the 1950s through to the 1990s. The latter decline was caused by cheaper and faster trucking and rail transport that could pick up and deliver direct, door to door or centre to centre, where canals and rivers did not exist. While some older barges continue to be used for commerce, newer, much larger models were built to continue commercial transport into the 21st Century while many of the remaining, older and smaller models were converted as live-aboard ‘homes’ for explorers and locals alike.
Our barge, Van Nelle, the star of this story, was a nearly 90 year old veteran of the Dutch trade, built by the Van Nelle tobacco, coffee and tea company of Rotterdam. Sold out of their service in the 50s, she carried drinking water and mail and eventually was sold into private use in 1991. 80% converted to live-aboard use during 1999 to 2001, we bought her where she lay in Loosdrecht, the Netherlands, in June 2001 from the young Dutch carpenter who had partially converted her.
What got us interested in this unusual way of life ? We had taken a holiday with two other couples on a rental boat in France in 1999 and loved the experience. Returning to work, it took me only months to work out the financial and practical plan that would take Maureen and I back semi-permanently. Our decision was based on the premise that you only live once and you have to ‘do it’ while you are physically able, so why work 7 days a week just to pay staff. Our 30 something year old children were capable of looking after themselves, they had provided no grandchildren so far and while my parents were long gone, Maureen’s were independent and very healthy. There were no insurmountable barriers.
We sold our house, in part to pay for the boat, leased out our office building and arranged for the rental income from that and other investments to pay our way. Then we crossed our fingers and jumped.................
This book is dedicated to my long suffering and loving crew, the chef, the deckhand, wife and mother of our children - without whose agreement, forbearance and patience this voyage could never have happened - despite the fact we disagree with some of its detail !
NOTE: Click on Chapter numbers to go direct to them and then on the next Chapter heading to get back to the top.
Introduction.............. Page 2
Chapter One - 2001 - To the Netherlands............................................................................... Page 4
Chapter Two - We own Van Nelle......................................................................................... Page 25
Chapter Three - The Voyage South..................................................................................... Page 47
Chapter Four - Burgundy...................................................................................................... Page 69
Chapter Five - 2002 - Cruising the Centre and Going South........................................... Page 101
Chapter Six - Burgundy to Paris......................................................................................... Page 130
Chapter Seven - Down the Rhone to the Canals Entre Deux Mers................................. Page 148
Chapter Eight - Winter in Montech..................................................................................... Page 170
Chapter Nine - 2003 - Cruising the Midi and Lateral a la Garonne................................. Page 180
Chapter Ten - Winter and Italy........................................................................................... Page 203
Chapter Eleven - 2004 - Back to Burgundy and All Points North.................................... Page 209
Chapter Twelve - End of 2004 - A Trip to Australia......................................................... Page 239
Chapter Thirteen - 2005 - The Netherlands........................................................................ Page 242
Chapter Fourteen - Heading South..................................................................................... Page 252
Chapter Fifteen - Back to Burgundy................................................................................... Page 264
Chapter Sixteen - Swansong................................................................................................. Page 272
Chapter One - To The Netherlands
Monday 11 June, 2001.
The day after my 52nd birthday was a panic. I had to be at the airport at 1.30pm but before that, pick up and install a computer in our office for our lessee, install a run-off gutter on the top step of the office basement to stop the rain flooding our stored records, furniture and effects, get travellers cheques, pick up and deal with the mail, deliver office keys to the office leasing agent - and the house keys to Nina, the agent who had sold our house, then pack for the trip, shower, change and get a taxi to the airport - and hopefully say goodbye to my wife Maureen on the way ! (She was to join me in Holland but not for a couple of months).
Shortly after 1.30pm I was there. I had my front row seat allocation on the plane (unfortunately in economy class), the blood pressure was diminishing somewhat - but the hangover from my previous day’s birthday party and send off at the yacht club was not. I bought some writing paper to reply to a couple of incidental letters (one to my favourite aunt) and settled in to the café to wait for Maureen. She arrived at the airport to farewell me after her morning motor bike lesson and left shortly after for a 3.00pm meeting in Fremantle, Western Australia’s sea port. Long farewells at airports are unhappy things best left for demonstrative Europeans, so ours were short and sweet.
We had both decided to get motor bike licenses as we figured one or two of them would likely fit on a barge, whereas a car was impractical. I had ridden bikes for years but not legally and Maureen had never tried. I had taken my test a week before the trip and failed - miserably - while Maureen passed at her first attempt. Since the waiting time for tests was in the order of two weeks it looked likely I was to ride illegally in Europe as well. Fortunately the examiners found a cancellation in a different testing office and the day before departure I was ‘helped’ to pass. This should have been taken as a portent for many of the challenges ahead.
I had a great flight as usual on Singapore Airlines. The choice of good, recent movies, quiet, efficient and generous service, quite good food (but how come it always spills on your shirt), and I was off at Singapore about six hours later. The cyber cafés at Changi Airport are free and efficient and my email was received, read and replied to in less than fifteen minutes. The one and a half hour connection also allowed time for me to buy some necessities at the airport supermarket since I had left all my toilet articles in the bathroom at my father and mother-in-law’s house. They had kindly taken us in from the time our house handover had been completed a week before and despite their very real reservations to this mad adventure, had managed to avoid bringing up the subject of ‘responsibility’ in the “how could you be so irresponsible” context.
To be safe I used the efficient connection desk at Changi airport to ensure my front row seat allocation had not been gazumped before boarding. All was well and on finding my seat I found a young Dutch couple in the row with me which was very useful for finding out some pertinent information about the country I was about the enter. This was a pretty full flight of some 11-12 hours to Schipol in the Netherlands, but a quick snack, a good movie and 3 sleeping pills sent me off for 4 hours. Another few of these very non toxic, no hangover sleeping pills gave me another 4 hours sleep until about 50 minutes before landing. I was feeling much recovered from the hangover now, ready to take delivery of the hire car I had booked on the internet and brave the early morning Dutch freeway traffic.
I should note here that almost everything I did in preparation for this trip was done on the internet. Looking for barges for sale, finding a broker I was comfortable with, learning about the business of buying and running a nearly 27 metre boat on narrow canals, booking hotels, hire cars, banking, mail, paying accounts, planning routes, booking rail and air tickets, booking moorings, finding boat parts and places for service and maintenance, planning sight seeing - all had been done and continued to be done on the world wide web. Fortunately my 24 years with IBM and Lexmark prepared me for the technology challenges incurred.
Tuesday 12
I had been to Holland before. ‘Holland’ is just part of the tiny country more correctly called ‘The Netherlands’ which is only some 200 by 300 kilometres in size ! I came a year before to see barges and to take my ‘Certificate de Capacite’ in northern France so I had a slight idea of what I was in for. On the previous occasion however I was met by Tony Charman the barge broker and driven everywhere. This time I had to do it myself.
I arrived at the amazing Schipol airport (which is more of a city in itself) at 6.30am and got through customs pretty quickly. Outside I took off to the wrong end of the terminal to find the rental car guide who, when I retraced my steps, was waiting patiently just near the customs exit. Once found there were some quick formalities and I was on the way to Utrecht and on the first ride into the great unknown, on the ‘wrong’ side of the road and without much of a map.
Maps don’t help much if you are driving without a navigator and therefore can’t read them while driving. Fortunately in Europe, road signs are plentiful and if you see them in time and believe that you should stick to the road you are on until you see a new one re-directing you, you will find your way - which is why I am writing this in my hotel and not from Siberia. I have been ‘lost’, or should I say, temporarily misplaced, most of the time I have been driving the car here and also on foot.
However - my first task was to find the accommodation in Utrecht I thought I had arranged. I should have known from the cryptic email replies I had received that it was going to be a dud and it sure was. A couple of laid back middle eastern people in the house, the front room of which had been hastily converted to a breakfast room / office / reception room / cyber café / whatever. It was very grubby and not at all me. I read the riot act to all and sundry, including one very startled back packer trying to eat a not very appetizing breakfast and I was hastily redirected to ‘the house with a green door’ on the other side of Utrecht.
This address proved to be up a one way street, the entrance of which was blocked completely by road works. After an age of creeping forward - there was no going back - I eventually found the ‘green door’ and got inside to be met by the chaos of a building site. The man in charge directed me to a stair case that was nearly vertical (I kid you not) to the fourth floor that revealed an unfinished room. I would probably not have been able to get the suitcase up the stairs and certainly would never have been able to get it down so I left, now in a bit of a panic about accommodation. It was lucky I didn’t have an inspection to do that day since I was now into the afternoon. I came, I saw and I capitulated - cancelled my booking and set out to search for a better deal. This was probably the only dud experience I had using the internet.
I retreated to the Centrum of Utrecht (all town centres are called Centrum) found a parking station and headed for the Tourism Office. Normally I would have checked the accommodation with them but in this case I had not been able to get a reply to my email inquiries. In person they could not have been more helpful. I explained where I wanted to be and the price I wanted to pay and within 4 calls they had a hotel in a more convenient town and a chalet at a camping ground as a backup choice, both close to Loosdrecht, the town near several of our preferred barge targets.
While I was in Utrecht I also set off to start a bank account. The first bank was unmanned except on Fridays (look out Australia if that’s the trend); the second provided a set of forms to fill in and then gave me the directions to a competitive bank which was manned (and lady'ed). They couldn’t have been more friendly and after a few little computer glitches (which included issuing me the account number of a huge European conglomerate which happened to have set up an account at exactly the same time), I had an account at the ABN AMRO bank of Utrecht, the Netherlands - my first overseas account !
Flushed with success, I decided it was also time to organise a phone card for my mobile phone to reduce the local call costs. This was also dealt with quickly and efficiently as most Dutch speak exceptionally good English. Unfortunately the first time I wanted to use the phone, having left the assistance of the phone company employees, I was assailed by Dutch instructions from a robot on the other end which proved a major challenge. But now it was time to set off for the adjoining town of Houten and my hotel.
Road works are a regular thing in Holland it seems. One way streets abound, some with only one exit, many completely blocked by road works. The same is in evidence in the town of Houten where I eventually found the really pretty little hotel they had arranged. It is on a town square surrounded by old churches, cute shops and plane trees. However to get there, the entrance from the ring road was completely blocked and necessitated an 11 km drive to approach from the opposite side of the town to the only other entrance. This could be hilarious at peak hour if one was still in reasonable humour after a day of being trapped or going the wrong way on massive freeways.
The hotel was really a beaut little pub, cheap, at about 35 Euros per day, but the sting was in the cost of meals - 30 Euros and beer at 3 each. This seems a bit strange since the food and wines are not expensive when bought at supermarkets and wine shops - one of which is just next door ! Dinner was pleasant but lonely and the bed was soft and warm.
Wednesday 13
Today was the first boat inspection day so I was up early and off to Aalst to look at ‘Vrijheid’.
At this time of course we did not own a boat. We had seen several we were very happy with on our separate inspection trips, mine taken in October the year before this, and I knew from the broker there were several more that fitted our requirements. I had seen Van Nelle the year before, a 27 metre ‘Katwijker’ type that had been about 80% converted. Frank, the owner, had promised it would be finished by April 2001 and I had been dismayed to see the price on the internet rising. An indication of the increased value as it approached completion I thought.
With the confidence of my convictions I had convinced Maureen to pack and send our furniture and belongings by sea in a container in June and they were to arrive in late July, so I actually had to find a barge that would fit the refrigerators, tables and chairs, sideboards and stereos, washing machine and dryer and all the other goods and chattels we had sent to live with. I had better get on with it.
I started early as I was waking up between 4.30 and 5.30am, brain already racing. Breakfast was preset the night before so it was easy to get off to a good start. As a side issue, breakfast is made up of slices of bread, cheese and ham, butter, coffee, chocolate, jams and condiments. No wheaties, no vegemite.
I ate some and made a sandwich of the rest and decided I would do some recce’s of the camping ground and the location of the main target boat ‘Van Nelle’ before my first inspection at 11.00am. I found both - not without driving dramas - and arrived at Vrijheid, my first appointment in time to video outside of the ship to the accompaniment of the large guard dog on the passarelle (gangway).
Maureen had seen Vrijheid on her trip a little over a year before and had video taped it so I was already familiar with a lot of its features. This ship had a lot of benefits but also some show stoppers, such as its size. It was just too big for the job we had in mind, with a 5 metre beam and 3.2m air height that was not reduce able by lowering the roof, as it was a one piece steel construction. However, I had a good 2-3 hour inspection from the bilge to the decks and from the bow to the stern in order to get some experience before Friday - Van Nelle day. It also gave me a recent boat I could compare, in negotiations on price and conditions with Van Nelle’s owners. In the end that worked well for me.
This day I also came to grips with solving some phone problems. The phone was key to my communication strategy for both the internet (connected to my lap top computer) and voice to the broker and home. It seemed to just cut out from time to time, and had a constant and infuriating email problem, not being able to send messages out, which turned out to be a missing phrase in the code line for the outward mail server. Finding a phone company shop was key in solving the problem.
On the way back to Houten I came across a very flash boat sales yard and marina and went in to inquire if they had any leads - they came up with Mijnheer Maurits Horst (who you will meet later) and so I arranged to meet him later in the week in Amsterdam.
Wednesday was Rotary night in Houten so I went to make some acquaintances. A pleasant meal with some of the meeting conducted in English (for me), but the guest speaker presenting in Dutch. He spoke for 40 minutes about concrete. I didn’t think there was that much to say about the subject and by the looks on the faces of the rest of the audience, they agreed ! The highlight of the occasion however, was that they introduced themselves and their professions and I introduced myself to a lawyer who may have been useful in legal work for the boat. He had the unlikely but propitious name of Helm Osse. It sounds to me like he is meant ‘to steer, this Aussie’, a good omen I think.
Thursday 14
I went for a run this morning (this being before my knees and ankles protested too much and sent me biking instead) and found the railway station was only a ten minute walk (or a five minute run) from the hotel. Trains ran to Utrecht every 16 minutes, so I decided I would take the train to meet Maurits in Amsterdam. Now, I had seen something on TV about a train derailment, but since it was in Dutch I had not put 2 and 3 together, so when I arrived at the station I was informed that the rail to Amsterdam from Utrecht was out and the train / bus / train combination would take about 2 hours. I decided to drive instead - to Amsterdam - I must have been crazy !
Getting to Amsterdam is not too much of a problem as the freeways are great and mostly lead to the city - if you get on in the right direction. It is when you get into Amsterdam - city of canals - and need to find your way through the ring roads blocked by canals, road works, bikes, tourists and one way streets, that you have the problem. Amazingly I found the meeting place quite easily as it was just off the freeway, and was soon lambasted by Maurits’ favourite philosophies of barging, none of which I agreed with, as his ideas started at $US 500,000. This lasted about and hour before I could get him to take me to see some ships he had in preparation at ‘his’ shipyard. Strangely he had trouble finding the place where ‘his boats’ were. That should have said something but I was distracted by seeing the sand blasting and coating that was under way on a couple of hulls before we made up with a herring sandwich and the inspection of a new boat.
Farewelling the garrulous and far too expensive Mynheer Horst I began my return to Utrecht.
I took every wrong turn possible in Amsterdam, becoming more and more ‘misplaced’ and turning a 5 minute connection to the A2 freeway a 40 minute un-conducted tour of the back streets, unfortunately not the interesting ones ! I finally made it to the freeway and into Utrecht where I circled the block three times trying to find the entrance to the main city car park. In circling the block I found I was actually using a ‘bus only’ street into the central bus depot at the central station. Thankfully I was not pounced on by the local police but I was looked at strangely by locals waiting for their busses as I passed them several times.
Once I had parked and left the parking station I found myself in a really confusing shopping mall that linked buildings with the central station, the town centre and the huge music theatre and concert hall. I was so concerned I would lose the car by not being able to find my way back to the subterranean cavern that I retraced my steps immediately to assure myself I knew where to find it. Even then it was touch and go.
Then it got worse, I really couldn’t remember where the bank was that I had set up my account just two days earlier, and forgetting I had the address on the manager’s card in my wallet, I had to go to the ever helpful tourist office to get directions. I also went to the phone shop to get the message numbers changed so that my instructions were now in English and also to check out why one of the top up cards was faulty, since it was not accepted by the robot voice. It actually was not faulty, the boy in the shop (they look young enough to be boys), had already installed it for me. How he did that without taking it out of its wrapper and scratching off the code number protective layer I have no idea. I guess that’s why you get the kid from next door to programme your video !
By this time I was again fuelled by stress and unfuelled by food. The herring sandwich, which was very small, had been hours earlier and breakfast had been a long time before that. Solution, 100gm of chocolate. They have great confectionery everywhere to tempt you. After this quick refuelling I was off to find the car, fingers crossed. I found it - surprisingly just where I had left it ! Following that triumph (small wins were now assuming grand proportions) I also found the way back to Houten and my hotel.
Just to add a bit of spice to my life, while having dinner and watching the Boule Championship that was staged in the square in front of the Hotel Roskam, the owner wandered over to ask at what time I would be leaving the next day. I was stunned since I believed I had a couple of weeks reserved. We discussed the issue which she explained was brought about by the hotel being fully booked and agreed that she would ‘see what she could do’ and inform me the next day - Van Nelle inspection day. Surely I didn’t need that to add to the mounting apprehension of the inspection and negotiation for our new home. I really needed to buy a boat - and not only a boat - but the right boat.
By this time I had convinced myself that Van Nelle was going to be the best bet. When I had seen her in 2000 she had everything we needed and more but she was just not finished. She had three ample sized bedrooms, a large and comfortable saloon with dining and galley en-suite, leading to a spacious office area just outside the large bathroom which was complete with full size bath. Up stairs she had a huge wheelhouse suitable for meals on the move and in inclement weather, and a huge open and unobstructed back deck. Forward of the wheelhouse she had a wide, flat cabin top and plenty of walk around deck with an unobstructed foredeck for mooring, anchoring and just observing. She was in my mind - perfect.
The broker, Tony Charman, had been very reserved about her when we inspected her a year before as she then needed a lot of work to finish her. The engine room was a mess, plumbing was rudimentary, wiring had not been connected to lights and pumps, the finishing touches of door and window surrounds were unfinished or missing, she was rusty, unpainted and covered with scrap iron, wood and junk. I believed I could see through the mess to the finished boat and with the rising price I had seen on the web, I had the expectation she would now sparkle.
Now just to put buying a barge into perspective.... When negotiating you must have a number of equally acceptable alternative solutions in order to strengthen your hand. I had eliminated the only other major immediate contender the day before and now had a win or lose situation facing me. It was critical that I not only secure Van Nelle, if she was suitable, but also do it at the right price or we could not afford to run her. If we missed securing Van Nelle and could not identify and close an alternative in the next week or so, we had a limited future in the canal boat business ! Pressure was building.
Friday 15 - the BIG day, Van Nelle inspection day.
How to keep the stress, excitement and nervousness down to acceptable limits was the major challenge. First, a run in the morning to get the brain and body under control, then breakfast. Next challenge, to keep the breakfast down.
Since the inspection was scheduled for 12.00 noon I had some hours to kill so I decided to check out the alternative accommodation which I had confirmed was available from the 16th of the month. This was a self contained cabin in a camp site less than 7km from Van Nelle. I found my way directly to their office, now with the assistance of my GPS which I had logged onto the area on the previous visit. My inquiry was met with the response that they were so sorry but they had let the cabin yesterday - I had not called - what could they do. So now I had nowhere to live and possibly no boat. Things were starting to look grim but in my short conversations ‘home’ I sounded upbeat and confident - thankfully we didn’t have video phones !
I drove to the yacht harbour where I thought Van Nelle was located and made a quick change of clothes into inspection gear. Wandering about I could not find her. Frank deJong, the owner, arrived shortly after and was full of friendly enthusiasm as he guided me to his ski boat for the ride to an anchorage out on the huge 5 lake system that is the Loosdrechtse (pronounced loose-drect-sea). We had a pleasant slow trip out through the labyrinth of channels along the shore line until finally we came out onto the lakes and then, at great speed, on towards two barges, Van Nelle and Franks new Tjalk, a hull very much under conversion.
I asked for a couple of slow circuits of the hulls to inspect the paint and hull state of Van Nelle and the bow, anchor, chain and stern, before pulling alongside and climbing up on deck. I was devastated as I was met by the sight of the boat in basically the same state as I had seen it 8 months before but now looking shabbier for the passing of time and lack of work on her. I felt a more than a slight sinking feeling.
I started the inspection with a run through a check list of ‘must haves’ with Frank and then sent him off to find the ship’s papers while I checked some critical measurements. Wheelhouse up - 3.2 metres, down 2.8. Not perfect but workable. Depth 1.25m - a bit deep for a few places but OK for the majority. I checked the bow height - 2.8m, the same as to the top of the wheel. (Note: With the wheelhouse folded down the steering wheel is now the highest point and another 10cm or so could be reduced by removing the wheel and using the tiller steering). The dimensions just fitted our requirements and as the standard French locks are 38 by 5.05 metres and the depth of their waterways 1.8 metres, she would take us where we wanted to go. Being able to reduce the height by taking down the wheelhouse roof and folding down the wheelhouse windows would enable us to traverse the Canal du Midi in the south of France where a max height of 3.0m was required.
A walk around the deck showed what it could look like when finished as Frank had done a bit of quick work the day before, painting the inside of the bow area which looked quite smart. The rest of the deck and superstructure and fittings would all have to be done. The glass skylights, hatches, outer top sides and deck equipment was covered with primer but needed scraping back and repainting and the wheelhouse was desperately in need of varnish.
Inside the wheelhouse revealed some cracked glass panes, curtain material just wrapped over foam as cushions, grubby carpets and incomplete wiring. No major problems here but again a fair bit of work needed. I began to agree with Tony Charman’s professional advice when he said she would cost a lot of money and time to bring up to standard. This was not what we had planned for our first summer.
Down stairs we went to the saloon which had inbuilt furniture that had not been finished off and walls that did not quite meet the floor. The bathroom needed a shower and curtain but the bath, sink and toilet were OK.
Though the saloon to the bedrooms. The first needed a bed as it was used as a nursery, the second had a double and was OK but the third had an inbuilt single bed which would need to be taken out and replaced by a double. All the rooms needed finishing. The walls needed to be taken to the top of the ceiling in the front cabin, the water tank under the main cabin bed needed to be resealed and lights and fans installed in each bedroom. Windows and doors needed finishing and painting and the walls painted.
The electrics appeared basically modern and functional, but needed to be finished off professionally and the dirty water system had yet to be installed in the engine room. The generator and main engine appeared basically sound but the Baudouin main propulsion engine had an old generator unsecured and hanging off it that need to be secured or replaced, the engine wiring and gauges need to be connected and a start stop switch installed. Frank started the main engine by jamming a couple of wires together !
The boat had great basics and potential but needed effort, expertise, time and lots of cash to make it great or even good. Despite all the disappointment of the state it was supposed to be in and was not, I could see the potential for this down at heel thoroughbred to be a proud leader on the waterways and a great platform for the lifestyle we planned to have.
Frank and I got to talking and I wondered whether he was ready for an offer. I had been preparing him by pointing out the problems as we discovered them and he had contributed by adding things he felt needed to be done in order to hand over a ‘completed’ ship. I asked him what he wanted for the boat. He hedged, saying that he was always aware that the price would have to come down to allow for the work but that he had a bottom line in mind. I then bit the bullet and put a very low but realistic offer to him. I held my breath as it was well below the amount now advertised on the website and even below the original ‘take-it-as-it-is’ price.
After a bit of a hiatus in discussions I started on about the other great boats I was about to buy and started showing off some photos of Vrijheid (translation - Freedom). I added that I really liked Van Nelle’s potential but that I would only be interested if I could get her at a reasonable price and with his assistance to finish the major items. He hesitated, obviously thinking deeply, and then - joy of joys - agreed !
I could have hugged him. No quibbling, haggling or hanging out for more. Just the offer and acceptance. I was thrilled. The price was well below what I had thought he would want and gave us room to move with refit and finishing costs. We had a drink to the deal and to the fact that it was Frank’s birthday. We then went cruising. I was delighted and now wanted to take over. That was not quite in Frank’s mind initially as he manoeuvred the boat expertly away from his new project and onto open water. We took the boat all over the extensive lakes, putting her though her paces and through extensive manoeuvring, stopping, starting, turning and reversing. She performed very well, albeit heavy on the steering since she does not have a balanced rudder or power steering. I felt that could be worth considering as part of the many items starting to mount in my mind and on my notebook pages.
After a couple of hours (time flies when your messing about in boats), we had to call it quits and head back. I took her all the way including a sharp turn behind his Tjalk and up alongside it - coming alongside smoothly. I could see Frank was nervous and he made a comment that the boat was still not mine yet and that he would have taken a different route but he quickly admitted that the manoeuvre was well done and that he was pleased a good skipper was taking her over. We then checked the engine, which had not even raised a sweat, and went aboard the Tjalk to meet his father, a jolly chubby chap who was busy doing the carpentry.
We called the Dutch broker to complete the deal and it was now time to put me ashore. We arranged a meeting for Sunday, reiterated and wrote down the basic agreement and headed back to the yacht basin. I drove back to Houten to ring Maureen with the news, check if I still had accommodation and to celebrate. The next morning I had a slight buzz in the head from the very pleasant meal and wine - albeit enjoyed in lonely mode, thousands of miles from Maureen and friends.
Our main consideration in choosing a barge to live on was space. Since we were to on board live for some years, we wanted to have sufficient space to enjoy life, not merely to exist. This meant reasonable sized bedrooms (for us and guests, as we planned to have plenty of them), living areas - lounge, dining, deck and working areas and preferably a good area to watch the world go by when underway. It was important that we have enough space for each of us so we were not tripping over each other and to have room to do things separately when appropriate.
Van Nell provided everything we wanted in regard to space. Three double sized cabins, a huge open plan saloon with dining area and galley, leading on to an office space and quite large bathroom with a full size bath and shower (to be installed). Upstairs was a large wheelhouse with room for 6 to eat at the soon to be installed revolving table that fitted perfectly into the three sided settee that looked forward, leaving plenty of space for the helms-person when we were underway.
Outside was a huge deck, fore and aft, especially behind the wheelhouse. We had packed a large jarrah table and a gas barbecue and needed space for them and some easy chairs, the bikes and other paraphernalia. In front of the wheelhouse was a large flat deck over the living areas into which were let huge skylights that illuminated the saloon. All around the cabin top was a wide walkway making it easy to access all areas of the boat when needed, for access to the wheelhouse, mooring, locking and cleaning.
Importantly, our furniture, including two refrigerators, a washing machine and dryer, computer system, sofas, chairs, tables and sideboards, would all fit comfortably, in fact with room left over for some comfortable chairs to be sourced from Ikea.
There were however more serious considerations which actually should have taken priority but which fortunately came together to complete the perfect package. These included the integrity of the hull, the condition and reliability of the engine, gearbox, prop shaft and propeller, the generator, battery system, electrics, plumbing and steering systems. As the process of inspections, trials and survey would indicate however, these basics were adequate or better, with only some modifications, maintenance and upgrading to make them excellent.
Winter was a big consideration as well, so heating and insulation were important and well taken care of by an oversize Kabola diesel water heater and central heating system plus full insulation between floor and hull, walls and hull and ceiling and roof. Heating was reinforced by a lovely pot belly stove set into the saloon.
The galley was small but adequate, but was without an oven, a requirement of the chef which was soon sourced and installed. A mid size refrigerator was also sourced locally to run off 220v rather than 24 as it was more efficient and a good deal less expensive and would run well from the 220v inverter system supplied by the batteries.
We were not initially concerned by the history of the boat but this aspect soon became a key aspect of our ship as we learned more about it. It was some years before we had the full story, which became clear as we travelled back to Holland from France in 2005, visiting the boatyard where she was built 90 years before.
The Van Nelle coffee, tea and tobacco company was a large and prosperous importer and manufacturer whose owner was influenced by an Indian guru to provide the best working conditions for his employees. As a result he built a huge factory complex in Rotterdam and had visions of a fleet of ships to gather and distribute his product. Van Nelle 1 (as she was originally known) was the first (and sadly the last) as the company shrivelled under the ravages of cost and war.
Van Nelle was built in 1905 in Alkmaar by the Nicolas Witsen Shipwerf. Exceeding it’s original quote in cost, she was originally 22 metres long and powered by a coal gas consuming Landaal engine, soon to be replaced by a Brons diesel, as the original continued to break down. The original captain was also replaced soon after launching by a Captain Slingerland, as his predecessor hit a bridge with the ship during it’s first year of service. Slingerland was to guide the ship until she was sold in 1953 when she was engaged to continue carrying drinking water and mail.
Her history during World War II is unclear but she continued with Van Nelle after having her name changed to Water Victory. She was decommissioned from the company in 1953, before being sold through several companies and in 1991 to several private owners in Amsterdam who used her for excursions but did not convert her for living. During this time her wheelhouse was extended and her engine changed to the current Baudouin, obtained from a ‘Spits’ barge which was about to be broken up. In 1998 she was sold to the carpenter and decorator, ‘80% Frank’ as his 5th boat conversion. And in 2001, I arrived.
We were later to meet the previous private owners and indeed, the grand daughter of Captain Slingerland, visit the ship’s birthplace, discover photographs of it just after launching, find her original order and her history through the Kadaster, the Netherlands titles office.
Our journey of discovery was not to begin for some time however as there was much to do just to get to own Van Nelle and there was obviously much to do in preparing the ship for it’s travels.
Saturday 16 June
I now decided I would have a bit of a holiday since the hard part of the project was now completed with just the formalities to arrange. I hoped ! Today I would relax and look around. That idea lasted for about an hour before I changed tacks and started on the to-do list, my mind too excited to just wander and sight see. I wanted to compare the cost and condition of scooters to motor bikes, do some laundry, change phone plans to see if I could reduce the communication costs and visit furniture shops (especially Ikea) for essential furnishings like beds.
The scooter investigation turned up a shop in Houten that sold new and used Peugeot, Piaggio and Honda machines. A new Peugeot Sportline scooter will cost less than a 15 year old 250cc bike and comes with a 3 year, Europe wide insurance and parts guarantee. Sounds good but the machine cannot be used on freeways so will be best left until I move closer to Loosdrecht and Van Nelle.
I then drove into Utrecht for the other items except, once again I missed not one by three turnoffs and entered the town from the north. It took some time to get to Centrum and the parking station, a different one since I still can’t find the first one which I thought was really convenient. I headed off to the Tourist Office to find out where the laundrette and Ikea could be found. They obliged with maps for both and I went off to do the washing, going via the phone office where I changed the phone plan. About an hour later I was at Ikea amassing a shopping list and shortly after I headed back to Houten - but first of course I took the wrong turn on to the freeway and had to reverse my direction some 5-10km later. Once on these European super freeways you are on them for up to 15 km or more before you can reverse directions. I decided then to make more use of my GPS.
Once back in Houten I went off to the supermarket to get some writing material. None were available but on the way out I spied racks of Van Nelle Tobacco. The company that built our ship is still in existence and according to Frank had just spent large amounts refurbishing their historic buildings. This was a bit of a revelation as it meant we could get information on her provenance.
I took the contact details from a tobacco packet in order to contact their PR people for any detail they may have on the ship. Walking back to the hotel I passed the tobacconists shop where, in the front window was a photo of the shop in 1930 with the words Van Nelle emblazoned all over the windows. I immediately asked the owner if I could borrow the picture to be copied. He was happy with the suggestion and I made arrangements with the local photographer to do the job on Monday.
A simple meal that night was found at the deli around the corner - a hamburger.
Sunday 17 - Contract negotiation day.
This turned out to be a bit of an anticlimax as Frank had arranged to meet at a restaurant and my juices were flowing - but it wasn’t to be lunch. We met at the restaurant at 1200 but immediately went out to the ship on the lake - Van Nelle that is. We sat at his table, without food, and agreed and disagreed about who would pay for the extra bits and work and how much - and guess what - I ended up paying for most of the items. But that’s what I expected so it was no great surprise.
After we agreed the detail for the contract I returned to Houten. An uneventful night except that I tried a new place to eat which turned out to be the best of the lot. They were full so I had to sit at the bar - that was great because I could see all the meals going out and choose the best. Sitting at the bar also gets you involved in the banter at the bar so you feel you have some company - even if it is all in Dutch.....
Monday 18 - A fill-in day that went up like a balloon.
I agreed to meet Frank at Loosdrecht to seek out dinghies and motors since I was going to need both to get out to the ship which would be anchored out at the lake. We met and transferred to his Land Rover and headed off to a couple of new and second hand equipment shops.
We sussed out a couple of likely boats and engines, finally bringing the cost down to about €1800 from nearer €6,000. The choice of both engine and motor are to some extent contingent on each other so I made offers and gave my phone number to receive acceptances or negotiation. Then we made some calls to book surveyors, insurance companies and a ship yard for a survey.
To cut to the chase - the shipyard contacted by Frank immediately said "come tomorrow", the insurance company said they could supply a surveyor and were happy to insure an Australian - and so, we were off to Amsterdam THE NEXT DAY !!!! Yea - a real trip in the boat.
That of course caused all sorts of considerations, not the least of which was that Frank and Louise and their two kids needed to relocate to her mother’s house on shore and therefore shift a whole bunch of personal belongings overnight since they were not coming for the week long trip. I was invited back to Van Nelle for dinner and to go over the plans for the trip before I went back to Houten to extricate myself from the Hotel Roskam and its owner, the Madam from hell!
This rather large, self important lady had been a pain when I checked in since I wanted to see the rooms and negotiate for a better one at a lower rate. She apparently had a low view of me from that exchange. I had paid a week in advance and she definitely did not want to give any of the money for the four unused days back. After trying to be nice for a while I lost it. We had a stand up fight in the bar / restaurant before I threatened to go to the VVV with threats about her license. At that she tactically withdrew to the office and when she re-appeared, threw money at me - not enough to cover the four days but enough for me to feel really good since I had been perfectly willing to go 50 / 50. As it happened, I had found another hotel right in Loosdrecht which I could use after the Amsterdam trip so I was not phased by not being able to return to the Roskam. After packing I went to bed that night with a delicious apprehension, waking at 5.00am Tuesday, ready to go.
Tuesday 19 - The cruise to Amsterdam
I managed to contain some of my early morning excitement by going for a run and packing the car before having breakfast. I then headed for Loosdrecht having given the Hotel Roskam and its owner an Aussie salute.
Now you know that I take at least one wrong turn on every journey, well, this time I didn’t ! On arrival at the roundabout just short of the boatyard however I was confronted with more of Holland’s road works which completely closed off the only road into town from this direction. Now I not only had to take another route - but I had to find it and not get so hopelessly misplaced that I would be late. I was actually about an hour and a half early but that gave me no comfort as I meandered the Dutch countryside. I actually tried following other cars that had also been stopped at Loosdrecht but they had apparently decided that they were NOT heading in my desired direction.
Thank God for GPS. I have been wearing out my little hand held Magellan since I arrived and it had saved me hours. Unfortunately it is not (yet) programmed with all the roads and towns of Holland - but it soon will be !
I arrived an hour before the meeting time of 8.30am and called Frank to advise. He was early also and arrived a half hour later with his daughter Cosette, who goes to school just across the road from the yacht harbour. We then went off to the boat and were received by a hassled looking Louise - his partner and mother of the kids. Boxes were loaded into their biggish dinghy and she set off for shore as we started the engine and headed off towards the Vecht - the narrow canal out of the lakes.
What can I say - this was bliss - it just doesn’t get any better. Sun shining, lots of boats - big, bigger, small and HUGE. Small canals with tiny locks and big canals with huge ones and Amsterdam harbour, full of ferries, barges and ships, and I drove Van Nelle (almost) all the way....BLISS.
There is a cute custom here where the lock keepers and bridge operators swing a clog attached to a pole by fishing line out to the boats going through for donations. You don’t have to pay - but don’t come back this way if you don’t, since they have long poles and longer memories.
On the way, we were behind a Locaboat 1260 (the boat we had in France on our last trip with David and Judith Reed and Gary and Dianne Prattley) and a private cruiser. After being held up by the obviously inexperienced Locaboat operator for a while in small canals I pushed the throttle fully forward and breezed past at over 14 km/h, that’s nearly 9 knots, pretty amazing considering the size of the boat and the fact that it only has a 150hp engine.
We took 4 hours to get to Amsterdam and after about an hour’s wait we came out of the water. This was achieved by manoeuvring Van Nelle on to a submerged cradle that is hauled up a slope by a powerful electric winch. It is important to get your ship perfectly aligned with the bearers that support it or damage can be caused to the hull and important parts such as the rudder and propeller. Fortunately the yard crew and Frank knew where to position Van Nelle and it was all soon aligned, secured and the tow out completed easily.
Now bear in mind that seeing the bottom of the boat for the first time is fraught with apprehension as its condition is critical to the future of your ownership. She was just beautiful. Absolutely beautiful !
I became very emotional as it was such a momentous occasion as our magnificent ship rose out of the water, straight, true, huge and elegant. It was a hell of a feeling and a hell of a good day. I had however some work to do to prepare for the conference with the yard manager, set for the next morning, to agree the extent of work required and the costs, so after a couple of revolutions around the boat I hopped aboard to get organised. This was a strange environment for it was my first time on the boat alone and it was now on a pronounced angle, down at the stern on the slipway. And since it was out of the water , I could not use items such as the shower, the toilet and the sinks. Fortunately the ship yard had facilities nearby for just that eventuality and so for the next few days I was to climb up and down ladders on a regular basis.
The next day came quickly and a lot happened.
The boat was pressure cleaned early and the surveyor arrived to mark the hull in about 40 places where his hammer indicated he should test hull thickness. This is done by cleaning the hull of paint down to shiny metal and applying an electronic measuring device. If the thickness of the plate is less than about 4mm a new piece of steel has to be welded over the top. Fortunately this was not the case and he reported as such to his insurance company. They however got stroppy that I didn’t have a Dutch address. We therefore gave them the flick and found another barge insurance company, Schepen Onderling, which was happy to take our money. The costs are 0.7% of the value of the boat with a 1,000 Guilder excess to insure the boat for 300,000 guilders with a 2 year no claim benefit provided. At this time the Euro had not been announced.
I had to go off to Utrecht to transfer money after a conference with Mijnheer Post Brouwer - the stately and lovely owner of the yard - about the jobs and costs. I requested a list of jobs, including painting and antifouling below the waterline, painting the freeboard (the top part of the hull above the waterline), putting handles, locks and props on all the skylights, providing and installing a double gas box (I ran out of gas that night and having only one bottle could not cook the chicken I had bought), building a new front hatch, putting double horns on the bollards and fixing a leaking water tank.
I returned from Utrecht to find the boat painted. If I thought it looked good before, you can imaging my delight at its shiny new appearance when I returned - and that was only the first coat !
This is a great place to do these things. The professionals are helpful and skilled and not avaricious or devious. The slipways are good and there are showers and toilets plus shore power and a key to the yard provided for car and pedestrian access. Of course they had plenty of time to do the painting since I had travelled almost to Arnhem and Breda before I got onto the freeway in the correct direction - well, I didn’t know the Dutch geography and you have to make decisions very quickly.
As the evening arrived I was in a pretty good state of mind. ‘The Police’ were giving me their best hits from the CD player, I’d had cheese and bickies with a couple of Leffe Blondes (beers) from Belgium and since I could not cook my chicken dinner as I had run out of gas, I had to go out for another cheap meal. It was Indian last night but there were plenty of other choices as the area was dotted with lots of small, inexpensive restaurants.
Oh yes, the mouse ! (Maureen loved this).
Apparently Frank and Louise’s cat loves catching mice and rather than eating them he brings them onto the boat. This morning as I slept on the sofa (since the beds have been pulled up to fix the tanks) I heard and saw a small movement. A little mouse with big ears scampering about the saloon floor looking for crumbs. Cute but condemned ! Mouse traps have been added to the shopping list. We have ants too. These things and more WILL be fixed over the next month.
The next night I was woken by the feeling that someone was tugging my hair. As I snapped on the torch I saw and heard a mouse running away, across the floor. In one movement I picked up and hurled a boot at it and miraculously hit it. Exit one dead mouse and enter several traps in which I caught his mate. That was the end of the mouse plague and my hair thinning experience.
The next day I conducted some full power supervising and got some personal work done on the preparation to revarnish the wheelhouse that was to make a big difference to the appearance of the superstructure. The other big jobs were the preparation and painting of the decks and roofs and the cleaning out and painting of the engine room. That had to wait till we went back to Loosdrecht.
Head Jobs. No I’m not starting on the pornographic sections of a yet to be written novel - or talking about work on the toilet - I’m talking about the number of times I have battered my bean on low objects. As every boat owner knows, there are always areas on boats where you can bump your head. It takes a few months and bumps until ducking projections becomes sub-conscious and since I’m now talking about it - yes I had a growing number of small head wounds accumulating. That is not to say that you have to be a midget to enjoy Van Nelle - hell it has more than 6'6" (2.06m) head room - but there are a couple of head bangers in unusual places.
Just a final note on that day. The banks are very efficient I Holland but they got this one wrong. I went to the bank in Utrecht to transfer Van Nelle’s payment to the broker’s account and to pick up my cash card. They had the card but when it came to activating it with the pin number I had been given - no go. That caused lots of teeth sucking at the bank and a suggestion I should check in Australia for the letter that has the original number on it. Nope, Maureen hadn’t seen it. Only one thing for it - either a new card or a new pin number. How do you get it - by letter - another week before that can happen. Ah well, its good to have Visa and traveller’s cheques.
Footnote: I went to another branch after Maureen advised the number had arrived and it was processed without a hitch. The only glitch was when the issuing centre activated the new pin. Oh well, tomorrow was another day of excitement, fun and fulfilment. How’s your tomorrow looking ?
Thursday 21
They say things have to get worse before they get better and that seems to be the case inside the boat. The water tanks had to be fixed as they apparently overflow when filled and since they have timber surrounding them it all has to come out. The welding work on the bollards, windows and skylights made them all look like they were under construction and added worker’s boot prints all over the deck. The wheelhouse had the carpet lifted and I installed a two way radio, all of which added to the confusion.
Today the electrician I had asked for came to be briefed and to prepare a quote. 36 hours was a guess at 90 guilders an hour plus parts. I wanted him to restore the original engine control panel, provide a new alternator and do some work on the batteries, starter, engine stop and other miscellaneous, but obviously expensive items. He indicated that work would not be able to be started for a couple of weeks, by which time I would obviously be back at Loosdrecht. However, it was possible to return when the container of our household goods from Australia arrived and to be able to unpack it directly onto the boat at that time.
I had previously found a great chandler and had to drag myself away twice after buying a two way radio and three fire extinguishers. I saw and wanted to buy a cable connection for the GPS plus its European data base and some brass portholes but I went quietly after talking to myself severely.
The purchase of the radio raised a few questions at the shop. Did I have a license ? The radio is capable of some functions not allowed by the licensing bureau in Holland, did I want them enabled or disabled ? Will it be exported ? Radios were at that time still tightly controlled in Holland and subject to your holding an operator’s licence. Once I gave appropriate answers their response was ‘Primo ! (Ok then), if it is to be sold to an Australian who will take it away and who has an Australian pilot’s license then we can program it to your wishes and you can leave with it now’.
The Dutch have a very formal side and another side which tries to avoid regulation, tax and taboos at every opportunity. You have to listen to their questions carefully. For example, when I was presented with a quote for some work I was asked if I was happy to pay the 19% GST. Naively I said Yes I was OK with it - since I didn’t believe it was optional. It was later explained that had I said no, the final account would not have been formally written and the amounts altered accordingly. I wondered whether this was an acceptable alternative to claiming back the VAT / GST at the border which foreigners can do. Probably not !
Today, having been able to A) get rid of Frank’s 4 bags of garbage from the deck and B) get a new gas bottle, I would have a night ‘at home’ on the boat to cook the chicken and vegetables I had bought yesterday. There were no signs of any more creepy crawlies or four footed friends since I sent Mickey and Minney to mouse heaven so I will be eating alone. Oh yes, I almost went to Amsterdam last night as the black Rastafarian living on a nearby ship was off to a reggae jam session with about 20 muso friends. He mentioned Amsterdam and ‘back at about 2.30am’ so I felt it was best to wish him well and not chance the local breathalyser since I had already had a couple of Leffe Blondes in town and noticed they were 10% proof - and we think our beer is strong. By the way, I sought out light beer and have been assured it is available but haven’t been able to actually find any.
Tomorrow they pressure test the tanks and finish the windows, skylights and other small jobs and I get to clean the engine room bilge. Oh well.
Friday 22 June
Filthy, disgusting, atrocious, smelly, gunky, slimy, black, cloying - what other words can I find to describe the accumulated detritus of three or more years of an owner who obviously doesn’t care what is in the bottom of his boat. Wood, wire, plastic, paper, oil, water and God knows what else I fished, dug, picked and scooped out of the engine room bilge. Two hours and three sets of rubber gloves later, I had four, 20 litre drums of oil enriched water and three buckets of bits to dispose of. This is the kind of job that can only be done effectively in a shipyard which has the facilities to dispose of this muck properly. Van Nelle was standing next to a huge steel tank that had been acquired by the yard to hold bilge water and old oil. It was close enough to lay a plank across to it from the deck and thereby easily dump container after filthy container of contents straight in. This made this job almost bearable despite the height off the ground from the precarious plank bridge being about 5 metres.
Feeling somewhat dehydrated at 11.00am after starting before 8.00, I decided to take a break while the workers got on with the windows, skylights and water tanks. I went to the hardware store - where else does a bloke without a shed go ? What wonders you can find in these amazing temples to DIY. New doors for the bathroom, shower screens and shower extensions with five speed water delivery, paints, brushes, scrapers, silicone, plastic rubbish bags and rust preparation paint were all on the shopping list and all were here. These huge markets also have a wide range of kitchen bench tops for example and they will cut them perfectly to your specifications at no charge !
I wandered lonely as a cloud until I passed their cafeteria where I bought a Sprite lemonade from a young girl who, after looking at my Albany Festival tee shirt said "sailing ?" "No" I replied trying to find a way to explain the Centenary of Federation Festival and ANZAC Day to a Dutch girl in English. "Explain it anyway you like" she said, this time with an English accent. Seems she is the girlfriend of a boy born in Australia who has lived and worked on boats in the UK most of his 20 something years and has now bought a ex fishing boat which they are converting. So far, the five month project has been ten months in the making and hence the girlfriend’s job at the hardware supermarket. I chatted boats for a while and headed back to do the balance of the bilge and to fix the glass into the new front hatch.
The problem with the water tanks has now been resolved. Both the main and auxiliary tanks inspection plate bolts were loose allowing water to spill over the top and look like it was coming from the welds. I had another boat with leaking tanks welds but this was a simple answer. After securing the bolts, about 20 minutes of testing proved they both held their pressure - so that was that - another tick in the done column and much less expensive than expected..
I decided I would celebrate by having another Indian meal in Zaandam, the nearby town. Another night in another town, another meal in another restaurant and another beer in another bar. This town is canal side and has a lot of history attached to it. It has a preserved early version lock - non operational - and a super new one alongside. It also has a couple of town squares lined by cafes and restaurants. Perfect for the single man to check out the locals whilst imbibing a couple of restorative beverages.
Postscript: Having purchased some very mean mouse traps and having eliminated the other mouse, I set them again - just in case. This time all the cheese was taken. Drat, there’s another mouse in the house. I reset the traps and went to town for dinner. When I returned the traps were all set and the cheese still in them except one - the trap has gone ! This is mousegate, war is declared with the score 2:1 to me. These little field mice have a short life span since I am going to win this war of attrition. The ants however are a different issue. We had some ants on Tension Cutter, our boat in Western Australia and I can’t remember how we eventually got rid of them. A gas bomb I think. Anyway I will try the poison mixed with sticky alcohol. If it doesn’t work we can all just have a party, me the mice and the ants.
Tomorrow is the return trip to Loosdrecht and return to hotel life for a week until Frank and Louise leave the boat on Saturday next. The shipyard invoice has been delivered (including the VAT - drat) and the boat is in all respects ready for sea - or the canals anyway. I have to return here for the engine rewiring job and the installation of a ‘blue flag’ later if I choose to do so in Amsterdam. (Note: A blue flag is actually a blue board which sits outside the wheelhouse and rotates 90 degrees to indicate that you will pass an oncoming ship on the wrong side - starboard to starboard. This occurs where an upstream ship can choose the side of the channel it wishes to hold to. This allows it to avoid beating into the heaviest part of the current by swapping from slack side to slack side of the channel).
I will try to coordinate the next trip down with the availability of the container so our belongings and furniture can be loaded directly onto the boat. I wonder what chance there is of that ? It would also be nice to have Maureen arrive at the same time. Lets see, the container left about 11 / 12 June with an expected 6-8 weeks transit. This would have it here between 23 July and 6 August. If I come up on 23 July for a week it could be OK since M arrives on the 25th. On the other hand we could end up empty, waiting for a couple of weeks for tables and chairs, plates, cooking stuff and eating irons, bed linen etc. Interesting. The other complication is the availability of the electrician. We will just have to wait and see. 10.30pm, time for bed. There will be a few complications in the morning with the change over of cars, launching time and so on. So far I am also unaware of the time the ship will be launched and have to be on her when she is.
Saturday 23
About 8.30am the workers arrived to start things humming at Sheepswerf Brouwer and shortly after announced that Van Nelle would be launched, but first, I had to show them grease coming out of the stern gland, a point I had not considered. This is a wise precaution of all shipyards as it is detrimental to their reputation to have a boat sink just after it has been serviced by them. Frank had muttered something about getting a new grease gun (there is one permanently attached to the stern gland) but I had not been involved so had paid little attention. Now however I had to locate it, and having done so, make it work. I soon discovered that it was sans fat or ‘without grease’ so the hunt was on for a refill. Two refills later I had grease coming out of the stern gland and they were ready to lower the boat. Frank was not in evidence, as we had to do a relay with cars each time we take the boat to or from the yard, so I took charge and into the water we went. Simple really and she floated right on the new water line we had established.
At this stage I had to drive to Loosdrecht to bring Frank back to the yard, leaving one car at each end. On arrival, with the boat in Loosdrecht we would normally have to drive Frank’s car back to the yard to pick up mine but on this occasion he arranged for his father to drive us, and the kids - four of them including a couple of cousins - back to the boat. It seems Frank is in the dog house with Louise for having deprived her of a home before properly providing a new one, so he had the kids for the weekend. He loves his kids and enjoys being with them so it’s no chore for him. He also mentioned to me that his philosophy was one of semi independence in a relationship, something I’m not all that sure Louise agrees with.
Travel relay finished we joined Van Nelle, started the engine and headed off back to Loosdrecht. Saturday morning found Amsterdam harbour less busy and it was again a pretty day so the cruise back was fun as I ran the boat and Frank went to work to repair the bed he had almost destroyed in order for the water tanks to be repaired and tested. Having made good time on the harbour and Amsterdam-Rhine Canal we meandered once we joined the ‘Vecht’, the small canal to Loosdrecht, as there were plenty of small pleasure boats making their way up and down the waterway.
We were ‘dirty’ on our way to Amsterdam but had cruised effortlessly at 9-12kmh with seemingly little power applied and very low revs and now ‘clean’, with the throttle pushed as far forward as possible (but still with some power unavailable due to the adjustment of the throttle cable at the engine end), had made 14kmh. While this may not sound fast, most of the cruising waterways are restricted to 8kmh or less to avoid washing out the banks and few boats on any of the major waterways exceed 15kmh. It is good to know that we can cruise effortlessly and economically at speed with no strain on the running gear, or slowly to enjoy the passing scenery.
By about 3.00pm we were back on the Loosdrechtse heading for ‘the island’, a small uninhabited low piece of land with a small marina built to service the many day-tripper boats that flock to this and other locations on the water. Here, the city crowds become the weekend crowds. Good weather, together with an almost complete lack of wind, meant the lake was littered with scores of small sailboats drifting aimlessly, some filled to capacity with young and old, many stripped to the skin to absorb the thin filtered sunlight. ‘Number three your time is up’ in these conditions requires the hire company sending out a power boat to tether all the small yachts in strings to tow them back to the marina. They look like mothers and chicks.
Now that the bilge and engine have been cleaned, my chief issue on this trip was to observe the engine room to discover where any engine oil or water leaks are, how much oil is used and how the temperatures and pressures change under load. To my great pleasure, apart from some spillage from the rear of the block after I ran the oil pump, there were no problems evident. This ancient engine has a press lever on the side to operate an oil pump that sends fluid to service the tappets, valves and assorted springs at the top of the engine. This is done every 2-4 hours depending on how hard you are running the motive power. Since the block slopes, surplus oil runs to the lowest point and some leaks out the back end. I will just send less oil up there in future.
We arrived at the island marina and took up a position almost obliterating the view of half the boats, due to our imposing size, and the kids went off to swim while Frank and ‘Pop’, his father (who had joined us at the island), went off to fetch the Tjalk (his other barge still under conversion as his new home). Since I had taken all my gear to the hotel on my trip to pick up Frank this morning I had no shorts and was now sweltering in the afternoon heat. I commandeered a large towel which made an acceptable sarong (something I think we will need plenty of) and settled into a rickety cane chair on the huge afterdeck with a beer to observe ‘hollandius femalus strippen’ - bare breasted, blond, Dutch maidens slowly sailing past on hire boats.
Some time later the Tjalk and crew arrived and after securing her, Frank departed for food. I paid for a Chinese takeaway for us all to have on the boat. This was accompanied by kids games and a few Dutch language lessons followed by an eventful trip back to shore and the cute hotel I was in for the week. Eventful since the bow line disappeared under the boat shortly after leaving the island and became secured to something, but not the propeller. I held it all the way into the jachtharbour and left Frank to do the underwater business as Pop and I departed.
Reopened just last week, the Heineke Hotel’s rooms are the size of our former walk-in wardrobe but are very nicely renovated and decorated and have tiny but functional en-suites. This is bliss after the shared bathroom in Houten and the primitive facilities at the boatyard. I showered and repaired to the street front terrace for a drink before bed, only to be accosted by the owner who doubles as maitre ‘d and waiter. This episode must have been my fault to some extent as I had asked for an explanation of the Dame Blanche - a dessert I was unfamiliar with. Walter, the owner / waiter (to the great amusement of the other nearby patrons), proceeded to tell me that no self respecting person would eat shaved ice with chocolate sauce while drinking beer, as I was. He then disappeared briefly, reappearing with a fresh beer and a glass of red wine - which, he explained, was the only acceptable drink to take with Dame Blanche. Then, he thanked me for buying him the wine and drank it ! At this the rest of the guests roared with laughter and the only course of action left to the unfortunate butt of this huge joke was to go along with it. We saluted each other and the other guests.
A few moments later a small group arrived, settled at a table and after a brief look at the menu, made an inquiry about one or more of the items or conditions on it. Wrong option guys !. Walter then gave them the treatment, had another free glass of wine and we all had another big laugh. New arrivals sorted out, he then sat beside me and asked what I was doing in Loosdrecht. I replied I had come to buy a ship.
‘No, do not buy a ship, buy a smart car and a nice house’.
‘Too late’ I responded, ‘the deed is done’.
‘Then we need another drink.’
‘A carafe then ?’
We proceeded to make short work of the small carafe of red while he and the other waiter questioned me about Van Nelle and what we were to do with her. They were satisfied that this was a good ship and it had gone to righteous new owners, especially if she was to stay under Dutch registration and carry the pride of Holland abroad. We drank to that, and seemingly to lots of other things. Walter had done about four tables with the free red wine trick and had half a carafe with me before, somewhat unsteadily, he announced he was off home. His wife had left earlier with a sniff at him and with their dog in tow. I guess he was heading for the dog house too.
Loosdrecht is actually only a large dyke running between too large bodies of water, one of which is the lake system for which the town is named. The dyke is quite wide and has this hotel and many other buildings, shops, homes and boat yards on it. A road runs through the middle which the hotel fronts onto. On both sides of the road are boat related businesses and restaurants. According to photos and documents framed on the wall (including one of the original owner’s very beautiful wife), the hotel was a pensione / camping ground and water-sport facility from before 1900. At that time it probably fronted the water, some of which has been reclaimed to make provision for the growing number of holiday-makers who flock here. Much is within walking distance, including a cash machine, but like the road, it is closed for repairs, requiring a 3km drive to the banks.
It is holiday time in Europe so there are lots of couples and families here for a break. You recognise all the types, disgruntled teenagers with over happy parents, disgruntled parents with sullen kids and happy young families. Then there are the couples and small groups, both happy and non-communicative. I’ve been writing this for a short while now and am now disturbed by Walter who is yelling at a couple who brought their dog into the terrace and now want to steal bones off the dinner tables of other patrons to feed it. It’s turning into Faulty Towers here tonight - a small waterside hotel with an erratic owner and six different ways to serve potatoes, even mashed if there is time !
Tomorrow is Sunday. Frank is going to spend quality time with his kids at the island and I will discover the markets and other places of interest. I can’t believe that it is only two days short of two weeks. So much has happened in that time. I am delighted and uplifted when I think that this adventure does not have to end. It is the first time I have had an open ended opportunity rather than a finite time in which to achieve something. This is totally unlike a holiday or an overseas assignment where, eventually, you have to go home to return to work. It’s a bit scary and exhilarating at the same time. Now when I look at my watch it’s for interest more than anxiety since if I don’t do ‘it’ today, there is always tomorrow.
Sunday
It’s amazing how quickly your world can come crashing to a stop.
Maureen’s email today brought news that her mammograms had show tissue that would have to be investigated by biopsy. As much as both of us believe and hope they will be nothing to worry about, the fear grips like a vice. She wanted me not to call her and I tried for an hour but couldn’t. We connected and really couldn’t say anything much to each other for minutes. I felt wretched, a long way from her and amazed at how brave she is at times like this but also how brittle. It will be terrible if this problem becomes a major issue as it will affect her deeply. We have both invested so much into this project, to have it come to a halt by such a random act of biochemical viciousness will be a terrible act. It will be Wednesday before the results of tests made on Monday will be known. The wait is already creating stress which can only increase as the time drags inexorably on to Wednesday.
It seems that this adventure is to be one of incredible highs and lows. We had a long wait and several reductions of price on our house as the time came closer to our deadline - and then a satisfactory sale. Then the realisation that there was only one suitable boat - and the purchase at just the right time. We have watched the Aussie dollar go through the floor, then rally just when we needed it to and I had the stress before the survey of Van Nelle’s hull, and then it’s perfect score. Even relatively minor things like the engine test have been marked by days of apprehension followed by minutes of elation and relief - but nothing as momentous as the possibility of breast cancer.
I wanted some company today of all days and it was the day when I did not even have Frank. Now as the day draws to a close, I really don’t want to have to wait until Wednesday but I know I have to. I don’t want to go ahead with decisions on the outboard motor and dinghy and the Peugeot scooter but I will have to and going to the bank tomorrow to arrange payment of Brouwer’s invoice will seem like a waste of money. Most of all I don’t want Maureen to be distressed or disfigured. She has a lovely, shapely, soft and curvy body which does not deserve to be at the mercy of some surgeon’s scalpel or to have to face the other ramifications of this dreaded curse. So all we can do is wait and hope. It will be whatever it will be, nothing can change that. I believe more and more that fate of some kind is guiding us to a destination that we have little influence over and maybe no knowledge of. We can only hope it fits with our plans.
Monday 25
Well Louise has made her position clear according to Frank. Van Nelle is her home until she has to leave on Saturday and so no work will be done by me. The baby has sleep times and will not be kept awake by some Australian wielding a rust hammer. I can’t blame her. According to Frank he is no closer to finding a home either.
I spent the day going to Hilversum (a largish regional town/city) twice to find a motor scooter, pay the shipyard via the bank transfer system (they have no cheques in Holland) and finding the laundry. I did the latter two on the first trip and in between I bought the outboard motor - a Mariner 4hp for those interested, and the dinghy - a little clinker sailing boat in fibreglass with a bit of work required and a tendency to travel with its nose in the air as if to say - ‘I am the vehicle of the owners of Van Nelle and all you piddling little pleasure boats better watch what you do or I’ll have my big brother fix you up’ !
I had to buy a piece of timber for a seat since to sit in the stern would court disaster of the wet posterior kind and also a length of poly pipe and some tape to secure it to the hand throttle, since when I now sit in the centre I can’t reach the throttle without it. I could do Rod Cummins’ trick and put a little centre console in - except that this is a sail boat and that would stuff it right up. I have not yet tried or even picked up the mast, sails, centreboard and rudder as they won’t fit unless rigged and that is too hard. I will just borrow Frank’s big dinghy to transport them to Van Nelle later.
Everyone is very helpful. I tried to find a short thin piece of timber to use as a spacer in order to point the prop further down and therefore lower the bow. As I was poking about in the boat yard, one of the guys from the workshop asked what I was doing and then selected a piece of his bosses prime timber, cut a piece off to my specifications and handed it over, affecting a pained look when I offered money. I later went to the office of another yard that is conveniently placed opposite the hotel to ask if I could leave my dinghy there overnight. ‘Is it secured with a chain - there is no insurance ‘ he said and that was that ! I immediately rushed off to the boat shop for a length of chain and a lock - and also asked if they had instructions on how to splice ropes.
‘No, but come back early morning and he will teach you, he has better English’. The owner said pointing to his son. Amazing. Who said the Dutch were difficult. Expensive at times, but so far very helpful is my experience. Maybe I’m learning to smile as I ask - who knows ?
So. The lady at the Wasserette wants to do my washing -‘just come back one day later - all finished’ - the bank are happy to do the transfers in person - none of this machine stuff, the yacht yards are happy to oblige, the scooter man offered the right model with extra options at a much lower price than the company in Houten and the only problem today was not getting to play with the boat. By the way, the scooter man offered to order in the correct model scooter so it could be ready for Saturday even though I am not prepared to commit to it till after Wednesday.
Walter the crazy waiter was in full flight again tonight, drinking the health of everyone with my wine, good, bad or indifferent, and there was an English couple (East enders who now live in Spain but caravan to Loosdrecht each year) who he put next to me for company. We talked boats and houses in Spain and other bits and pieces till Walter finished our drinks and we all went off to bed - or to write a journal or whatever.
So it is now 2 weeks since I left Australia. I have inspected a number of boats, selected one, made an offer and had it accepted, sailed the boat to Amsterdam and had it surveyed, insured and substantial work done on it, brought it back, found and bought a dinghy and motor, a scooter, a hotel better than the previous one, several hardware markets, Ikea - and - in the last two days I have not been lost ! I am even starting to understand a bit of the written Dutch - but the spoken words are still on the horizon. It’s the accent. Its terrible. Someone ought to teach them some elocution.......
Tuesday 26th
The next four days were mostly repetitive but at least I could work on Van Nelle. Scraping old varnish off the wheelhouse windows and doors and preparing the timber for re-coating was relieved by short trips to Hilversum and Oud Loosdrecht for supplies and bits from the hardware store. Well, you have to have bits from a hardware store. Someone told me once that every job needs another power tool !
Life is pleasant at the Heineke Hotel where mad Walter reigns supreme and I have now found a café where good cheap food can be had nearby. The young guy in the office of the marina was busy at the time I confirmed my dinghy parking space and he just told me to park it, chain it and he would check later. He hasn’t and I haven’t asked. However, I move to the ‘lighthouse’ marina after Saturday when I move onto Van Nelle permanently. It’s the place where Frank has his mooring and I can leave the dinghy and scooter there when I am out on the lake.
Wednesday 27.
Test results showed the lump in Maureen’s breast was a benign cyst and the relief was overwhelming. We were both pretty emotional and happy and full of enthusiasm looking forward to her arrival. Work took on a different, happy aspect.
Thursday 28th
This was another of the repetitive days except I took Frank and Louise to dinner. Frank was to have booked a table at ‘de Otter’ restaurant where jazz is played on Thursday nights. I found out on Thursday morning that he had forgotten and the restaurant was fully booked. We went there anyway since they have an outdoor area which they don’t take bookings for. It rained as we arrived so I suggested a small restaurant at the marina where I keep the dinghy. They had a table and a great menu.
I ordered a red and a white. The white was just OK but not really to my taste as it was a bit tart but the red was awful. I reluctantly called the waitress over to suggest the wine was corked and after a quick sniff of the bottle she agreed, accepted my request for a different wine and happily left advising that the wholesaler would take it back with a refund. It is unusual to get bad bottles of wine in Australia but apparently not here. We ended up back at de Otter after dinner to listen to the last hour of music. Frank disappeared and I chatted with Louise until the music finished and Frank reappeared. They don’t seem to spend a lot of time together.
Friday 29
We all faced Friday and the move of the deJong family off the boat with hang-overs. Frank had hired a couple of young guys to assist him with the work on the Tjalk but today they were roped in to removal duty. I came along to help out as well and to put aboard my big suitcase in order to make my move onto the boat on Saturday easier.
We spent the day removing items, boxes, furniture etc and carting it to the warehouse where Frank had negotiated some space. Hot work as it was a boiling day, but it all went according to plan. I was thinking as the boxes came off that they seemed to have fewer than we have to go on ! I’m sure ours will all fit - somewhere ?
Friday night was Beach Party night at Heineke Hotel. Crazy Walter had arranged a ute load of sand (very gray and grainy), lots of umbrellas, candles, beach balls and other paraphernalia. Everyone was greeted with a paper flower lei and a glass of Sangria, which tasted a whole lot better than their house wine ! I suppose this was a party for locals as they all seemed to know each other. Lots of loud music and even louder shirts, some dancing, mostly talking (Dutch, so I picked up little) and drinking. It seemed that it was planned to end at 1.00am but about 12.30 I slipped away to bed.
Saturday 30
I had arranged for Frank to pick me up at Schipol airport since I had to return the hire car by 10.30am. That was done efficiently and Frank arrived at about 11.00 to take us into Amsterdam to look for portholes. I need a couple of a particular size which we have not been able to locate at any of the usual shops. We went to a barge moored in Amsterdam which, below decks, is an amazing store of boat accessories - mostly brass and copper portholes, wheels, bells, lights and other hefty stuff. The operator of this emporium is a slip of a girl who apparently started her working life as an air hostess but moonlighted by bringing in brass fittings two at a time in her bags. She made contacts in Singapore and India where these fittings are made. She now brings in container loads of the things, selling them in large lots to shops and boat builders. Unfortunately she did not have the size I required but Frank bought 3 for his Tjalk.
We headed back to Hilversum for me to buy a doona, doona cover, pillow, sheets and towels so I could sleep properly on Van Nelle. I bought the items in a rush as Frank had arranged for two young guys to be ready on board for a days work at 1.00pm and it was now 12.45. He left with my sleeping accoutrements (which I hope will fit with Maureen’s decor plans) and I headed of to the scooter shop. The scooter was ready but it still took nearly an hour to arrange the license plates, insurance etc. I then put on the new helmet, started the awesome 50cc engine and puttered off to Loosdrecht. It’s a cute and very manoeuvrable little machine and once it has been run in over the first 500km (nothing over 50kmh and please do mostly city driving - no long country trips) it is supposed to be capable of up to 70kmh. I can’t wait. However it is a good choice as it is quite light and should be easy to winch onto the boat. It can carry two adults for reasonable distances on the smell of an oily rag. I had an extra luggage box installed on the back so we can even take a spare pair of knickers for an overnight stay away from Van Nelle - or buy a dozen bottles of wine to take back to the boat.
On arrival back at Loosdrecht I arranged to leave the scooter at the Heineke Hotel and took the dinghy out to the boat after a quick trip to the local supermarket for some necessities. Its amazing that when you move into a new abode you really have to restock everything and there’s a lot of ‘everythings’. I guess by the time Maureen arrives I will have just about got it all.
Saturday night was the night for a fight with Frodo.
Frodo is the de Jong’s cat. A male, black cat, quite young and now on its third boat. Except its not on its third boat, it is still on Van Nelle. Now how did that happen ? Well apparently there is no room for it in Louise’s mother’s home with all the other lodgers so Frodo gets to stay at sea. Its supposed to be on the Tjalk, which today is still tied to Van Nelle. The cat however hates the noise of engines and the Tjalk has its generator going most of the time - so Frodo, even if it liked the Tjalk, would not stay on it. However, while its food is on the Tjalk, now that I am cooking on Van Nelle, Frodo has arrived for dinner
.I pick up cat and carry it (carefully since it is kicking, fighting, wriggling and trying hard to disembowel me) to the Tjalk and dinner. Once released, Frodo is off. I retreat to Van Nelle’s kitchen and some hours later become aware that Frodo is back. Despite me closing doors and windows, this cat can find its way back in a snap. Another traumatic trip to the Tjalk - now quiet since the boys have finished work and departed. The cat this time reluctantly eats some of its food after being stroked into submission. I leave again and all is quiet.
At about 3.00am I become aware of movement in the bed. An exploratory hand encounters a furry, purring object. Purring abruptly ceases as Frodo is sent hurtling towards the door by a well meaning lift of one leg. We all settle down again with Frodo now convinced he is not welcome in close proximity to the strange creature now inhabiting his home. He is found the next morning, asleep on the office chair, the only soft item apart from the bed.
I wouldn’t mind if the damn cat would just catch and kill the mice he has so generously introduced to his home but he doesn’t and I am allergic to cats. The scratches I was unable to avoid are now red welts that itch and threaten to precipitate hay fever or worse - asthma. Frodo and I are not going to be friends. Later the next day I find him curled up in the extreme point of the bows. I take a peace offering of a bowl of milk but get little in return.
Sunday 1 July
Varnishing. Will it ever end.....not in my lifetime I suspect. I had started the varnishing by starting to sandpaper and scrape back the old, peeling varnish while in the yard in Amsterdam. Some further work had been done on return to Loosdrecht but was intermittent due to the other inhabitants on the boat till the weekend. So now I was able to really get to grips with this and other time consuming (and sometimes painful) jobs. There is one consolation, I now have no leaves to rake as I am on a boat not in a house ! I can take the varnishing since I know that once done, it will not need more than a touch up here and there for some years to come unlike the weeding and leaf raking back in Perth at the now sold house. (And hope springs eternal !). Another day of varnishing punctuated by a trip to Gamma (the hardware store) for some parts to make showering possible.
One can buy a shower kit to convert a blank wall and a bath into a shower. A two metre hose, a chrome adjustable shower head holder, a soap holder to fit and presto. The bath (yes folks this ship has a full size bath) now has a shower as well, with full head height and full pressure, very hot (and cold) water. Mind you we still have a few little details to work out - such as a shower curtain (the new shower screen is on order) and some towel racks. These would have to be bought and fitted Monday as Gamma closed at 5.00pm Sunday, too early for me to get back there for the additional bits as I was also slaving over a hot varnish stripper.
I celebrated my little achievements with a snack dinner of Camembert, a French red, some sausages and potato salad. Yum.
Monday 2 July
Its now three weeks since I left and in record time I am living on our little ship and it is starting to show the effects of the work I have put into her over the past week or so.
A trip to Gamma the hardware store for the shower was followed by atrip into Hilversum for some kitchen things, like a draining board and washing rack thingo. I found the shop, it had all its chairs and things out on the pavement but the woman in charge ran me out onto the street declaring they were shut until 1.00pm. As it was only 11.30 I was not about to wait around but was somewhat bemused by the open shop that was shut. Strange ways these Dutch. They close shops for a day or two each week but not all on the same days - so its pot luck as to whether the one you want will be open on the day you visit. They also start very late (1.00pm) some days and close at 6.00pm normally but earlier on some days. ????? I guess I will get the hang of it just before I leave.
No sign of Frodo today as the Tjalk has moved to the nearby island marina for Frank to do some painting and the boys to finish off smoothing the hull. I pottered over there a couple of times during the day to sharpen my varnish stripper on Frank’s wheel and to chat with Ben, Frank’s father. He is a lovely, jolly chap, a retired bio-chemist, now working long hours on his son’s boat.
I achieved a fair bit today. I installed the shower curtain, the towel rack, a Dutch power plug on the computer power cord and finished stripping the old varnish off the outside of the wheelhouse. I even put on the first three undercoats of new varnish on the exposed teak windows. Inside, I still have 2 steps on the staircase to strip and all the timber to put two coats of finishing varnish on, I feel like I am near the end of this bit of this job and am now kicking myself for having rushed some areas.
There are still a bunch of jobs to do. Install a working foul water tank and pump system, build a bed in the forward bedroom, install kick boards in the saloon, scrape rust and tar off the decks and repaint them, scrape rust off the coach roof and repaint it, fix the mast so the light cable is inside and it lowers to the height of the folded down wheelhouse, finish the walls in the forward cabin and arrange ventilation for the 3rd bedroom. I am leaving much of the interior work for Maureen but will probably start on some areas where the walls need repainting and some lights need to be installed. I have also to cut off the improvised rear flagstaff and created a new one plus welded crosstrees to the mast for the raising of the ship’s pennants.
So, to bed and to look forward to some varnishing tomorrow - what joy !
Tuesday 3 July
Today is the day of the BIG PARTY. Before I arrived, Frank had arranged with a friend who runs a party boat to provide Van Nelle as the deck for some kind of a buffet, so a whole bunch of things had to be finished in time for the fit out and the arrival of the guests. His friend was arranging the catering so all we had to do was provide the ship and hang around for free food and drinks.
I worked from 7.00am until lunch time (lunch is a variable that often gets either forgotten or put off until 4.00 or 5.00pm), doing some painting and finishing the varnish work on the wheelhouse. Frank had gone off with the Tjalk to put it in the yacht harbour and left me with instructions to start moving the boat to the yard where the caterers would load their equipment. I began the process, starting the main engine and raising the anchor. Once I had done all the serious work and was about to enjoy sailing the boat for a while on my own, Frank appeared. Maybe he was hiding around the corner of the island until the anchor was up - a heavy and sometimes grubby job.
We got under way and soon arrived at the yard where there was just enough room for Van Nelle to slide quietly between the rows of moored pleasure craft to the Tami lift (boat crane) at the end of the pier. Standing on the jetty was a rather large Douwe Egbert coffee trailer, resplendent in its company colours of red, yellow and white. A bunch of nervous looking PR people stood around as the party boat operator, caterer and exhibition manager discussed putting the cart onto Van Nelle. It would have to be winched over the bow onto the coach roof and settled to one side so people could access the service side for coffee, but the mast was in the way.
I had suggested to Frank some days before that the mast was a problem that needed fixing since when lowered it was still higher than the wheel house and would therefore be swiped off at the first low bridge. He now saw the wisdom of my request but try as he might, was unable to do anything about it since he now found that the deck power point was not connected. (This was s stroke of luck for me since it guaranteed it would get fixed, which it did, the next day).
In the end we were able to move the boat sideways a little and edge the caravan past the mast onto the boat. Once secured and when the caterers had loaded tables, benches, food and other assorted boxes, we set off for the island, ‘Markus Pos’. We arrived soon after and began setting up sound equipment, lights, tents, tables and chairs and other items essential for the party. While part way through, the Douwe Egbert’s exhibition contractors called a lunch break and handed out thick soup, broutjes (small rolls with ham, cheese or salami) and drinks. Things were looking pretty good, especially in the personnel department as the girl running the show stripped to a short top and shorts and started moving furniture around.
Pretty soon it was all organised and the crew settled down for some serious beer drinking. It was then that the coincidence of the situation began to be discussed and Dick, the enormous man who runs DE’s exhibitions offered to get their museum to send whatever information they could find about Van Nelle to me at our ‘official’ European address, Maureen’s aunt’s house in Glasgow, Scotland. I hope he follows through.
Van Nelle is a coffee and tobacco company and so is Douwe Egberts. Some time back, the Van Nelle company was bought by Douwe Egberts which in turn was bought by Sarah Lee. So now, here was Van Nelle, the original ship of the coffee and tea company and Douwe Egberts coffee cart, united by happenstance. The situation was explained to the company executive who had come to the island to address the guests, (university graduates the company was out to recruit), and he used it in his speech.
The guests seemed very impressed with Van Nelle but less so with an hour and a half of speeches, some of which were illustrated by expensive looking placards that had so much information on them they could not be read. What made the situation appear more like a "how not to give a presentation" were the actors who were hired as MCs and general people movers who now picked up the placards and wandered through the crowds with them. The graduates looked like they were trying not to laugh at the situation while we hid until it was over.
Presentations, music, great barbecue food and free drinks were supplied with great enthusiasm and the party went on until midnight. The guests boarded their party ship and sailed off as we, the crew, loaded the logistics back onto Van Nelle and headed back to the ship yard. By 1.00am we were free of the gear and the yard and were heading back to the island. My suggestion that their brilliant, huge umbrella with the Douwe Egberts logos would look great permanently attached to Van Nelle went unheeded but some company sweat shirts were presented and then the BIG PARTY was over.
Chapter Two - We own Van Nelle.
Wednesday 4 July
This day is the official transfer date of Van Nelle ! I can’t say it felt all that different from any other day since I was living on the boat and had to all intents and purposes taken delivery of her, but still, there was the reality of it to be considered and savoured. I did get a kick out of it later when just by chance our dear friends Ian and Helen Palmer called from the Red Herring restaurant in Fremantle, Western Australia where they were with Maureen. I had the chance to mention it to Maureen and chat with Ian and Helen quickly about the fact that the dream was very much a reality.
I have not previously explained how we managed the process of the purchase, so perhaps I should do so here. In searching for a suitable barge during the previous two years, I had discovered the recommendation of another buyer in Blue Flag (the Dutch Barge Association’s magazine), of Tony Charman, an English broker. I had contacted him and he had kindly met me in Holland and driven me to a number of potential buys in the year before I came to buy. When I had definite plans to return and buy I had contacted Tony, who was unavailable to come personally as he was moving his office at the time. He recommended his Dutch counterpart - Sander Doeve - and Jitse, the son of Sander, was appointed to assist. Tony had recommended against Van Nelle as he saw a lot of work to be done against a high price. I felt I had negotiated a great deal for the boat I really wanted and so Jitse sprang into action to get the boat transferred into our name.
Sander Doeve, the father and founder of the company that bears his name, is also a notary so they were able to arrange the legal issues in-house and quickly do the searches and transfers on the Netherlands Kadaster - the register of property. They check for mortgages and loans made against the boat, any other registered owners and then transfer the boat to your name/s on the Kadaster. Once done, the boat is yours. Since we were going to continue to register Van Nelle in the Netherlands, it made the use of the Kadaster relevant and made low cost, wide coverage insurance and legal protection available.
I had told Jitse I wanted the transfer to happen within a month and he pulled out all stops and achieved it in a week less. I had made the offer on June 15 and here we were on July 4 with the deal complete.
This day I also finally received the quote for electrical work on the engine. I think they want to get rich on our dwindling resources ! 6,900 guilders plus 19% VAT, and a little clause in the quote that said that any items not specified would be added later - call it 10,000 - 11,000 all up. I balked at that.
The guy who had done the quote had really impressed me with his knowledge and advice and the fact that he also had an old ship and appreciated my desire to keep the look of the old with some new technology to back it up. On the other hand, he assumed he and another tradesman would take up to 45 hours to do the job at 90 guilders an hour plus the 24volt alternator and some wire, it. Seemed a bit on the high side, so I deferred action on that front till I could get a second opinion.
Frank and his father Ben arrived this morning to do the finishing jobs Frank had agreed to. We had negotiated one ‘free day’, after which he would charge me at least 45 guilders per hour plus parts. We headed off to Gamma, the hardware store, to buy the timber required to finish the walls, create a bed in the front cabin and do the skirting boards. Frank’s father Ben was left to start the wiring and the preparatory timber work up front.
I have to give it to Frank, he’s a good carpenter. A bit slap happy, but good and quick. He rounded up a bunch of different sizes and shapes of boards and we headed back to the boat. He then took most of the day to do things on his boat which was moored nearby, while his father did some of the real work on Van Nelle. To be fair, he did arrive at about 3.00pm and built the bed and finished the walls in about 3 hours flat.
Thursday 5 July
Work progressed on the upper hull with preparations for paint work and I also did some little jobs like fixing the navigation lights. On the Big Party night we were traversing the lakes without any lights, something I was not at all happy about but Frank was uninterested in, so I decided to fix the problem myself and had it done without much hassle. I now not only had working nav lights but had also placed the cables through the centre of the mast to the riding and top light, much tidier, and I now knew how they worked.
This process of actually finishing the conversion on Van Nelle was very valuable in that it gave me the opportunity to really get to know the entire workings of the boat - under the skin - that would be invaluable later when maintenance and repairs were required.
The day was filled out with the normal routine of scraping, scraping and more scraping. My hands were now pitted and scarred and stiff as two boards when I woke each morning. Not that I’m complaining mind. While I have my irritations and hours of fairly boring, repetitious manual slog, its not a bad life being out in the fresh air and seeing the results appear before you. Pity I’m not that good at it.
Friday 6 July
This was sort of a hand over day for Frank and myself. We went around the boat as he explained this and that and we checked that it all worked. Frank is an 80% guy. He starts a job but when whatever it is that he is making works - that’s where he loses interest and moves on the next job. Everything is about 80% finished. The bits I am now working on may bring it up to 95% but only a skilled tradesman would really finish it to 100%. My philosophy therefore is to have good tradespeople do the important jobs on engine, electrics, gas etc and for us to do the simple things like scraping, painting, varnishing, decorating etc. Well, some of the other things have to be done and I’m the only one here - but the really important ones......
I am frustrated with the exhaust fan for the bathroom. Frank has supplied one that appears to blow instead of suck, is 220v whereas the bathroom is normally 24v and it is not wired up or supplied with a switch. I started its installation by connecting the cable to the unit, placing the unit on the vent supplied and tracing the cable back to the fuse box. I now have to wire it into the fuse box and install a switch near the 24v light switch and then remember to have the inverter, generator or shore power going when someone takes a shower. There are no other ventilators to the bathroom. This is probably OK when all around you is frozen and you are plugged into shore power but no good for 6 people constantly using the bathroom. A problem to be solved. (Oops - I’m becoming an 80% guy).
Today I began painting the top of the outer hull in a sort of royal blue. I need to use standard paints and standard colours so we can patch up with the same paint when necessary. Any made up colours will invariably not blend in, requiring complete repaint jobs later. Unfortunately I think the standard Epiphane 29 Blue is a bit dark and tends to blend in with the black hull. Perhaps a white stripe would lift it.
I also ordered a steel wire harness to lift the dinghy onto the boat and bought a lifting strap for the scooter. The addition of a 300kg breaking strain stainless wire for the winch will bring it all up to a safe level for swinging these heavy, precious items aboard.
Frank departed the island Markus Pos where we had been for some days to take up his position in the jachtharbour Vuuturen (Lighthouse). That left me finally on my own. I now will definitely get to know the machinery and other operating systems. It leaves me however with a dearth of tools since I have been relying on Frank’s extensive range of power and manual equipment, huge store of nails, screws, wiring, sharpeners, files etc. His Tjalk is a carpentry shop and warehouse.
I weakened and went to Gamma for some basics like screwdrivers, pliers, a shifting spanner and a two handed Black and Decker drill with bits and screw heads. This and the ‘nipple ripper’ is to be my great labour saving device.
The ‘nipple ripper’ I have named because of it’s appearance and it’s use. This is a double wheel of a sort of hardened rubber, impregnated with metal nipple like extensions around both circumferences. It has a central axle which fits into a normal electric drill, thereby rotating the wheels at a frenzied pace, allowing the nipples to rip away old tar, paint, rust and other materials foreign to and coating the underlying steel. It really works well and makes cleaning areas of rust a breeze - but noisy - more like a howling wind.
A German guy and his nephew had arrived on a 28 foot yacht during the day and we had chatted a couple of times, so at the end of the day I invited them aboard for an inspections and a drink. He accepted and brought a very pleasant German beer along for me to try, said very encouraging things about the boat and explained that he had been coming to Loosdrecht for 32 years since he had bought his first boat here back then. He worked for Bayer, selling pesticides and importing chemical components until recently. I gathered he was not all that happy about being unemployed but he was certainly old enough to retire.
A plate of pasta with some French red wine and eight e-mails waiting. Looked good until I opened the mail - mostly business about the boat. Bah.
When Frank took the Tjalk away he overlooked taking Frodo the cat who was onshore at the time, hiding out from the terrors of the generator engine, which he hates. So, at 11.00pm, just after going to bed, I heard the meowing of a very hungry and frustrated cat. I guess he had discovered that the boat had gone, waited until nightfall and then decided that living in the wild was for the birds and every self respecting cat needed a home.
I got up and allowed him in, gave him a meal and some milk and instructed him that the wheelhouse was as far as he could go, and went to bed.
Saturday 7 July
No Frodo. Oh well, probably off in the wilds of the island.
It rained. I decided to go to Hilversum since I couldn’t do any painting. I had two pairs of broken glasses that I hoped could be repaired and a few other things that you can only do in a town bigger than Loosdrecht. The trip on the scooter takes about 15 minutes and is quite pleasant since the bike path takes you through farm areas before entering the industrial part of the town. Hilversum is the video and TV production centre of Holland so there are many production companies and service companies here.
I was breaking glasses (spectacles that is) since I was wearing them around my neck in order to have them handy. Unfortunately this also makes them likely to get caught on protruding objects as you work and as you stretch up, presto, a pair of broken glasses. Later I found the cheap $25 specs that are just magnifying glasses that are just fine for general work and retired my expensive prescription sets to reading and computer work.
I found a willing optician who would fix the glasses into new frames in the next one and a half hours so I had some time to kill and spent it window shopping for beds, refrigerators and so on. It seems that everything closes down here in three weeks for the summer holidays, so if you don’t get items ordered and delivered now you could wait up to 10 weeks ! Beds and mattresses are OK price wise but getting the right sizes in the right types is the trick as they come in a range of sizes and I was not sure that 80% Frank had made the beds to standard sizes. I did not want to have to have mattresses specially made !.
Sometime after arriving back on board Frank passed by for a chat. I mentioned the cat. "No problems" said Frank, "I called by at 11.30pm last night. Frodo recognised the outboard motor noise, raced out to meet me and I took him away". Great. I am finally free of Frodo the mouse delivery cat.
Sunday 8 July
More rain, so more inside jobs.
I started work on the bathroom door since it does not shut properly - just 80%. Not having a power sander I took the scraper and sand paper to the door jam. Made a nice mess and absolutely no difference to the door closing efficiently. That looks like a job for the first mate !
Today I discovered a whole array of old machinery in the store area behind the wheel house. Obviously Frank, generous to a fault, had decided that Van Nelle could use it far more readily than the Tjalk. Pity he didn’t ask me what I thought. There are big bins on the island that are emptied almost every day - great place for a half tonne of unusable generators, pumps, valves and twisted steel.
Frank had done some welding for me, fixing the mast so it lowered completely, but in doing so had disconnected the battery monitor metre and it had reset itself for 12v power. I now had to discover how it worked and reset it to 24v so it accurately told me the state of the battery bank. The instructions were (I think) translated out of American to Dutch and then back into English in Holland. The text was somewhat tortured but after experimenting with the equipment I think I got it right. I then had to charge the batteries to capacity in order for the metre to calibrate itself. I ran the generator 4 hours Sunday, three on Monday morning and another three on Monday night before it flashed the signal that all had been accomplished. I hope I set it right !
This piece of equipment was key to trouble free cruising as we had to provide our own power for essential equipment such as refrigerators, fresh water pumps and lights and other nice to have equipment such as the stereo and computer. The battery monitor told us how much power we had in the batteries, how much we were using and how long we had left before recharging was necessary.
We generate 220v power using a 9kVa diesel generator situated in the engine room, running it two hours morning and evening or at times when using the washing machine and dryer or power tools. This also stores 24v power in the battery banks which in turn is inverted to 220v power when the boat is not connected to shore power or running the generator. Our final configuration of 4 large 12v batteries gave us up to two days electricity without recharging.
Monday 9 July
I have received news that the container will arrive in Rotterdam on the 31st. The local shipping company sent me a whole bunch of forms by e-mail to fill in and attach to official local council forms showing I was registered as a new immigrant, had a job and an address. This would exempt us from paying the customs duty of up to 32%. What customs duty of 32%.......???????
This was now the disaster I had been waiting for since everything had been going so smoothly.
Off I went to the local council to see if they would register me. Not if I was on a boat and intending to travel. What if I intended to stay ? But you don’t intend to stay, you have told us that ! Catch 22.
I put a call into the shipping company. How much are we likely to be up for ? They didn’t know. Why not ? It depends on which items you have to pay duty on and what rate the customs people decide to charge. And so on. What is the worst case I finally asked and they told me they would consult their associates and get back to me.
Some time later they came up with a number that was 32% of the declared value of the whole shipment. I could have done that. The advice now is to supply a copy of the inventory with very low but believable values so the amount will be as low as possible. More work that we were not made aware of when employing Grace Brothers removalists in Australia to ship the goods.
At this stage I was still moored to the wooden jetty at the island Marcus Pos. This was convenient as the little island is not regularly used except during the summer holidays which had not yet started and it gave me a solid, stable platform to work on the outside of the ship’s hull.
Yesterday I had been able to complete one side of the ship’s royal blue topside paintwork and the white stripe down the side. The job is a bit rough because it is going over 90 year old, somewhat careworn iron and the number 29 royal blue hasn’t faded in the thin sunlight (which does appear briefly between cloudy or rainy skies) but over all, it looks pretty good. Now for the other side. For this I have to turn the ship around 180 degrees.
Start engine, undo lines, there’s a fair breeze blowing so take care not to lose control of the ship as the wind takes it. There is also a pole near the bow on the outside of the boat which I have to reverse to miss. Watch I don’t crush the dinghy or demolish the jetty, a bit forward, a bit back. Van Nelle slowly, majestically swings 180 in her own length with me controlling it all from the wheelhouse. My first single handed manoeuvre ! Reattach the lines and we are secure again, snug against the jetty. Now to paint the second side. I started up the nipple ripper and immediately drew the ire of an old gentleman who had just arrived on his 22' yacht. He glared at me and I tried to ignore him. He moved closed while his mouth looked like he was trying to say something, which it did eventually - in Dutch of course.
"I’m Australian" I said "I don’t understand. I’m sorry if the noise is disturbing you but I will only be 10 minutes or so".
"This is for recreatie, iss not a yard for shipverk. I call police". He replied in quite good English.
"Please do as you wish but I have arranged for this work with the harbour master and I will be only about 10-15 minutes".
At that he stomped off to his boat and I continued the howling, ripping, dust storm provoking, rust removal. True to my word I took about 12 minutes to complete the job (about 80%) and cleaned up then began to apply rust preventing paint. While doing this I felt a presence behind me. I stole a glance under my armpit (crouched as I was daubing paint at a low level) and there was the old gent. A minute or two later and a gentle prod and his finger pointed to a place I had missed. I apologised for the noise and we began a dialogue that lasted over the next two days. I invited him to look over the boat.
"Iss permissed ?"
"Of course, please help yourself".
He climbed slowly onto Van Nelle and disappeared inside as I continued painting. Some time later he re-appeared and chatted about what a great ship it was and how perfect for discovering France - especially with such a big bed. I got the feeling he had some pleasure in lands south of Holland.
He advised me that he had bought a steamer when he was 59 (he was now 72), in order to travel through Europe, but before he could get away from his work he had a heart attack. The ship had to go and he had to stay. As he stood there looking blankly out at the lakes I could see that he was already driving the ship away to adventures with the big double bed.
He spent two days on the island Markus Pos and sailed away as he had arrived, quietly, dressed immaculately in jacket and tie.
During the day the ’pirate’ had arrived. A rather wild looking fellow with grubby clothes and an explosion of bottle blond hair. His ship was similar in appearance to himself. An old 60', timber, power cruiser that had seen very much better times. The ‘pirate’ said the boat was very glad to have met him since when he took it over it was a wreck. To my eyes, nothing had changed. Since I was working just across a narrow jetty from him he set to as well. He chiselled and hammered and pottered about, trying occasionally to get his equally wild looking cat to get out of Van Nelle as he joked that he had trained it to steal but the damn cat would only steal food, not video cameras or Rolex watches. I began to worry about my video camera and watch.
Night fell and the pirate and his very South American girlfriend (he had told me earlier that he owned a barge in Argentina that was used for tourists) left in their rubber ducky for the delights of Loosdrecht. I went to bed at 11.00 and at 11.30 heard them return. Then began the concert.
The pirate would have been able to hold rock concerts on his boat since his stereo sound equipment would have powered a heavy metal band. Reggae at 11.30 until 1.30 or so. No chance of sleep as I was only some 4 metres from the sound source. What was really irritating however was that he would allow the song of the moment to get about half way through before stopping it abruptly and starting a new one. When he got tired of reggae his girlfriend (I assume) went for the South American love songs. I wondered what another old gent who had arrived earlier in his neat sailing boat tied up just in front of the pirate felt about that sound source.
Tuesday 10 July
The harbour master had visited the day before and since he spoke no English we had an interesting time getting through the rules, the key one being that you cannot spend more than 3 consecutive days attached to the island. Van Nelle had been there for more than a week, so he had been very patient but had to be seen to be doing his job. I had negotiated that I would leave today when I finished the painting and so I set to on the other side and on the coach roof which was scarred by Frank’s steel detritus. Of course I had to A) run out of paint and B) get more rain - but by the end of the day it was done and it was time to leave.
Some time earlier in the day a small boat had arrived with a 30ish couple and their 13 year old daughter. The fellow was pretty chatty and since he had moored where the Pirate had been, directly opposite me, I had spent the afternoon chatting and answering his questions. He was interested in Van Nelle and since he was on a small boat with two women, in need of a bit of male company. I invited him to come for the ride out to the place I had selected to anchor and he jumped at the chance.
We set off, cautiously departing the jetty and looping around to come head to wind in the lee of the island. Gales and rain were forecast but had not yet arrived although it was looking threatening so it proved time to move. Of course, as soon as you decide to take action requiring outside work the rain comes and it did on this occasion. Into the bargain I threw the anchor out to secure Van Nelle in the lee of the island and found it was hopelessly twisted inside the chain locker. That required the need to run back and forward from the wheelhouse to the bow to alternatively put pressure on and take pressure off the anchor in order to release the chain and give it a chance to straighten out. That was a half hour of exciting physical work with an element of danger from the winch, a heavy chain and a heavier boat.
We, Sebastian and I, completed the manoeuvre safely and retired to the wheelhouse for a well earned drink. A few restorative beers later we agreed to meet after dinner for a glass of wine before retiring and I took Sebastian back to Ellen (his partner not wife) and her daughter Michelle.
Sebastian had an interesting history. He told me his father had died when a drunk driver hit him on one of the local roads. Sebastian was six at the time and his mother later took up with another man who had ‘loose hands’. This it transpired means he couldn’t keep from using them to beat Sebastian’s mother. As a kid, he said, he took the beatings he received but told the man that he would return the favour when he grew older. He studied martial arts and gained strength and when seventeen, arrived home one night to find his mother with a cut head requiring 16 stitches. Sebastian took up his hockey stick and sent his step father to hospital in a critical condition. He asked his mother to get rid of the man but she was scared he would come back to beat her up so Sebastian gave him the option. Stay and die at his hands or leave and never return. He apparently took the latter. Shortly after, Sebastian left for Germany, Italy, Spain, France and England, working as a DJ, bouncer and finally a pub owner in Luxembourg.
His Irish / Dutch pub went well but Sebastian thought all the income was his to spend and when the tax man caught up with him he lost the lot. Again he went out to work for others and bought a computer. He learned quickly, became interested in the internet and now has a small company making and maintaining web sites for the Amsterdam sex market and one stock market company.
Ellen, his partner, is a nurse who is recovering from her sixth operation to remove cysts that grow to the size of grapefruit. The last operation removed the latest cysts and the rest of her womb with it.
They are a happy couple that obviously like each other a lot. They share their three room apartment, and on this holiday, Sebastian’s aunt’s boat, with a lively Australian sheep dog. We made arrangements for a barbecue on Van Nelle for Wednesday night if the weather was suitable.
Wednesday 11 July - a month since I left Australia. (My, how time flies).
I woke this morning to a full force 6 or 7 gale (40-60 knots - 70-100kmh) with rain squalls and occasional heavier fronts battering through the lakes of Loosdrecht. White topped wavelets are racing down towards me from the expanse of water to the south west and causing Van Nelle to roll gently when swinging from side to side.
Unfortunately, the area I chose to anchor is not fully in the lee of Markus Pos island, just slightly to one side of it, but since there are reed banks 50 metres to my port side I could not tuck further under. Everything is holding securely so far and I have taken the day to catch up with this journal.
I’ve just been out on deck, over which the wind is whipping at what must be over 40 knots. This is like one of those winter gales off Fremantle. All grey seas and skies, white tops blowing forward of the waves and rain sheeting down from time to time. It is the kind of weather that invites a fire and a view of the sea, a long roast lamb lunch with a good old shiraz and a warm body to cuddle up with. No such luck here unfortunately, just close the ports and doors, a few nervous glances from time to time at the position of the boat in relation to the island, a 2.50 guilder Argentinean white wine with week old pasta and a hefty pillow (kussen in Dutch) to lie a-bed with later.
Just had a call from Jitse Doeve, our boat broker, to say he had received the second power of attorney document from Maureen - they lost the last one in the post - so he can proceed with the final arrangements. Also had a call from the shipping agent to clarify if we were planning to stay 6 months (in which case a temporary clearance would be possible with no import duty) or 5 years (in which case the tax has to be paid). At least there are some people on our side. Unfortunately this option seems to have been started from more misinformation from Grace Brothers the removalists in Australia.
So now it’s 3.00 in the afternoon and I am wondering when this storm will abate. It’s been blowing now for at least 12 hours.
Today I have also arranged for two mattresses, one for the front cabin and one for our cabin. They can be delivered on Saturday week or the following Tuesday. If I don’t order them now and pay by Friday I will have to wait for up to 10 weeks. Not a good option. At this time I am going to leave the third bedroom vacant to save funds and give Maureen some decisions to make. I had better make her a list of things to do - that shouldn’t be hard - there are plenty of them.
At least this really strong wind and rain have shown me where the little leaks are - they all seem to be around the forward facing kitchen skylights that have no rubber seal around the rim. Another thing for the shopping list for Gamma, the hardware warehouse. Will the shopping ever end ?
Thursday 12 July
Today I discovered engine coolant in the sump as I did a regular engine check. This is not good news, indeed it could be a disaster as coolant in the sump normally means leaks around the cylinder liners in the engine. We had a similar problem in our boat in Australia which necessitated removing the engine, stripping it down completely, applying new O rings to the top and bottom of each cylinder and rebuilding and re-installing the engine. This is a huge task and expensive.
I called Jitse to ensure the broker is aware and that any actions now regarding this catastrophe are with his knowledge. I then called Frank who arranged to come over with a sump pump to pump out the oil to check for contamination. That would have to wait till tomorrow.
I picked up the harness I had designed and ordered from Vrijheid, the best boat supply shop in Loosdrecht. It worked very well despite the low ratio on the hand winch and the number of turns required to raise the jolly boat (as the Dutch call a dinghy) onto the deck.
Friday 13 July
Frank arrived and we pumped out about a litre of green coolant and then some oil. Once that was done, the oil, which had disappeared completely from the dip stick, re-appeared. Frank recounted that the previous owner had reportedly rebuilt the engine but had then discovered he had a very small coolant leak but was not able to trace it. Frank is under the impression that this is a build up of four years of operating but I am waiting for a technician to inspect the engine to be convinced. Jan, the local motor tech is apparently going to do a house call next week. We will see.
We also discovered that external cooling water was not getting through to the engine easily at low revs. We took the screen out of the main engine water filter and found it almost completely blocked. It took me 20 minutes with a wire brush to clean it off. Replaced, the water rushed through and the rather heated engine of the past was reduced again to a very cool 40-50 degrees indicated.
For the rest of the day I managed to contain my anxiety regarding the main engine - our only motive power - and do, guess what, more scraping and painting!
Saturday 14 July
Among the regular round of chipping, scraping and painting, today I decided to take the ship for a run around the lakes to test the engine and have a break, and to do what I am here to do, have fun in the boat. Van Nelle and I travelled happily for a couple of hours touring the edges of the five interlocked lakes and checking out the route to freedom - the entrance to the Vecht (almost impossible to find without knowledge) to the Nieuwsluis canal to the Amsterdam Rhinecanal. Several checks of the engine ensured that all was working fine so far. I celebrated this evening with a trip into Loosdrecht for spare ribs and Californian Chardonnay - V. Good.
Sunday 15 July
Having been away from the island for a few days I figured it was safe to go back to do some more painting with the aid of the jetty that I tie Van Nelle up to. The relocation completed I actually got a fair bit done but I despair at my impatience and lack of skill on the end of a paintbrush. Wiggly lines point to me becoming 80% Jay. Every part I paint will require going back to tidy up the edges - Oh well, something to do for the next 10 years.
I had a bit of a panic today as the generator shut down soon after I started it. Over temp read out and no water being exhausted. A call to Frank to confirm that it was probably a shredded impellor, the little rubber part that pushes water through the cooling water pump. Fortunately Jan, the local engine man, was working and had the required impellor for the pump. What a performance to get to the impellor installed in the pump however.
The pump is on the hull side of an enclosed generator which cannot be moved. The panels come off on top and front and back but you cannot get your hand in the back and getting in through the front or top gives very little room for movement and almost no line of sight. Having worked on this kind of pump before I knew that if I dropped a screw the pump would be useless until the screw was replaced. We had a Jabsco version of the pump on Tension Cutter (two in fact) and I had replaced impellors on a number of occasions when they wore out, but this was a real stinker. It took an hour to take the face plate off the pump without losing any of the 6 screws. Fortunately the impellor came out quite easily and I made sure I noticed which way it rotated as getting that wrong can mean having to redo the job.
The new impellor was not so willing to go in since it was in pristine condition unlike its limp predecessor. After worrying it for some time and with the careful use of objects such as a screwdriver to assist, it finally slid onto its shaft in the right configuration. No mean feat since it was liberally coated with detergent to allow it to work initially without water since there was no way I could prime the pump in its position. Now to get the plate and screws back on.
It was about that time that the local water-ski school decided that Van Nelle was an excellent object to circumnavigate and did so incessantly, creating a wash that rocked the boat, sometimes quite violently. This is not the best condition to work in when attempting something as difficult as brain surgery on a difficult pump with no vision, greasy hands and tiny screws. It took forever but one by one they went back in and finally, with the help of a short screwdriver I borrowed from Frank, it was all back together and ready to try. I primed the line from the filter to the waterline with the hull water cock shut and went to the ‘office’ to start the engine. This procedure required starting the engine from the remote panel then dashing up on deck and down into the engine room to open the shut off valve to allow water into the system. Fortunately that worked, I made it before the impellor shredded again and water happily spat out rhythmically to the beat of the little Yanmar engine. Power was again at my disposal.
I had mentioned to Frank while we were with Jan at the marina office and workshop that a non return valve would solve the problem and he was quite mystified when Jan produced one for me to fit. I did that the next day when I was able to get the parts I needed from the chandler Vrijheid to fit the existing inlet valve and water pipe. Apparently non return valves were outside Franks sphere of knowledge - one up on him then !
Monday 16 July
I woke this morning to quiet and one of the most beautiful vistas surrounding the boat. Still, slightly misty water and reflected images of the shore line clearly visible all round. I took some digital stills (I thought) with the video camera, only to discover later that this model, despite having the picture button which makes impressive shutter noises and actions in the view finder, apparently does not have still picture capability - Bugger!
Today I decided to ask Wetterwille Jachthaven if I could come in to the very restricted space of the marina to fill the water tanks. This would give me a rehearsal for the day the container arrived which I had already had them agree to. They readily agreed to let me come in and tie up to another barge on the end of a jetty. It was such a beautiful still day that this somewhat nervous skipper, on his own, actually made a masterful job of coming into the harbour, manoeuvring almost sideways up to the other boat and snugging up without scratching a millimetre of paint.
I then spent 2 ½ hours watching and listening to water refill the tanks, 150 litres at a time, driven by 1 guilder tokens for each 150 litre allowance. I thought 12 ought to be enough, after all, if their gauge was accurate that would be 1800 litres. In the end it took 15 tokens before a rush of water escaped inside the boat from the transparent sight tube used to keep a check on the level. That required a quick mop up and another drying session for some dampened clothes on racks near the sight tube.
I decided I had enough excitement for one day and after taking Van Nelle back to its anchorage about 150 metres off the shoreline, I took out the maps I have of Holland and the north of France to start working out how to get out of here. A very pleasant break from the monotony of scraping and painting.
I felt a bit guilty not doing a solid 10 hours manual labour today so I worked out a to do list for Tuesday.
Tuesday 17 July
On my list were a number of phone calls. First to the import company to find out what progress they had made with our container and the duty issue. Practically none and they did not sound very helpful about ways to reduce or eliminate the payment of import duty. The way it works they explained was that Customs take the value of the goods - say $A 6,000 (if they believe your values) and charge 12% - that’s $ 720. They then add the 720 to the 6000 and charge 19% VAT - that’s 1277 plus the 720 - that’s about $ 2,000 times 1.3 for conversion to guilders - presto 2,600 guilders. Not a bad day’s work for nothing on used goods that are not even staying in the country. At their lowest rate of 6% the figure is just under 2,000. Bugger !
Second call was to Mynheer Post of Brouwer’s Shipyard. I had decided not to take Van Nelle back there for the electrical work since a local named Johan who Frank had introduced to me had offered to do the engine work here. Jan from the Jachthaven had also agreed to supply and install the new Bosch 80 Amp, 24v alternator, the second part of the electrical requirements. So I explained to Mijnheer Brouwer that the quote they had provided was far too much and that I would later come down to pick up the double gas cylinder enclosure I had already paid for. He agreed - reluctantly.
Third call was to Frank to see if he could arrange for Van Nelle to be in his Jachthaven for the installation of the alternator and engine check by Jan. ‘No deal’ he insisted, the yard manager’s mother had just died and now was not a good time to ask.
I decided to go to Hilversum to buy a pillow for Maureen (who was about to arrive), arrange a hire car to pick her up and to get citronella to dispel the mosquitoes, since none was available locally. I did all these things as well as calling in to see Jan on both the outward and return journey. No Jan. There were people in the yard office however and they agreed immediately to let the ship in for the work. So much for Frank’s help. I will take her in on Thursday.
I then set to work on the aft deck and the scuppers. I cleaned the rust and old paint from under the rails along both sides of the deck and treated the areas with rust preventer. I cleaned the back deck, moving everything (mostly Frank-junk) to the bow and then wrestled with stupid piddling little paint rollers that were hopelessly inadequate for the task, ending up on my knees painting the very pitted and uneven back deck in its new colour, just off white. (It looks good and it will be cool underfoot but may also show dirt very quickly and may be slippery). I then painted the scuppers with black tar-like paint obtained for the job from Mynheer Post at Brouwer’s. All in all a pretty good day.
I also received some e-mails including one from son Sean, now in a much needed job working for Michael - bless his heart - Kiernan, a friend with a big mining business in Australia. There was another from Helen Jordan who, with her family, are on their barge Mea Vota on their return trip from the Midi to St Jean de Losne where the ship will be laid up for 10 months as they return to Canada to their real lives. Helen had shared the highs and lows of the Barge Handling and PP courses in Cambrai the year before when part way through a year on their barge with their kids. I suspect a few tears will be shed on their departure from France back to Canada.
Wednesday 18 July
Rain - HEAVY RAIN. If I thought I had seen it rain here I had only experienced the overture. This was the real thing and caused me to quickly tour the boat to close windows, ports and skylights to quell the drips. Van Nelle has proven to be a dry ship under the most drenching conditions except for a couple of spots where a rubber liner will sort out the problem - and there it’s only drips. ( As I write this on Wednesday night, the deluge has started again).
Jitse Doeve came by in a small tugboat he was doing sea trials on for a prospective buyer. I had recently given him an earful about getting the ownership details finished and delivering the papers (which he wanted to mail or for me to pick up), so this was a perfect way for him to combine delivery with face saving all round. We had coffee on a really atrocious morning and he and the other two men with him went off again into the rain.
I decided that there was no chance of painting or a trip to town (it was blowing a fierce 20-30knots (40-60kmh) and the waves were big enough to toss Little Nellie (the name I am trying out for the dinghy - suggestions gratefully received) around with me in it. I decided therefore to install some lights (three done perfectly thank you) and again go back to the maps whilst trying to decipher some of the Dutch Almanac - one word at a time from the dictionary. The Almanac is the Dutch maritime bible and must be known if questioned by the authorities. It is in two volumes and contains all the rules required for safe boating plus timetables for locks and bridges and navigation information.
The more you see Dutch in written form the more words become understandable but not enough so far to understand more than a phrase let alone a sentence.
Only 3 days ago I bought 80 guilders worth of phone cards which topped my account up to 111. Today my check revealed only 26 left - where does it go ??? We have to find a less expensive communications channel.
This Saturday and Sunday see two days of festival in Loosdrecht - street theatre, Roaring 20s music and markets - could be fun. Saturday is also the day the mattresses are being delivered but Jachthaven Wetterwille has agreed to store them until I can pick them up.
Thursday 19 July
More rain today but despite the weather I decided to move the ship to de Drektakker, a yacht marina some distance away where the boat was located when I first saw it and where Frank has his Tjalk. This means I am closer the source of tools, advice and bits and pieces - all of which Frank has on his boat.
Jan, the engineer, came by at 1.00pm to install the alternator. We needed to make a new bracket for it so after issuing instructions he left. I made my way to Frank’s boat to make up the parts for him to weld into place. Fortunately the arm that is used to tension the fan belt fitted the new set up perfectly and so some time was saved. I could not finish the job until I bought a few minor but significant electrical bits that will have to wait till tomorrow.
I had ordered professionally made name transfers of ‘Van Nelle’ and ‘Loosdrecht’ from the local sign writer to apply to each side of the bow and on the stern over the new paintwork. The names for the ship arrived at the yacht shop Vrijheid so I picked them up while getting some bits and pieces needed to finish the starter and alternator installations. Unfortunately I ordered the names in a type style that came out much too small. Ah well, another set to be ordered tomorrow before the sign man goes on summer holidays for three weeks.
I also bought a switch panel for the wheelhouse electrics and took fright when I looked at the underneath where it is all wired up waiting for connection to gauges, lights and radios etc. Another challenge - electrical installations. Fortunately I have Johan coming to do the main engine electrics soon and can call on his expertise to assist. He is an electrical engineer with a local television production company but spends his spare time messing about on old boats. Very useful chap I hope.
Friday 20 July
Another soggy day but a good one for doing electrical work inside. I also arranged for the mattresses to be delivered today to the marina which made the job a lot easier for the bed shop and me, since Saturday is festival day and parking will be prohibited in town.
I caught up with Jan who inspected the work on the alternator, made a couple of small adjustments and declared it ready to run. I turned the motor over and all the things Jan expected apparently happened so he declared it done. Now off to the bank to pay the man his 900 guilders for the alternator and labour. So far this is working out much less expensively than if I had gone to Brouwer’s yard.
The rest of the day was spent deciphering how the switch panel worked and therefore had to be installed, doing the necessary carpentry and wiring to fit and testing the result. Everything worked except the navigation lights, a series of red, green, and white lights situated around the boat. I tried different combinations but no luck, I then decided to check them one by one to find out which was upsetting the rest. They all worked individually so I connected them back together and presto - they all worked. I have no idea - its all abracadabra to me. I have to confess to being just a bit proud that I was able to make the installation and have it work - another one to me !
Saturday 21 July
A dismal day for a festival with rain and cold prevailing - still, it doesn’t start till 6.00pm so maybe things will come good in time.
Today I worked under instruction from Frank to fabricate the pieces of steel that will make up a bracket for another two batteries. First do the measurements and plan, then select and cut the steel to size, with 45degree angles, ensure it all fits together and leave it to Frank for the welding - I’m not up to that yet.
Metal work completed it was time to spruce myself up for a night in town with some of the usual suspects from the Heineke Hotel. These include a bunch of guys and girls who live in town and are generous enough to allow me to hang around on party nights for some company. They are also kind enough to use English most of the time.
The festival is basically a series of market stalls along the main street - well the only street really - with music in various places and bars and restaurants open along the strip. We plan to look until eight then go back to Heineke for dinner. All great plans ..... The others decided to have a few drinks first so the tour didn’t start till seven and a bit. By 8.00 we were less than half way so a quick rethink had the table booking altered to 8.30. We eventually got back to the hotel a bit before 9.00 and I could have ripped the legs off the tables and eaten them. However, a pleasant meal and then another sortie to check out the music - disappointing. The main stage had pre-recorded backing tracks for a series of pretty lack lustre acts - male singers - one with a couple of go-go dancers to liven up the event. Boring - even the boot scooters were more interesting. However, Sunday is another day - if the rain holds off as it did during the street festival.
Sunday 22 July
What unbelievable luck - a sunny day ! Things are looking good for the day’s outing. We planned to take in the sights on the water on Van Nelle as the day consists of a series of locations where vouchers in a program allow you to taste wine and cheese or participate in silly games and competitions at different moorings around the lake. There is also jazz to be found at the Niewersluis, a pretty, almost semi-circular lock on the Vecht, the canal that leads to the Amsterdam - Rhine canal.
All aboard at the local marina and we made it to the first stop where we tasted a couple of indifferent wines and some good brie, then continued cruising on to the Niewersluis. By the time we got close there was a kilometre long queue of boats waiting to get through. That, according to others in their boats in the queue apparently required a two hour wait. We reversed along the canal to an appropriate spot, tied Van Nelle up and hitched a ride to the lock on a passing ski boat.
This is what it is all about. A sunny day, good jazz, a passing parade of boats and people to gawk at and some good drinks plus the odd smoked eel to nibble on. Jacques, Anke, Corry and I had a lovely afternoon in the sun watching the TV personalities parade around, completely upstaged by the mad lock keeper.
The Niewersluis lock keeper is famous. A real personality, he was wearing a pair of over size shorts held up by braces that featured naked women, a shirt featuring 40s female film stars in underwear, one red and one green sock and a little straw hat. He had, for company, a couple of mannequins dressed in suits that were positioned to oversee the operations of the lock. He earned his money today with an unending stream of boats in both directions. It took about two hours for the boats we were with in the queue to appear and get through.
We finished the day with a barbecue on shore after our return to the lake and wove off to bed - me hurtling down the dark road on the new and trusty scooter.
Monday 23 July
Cloudy but dry - a good day to paint the decks grey.
I have to admit to being a bit worse for wear this morning so I decided I would do mindless things like going to Gamma for switches, Berepoot for a fan belt and Morpheus for some mattress covers. Being Monday most of the shops are shut or do not open until 1.00pm. I got the first two errands done and headed back to VN to fit the switches and locate a spare power line Frank had laid in the bathroom to connect the bathroom exhaust fan. Good work for a hang over.
Mission accomplished. I now have an exhaust fan that works, a spare wire located and ready to attach to a light, a couple of appropriate mattress covers and a dubious fan belt - I think the lad in the shop measured the outside rather that the inside of the fan belt - ah well - another thing to exchange later.
I checked up on Frank and the welding. Nothing done as he was a bit slow this morning as well and was off to the funeral of the mother of the marina manager. By 5.00pm I had decided it was time to paint the decks grey. (It should be remembered here that the days in this part of the world start at about 4.30am and end about 10.30pm with the passage of the summer sun). An hour later I was about 1 square metre short of paint and Vrijheid had just closed - oh well, I can finish it tomorrow before I go to Hilversum to pick up a hire car I had booked and get the things only a station wagon will carry.
Only one more day to wait for the arrival of the ship’s real captain - Maureen.
Tuesday 24 July
Very good weather today - sunny, light breezes and no sign of nasty fronts on the way in. Perhaps this is in preparation of Maureen’s arrival. It would be just right for her to arrive into blazing sunshine after I had been describing how bad the weather is here. Credibility zero.
Today I have to pick up the hire car, actually a station wagon, and do some shopping for heavy, bulky objects like the outdoor chairs. They are on special at Gamma for about ten guilders each. I’ll buy six and who cares if they break.
A scooter trip into Hilversum through the meadows, bordered by narrow canals in which the locals float about aimlessly or dash from one end to the other and then return in the same haste. I travel down the cycle / scooter path next to the main roads. The Dutch have developed a good system with their small roads accompanied by bicycle paths and main roads having wider integrated or separated bicycle / scooter tracks.
After securing the scooter in the hire car agency garage I did a bit of shopping. I needed a haircut and I wanted to make additional inquiries about refrigerators, vacuum cleaners, carpets and so on. I soon discovered that a haircut was out of the question unless I wanted to make an appointment for the next day. Oh well, I’ll just have to use the kitchen scissors.
After hiking to a couple of white goods shops in town I have however now found a frig of the right size that is an A performer in the energy efficiency stakes. It is a Bosch, and the price is 700 guilders. With two extra batteries for the ship to provide sufficient power at a cost of 750 guilders, total cost is about 1500 - about the amount I suspect Frank would want for his old 24volt model I am borrowing and about 1500 less than a new 24v model. All my inquiries had suggested a normal household frig would use only an extra 1-2 amps per hour energy consumption, a figure well covered by the extra batteries and we would get extra power on top for other requirements.
I spent the afternoon shopping and squeezing bulky objects into the Mitsubishi Spacewagon I had hired at the rental agency. Really comfortable and very spacious but still economical. Being at Jachthaven de Drektakker is also a boon as I can load the items onto their barrows to go straight out the dock and onto the boat.
Wednesday 25 July
Again great weather - so that’s my cover story about being tied to the boat shot to pieces - but it’s a good day for an arrival. I had been worried about fog diverting the flight to another European capital as it was as thick as pea soup a couple of days earlier, but this day it lifted quickly as I drove to Schipol airport at 6.00am.
I arrived at 6.40 and parked exactly where I thought I could, right outside departure gate 1, just above the arrivals area but unfortunately at the opposite end of the terminal. Now the quandary, do I stay with the car or go to the arrivals hall to try to intercept Maureen. I decided to try arrivals. Of course it was pandemonium down there with a large number of people spilling into the area from multiple early arrivals plus all the visitors there to greet loved ones. Plan B - go out to the exit area upstairs which is the most likely route someone would take if looking for the departure area.
Bingo - got her in one. A stray figure anxiously scanning the car park area with her back to me.
"Can I be of assistance madam ?" - in a heavy Indian accent from me.
A slightly annoyed look over the shoulder as if to say "Piss off, I can look after myself thank you" which quickly turned to relief and then joy at being met. After the inevitable greetings and the odd tear it was off to the car and Plan A for the day - Amsterdam for charts and a look around.
Now it was back to my hit and miss navigation system. Follow the A2 to Amsterdam then the elephant signs that direct you to the zoo, turn right for the central station and then left into the little car park. Pretty good - just one wrong turn that took us through the bus park in front of Centraal Station, through an amazed crowd of commuters and tourists and back onto the main road towards the car park. It’s a good thing that there are no Politie (police) about while I am driving here - I would be in jail.
By the time we parked it was only about 8.00am so off to coffee through the red light district - not much action at this time of the day but a few shops open with their thousands of videos and improbable looking ‘toys’ and lots of signs for pot and ecstasy. A continental breakfast on the main street, purchase of a tourist map and a decision to go to the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam’s answer to the Louvre. We took the No2 tram and got off a stop after the museum since we were past it before we decided it was indeed our target. On arrival at the front door we found the opening times for the day were at 10.00am which would leave little time for looking as the car park voucher was only good until 11.00 and fines in Amsterdam are very expensive. Back onto the No2 tram and back to Centraal for a quick walk to the chart shop.
We were the major customers for the month I suspect when we bought nearly 1,000 guilders worth of charts of Holland, Belgium and France. Better now that not at all. We carted the goods back to the car and set of for Utrecht to Ikea for additional furniture.
I had sussed out chairs and other necessary items so it was a quick visit that turned long as we added things to the list like a table for the wheelhouse. Ikea can be good for putting bits and pieces together, the problem is that after you buy the stuff you have to put the bits and pieces together and some end up looking very strange, especially with Dutch instructions. We found all the things we needed and actually managed to fit them in the car. Time to head back to the ship.
I had to giggle when Maureen decided she had to take the dinghy ashore to the shops and on departure banged all the way down one side of Van Nelle and up the other, ignoring my instructions on how to handle the little boat and motor. I was threatened with mutiny until I shut up and she disappeared shorewards. Returning was conducted with greater aplomb and no instructions.
The rest of the day was taken up with Ikea construction games, dinner, champagne and bed !
Thursday 26 July
Weather fine - credibility going further south.
An early start as we had the car only until 2.00 in the afternoon and we needed carpet, a longer list of small items from Ikea and lots of other useful stuff. Eventually it was all bought and installed back on the boat and we went back into Hilversum to return the car, except that on arrival at the rental agency I discovered that I had forgotten the scooter keys. Back to Loosdrecht and return - 20 minutes round trip (fortunately no Politie) and then off to the shops to confirm the frig and vacuum.
A rather vague chap at the ‘Modern Electronics’ store assured us all would be well for purchase and delivery and we headed back to the boat.
Having spent most of the afternoon completing the Ikea constructions, carpet cutting and fitting and other make and install tasks, the harbour master gave us the unwelcome news that we would have to vacate. The area we were on was not his and big brother would prosecute them. So, back to the lake, off shore power and extensive use of the dinghy was to be the order of our future days.
Friday 27 July
Weather OK today for our move out of the Jachthaven and onto the lake so I decided we would make a trip of it to see the lake system and run the engine a bit with the alternator now in place. But first to leave.
De Drektakker is a marina accessed by a narrow entrance off a narrow canal. Getting Van Nelle in and out is a great feat of seamanship - well - it ain’t easy. To get in you have to first get through the canal and then take the very sharp corner into the marina. The width of the canal is about three times Van Nelle’s beam and the entrance two times. Once inside you have to turn 180 degrees in an area about 5 metres wider than Van Nelle’s length. It is indeed fortunate that Van Nelle, like most barges, can turn almost within her length since manoeuvring is done by the power of the water from the propeller pushing over the rudder rather than the stream of passing water caused by speed.
Getting out requires separation from the bank almost sideways since there is little room fore and aft with boats tied up in front and behind. Again, Van Nelle’s characteristics assist since when put in gear in reverse, she almost walks sideways by the propeller grabbing blade-fulls of water and throwing them away. This moves the stern outwards to the port side (left) - so - as long as you are moored starboard (right) side in, you can get out relatively easily. If moored port side in you have to revert to forward thrust and rudder or the huge boat hooks we have inherited. Remarkably, it takes a lot less effort to push and pull the boat manually that I expected.
We made the exit gracefully, trying not to stir up the shells and rotten leaves on the floor of the marina since they tend to get sucked into the engine water inlet and reduce the cooling water flow. We slowly headed off for a pleasant trip around the lake, with a bit of steering instruction thrown in on the way for the new crew.
Once back in place and anchored securely in front of the main street marinas, it was time for more shopping - especially for the correct colour grey paint, which unfortunately was still not available.
A note about the anchor. This is a huge object of great weight that hangs from the bow, or more accurately, its shaft fits neatly up the chain pipe that leads up to the deck winch from the outside of the hull. The anchor is secured by a very heavy chain and the whole is operated by a simple lever and ratchet winch. Since the lake is only 2-4 metres deep, about 10-12 metres of chain suffices to keep Van Nelle in place securely against all winds (so far up to about 60knots), so pulling the anchor up is not too hard. You pump the lever back and forth and it rotates the axle on which the chain pulling gear is located, securing each increment with the ratchet. About 20cms each pull has 12 metres up in about 60-100 movements. If it gets too heavy, you just wait, since the boat starts moving forward when you start winching and taking the swing caused by the wind into account, you can complete the operation in about 10 minutes. Once the anchor is off the ground you have plenty of time to secure all forward before having to get to the wheel, since VN stays where she is for minutes despite quite strong winds before slowly paying off and drifting. My experiences so far in handling her have all been pleasant and full of admiration for the characteristics of this early transport technology.
We decided it was time to take in a meal in a restaurant and so headed off to the Hotel Heineke for spare ribs and fish with some nice French white wine to wash it down - and of course an introduction to mad Walter the waiter and his trick of delivering the wine - partly consumed.
Saturday 29 July
Weather still very good so some indoor and outdoor activities planned for the day.
Under strict instructions that ‘a boat has to have an oven’ I had been able to locate a very nice maritime model at the boating second hand shop and we had bought it on the way back from Utrecht in the hire car. Today was the day for installation. One can buy all the necessary gas fittings at various shops around Loosdrecht where I inquired for a gas fitter, only to be told there were no installers. This is a DIY country.
Access to the installation position was good and the cook top allowed for a ‘T’ piece to provide gas to the oven from the cook top. So, apart from one wrong move causing me to have to get a replacement coupling, it all went together easily and on test proved secure. We used the door of the cupboard into which we placed the oven as its new surround so it fits in perfectly and works a treat. Its so good to have alternatives to frying and boiling.
Maureen went scootering (wobbly at first but with greater skill and confidence coming with the mounting kilometres), off to the hardware and supermarkets to soak up oils and lacquers for various bits of furniture and flooring and to buy a chook (Australian for chicken) to roast for dinner - with real vegetables.
An afternoon of painting for me since I had managed to find the correct colour grey deck paint at a rival boat supply shop after having waited a week for Vrijheid to get it in. Maureen applied lacquer to the bench tops which unfortunately rejected it since they had previously been oiled. Back to oiling them then. The new finish worked a treat on the new wheelhouse table which now looks very grand and fits perfectly for lazy meals out of the weather with a 360 degree view. It also rotates, making it easy to get people in and out and for use as a coffee or work table when turned 90degrees. We eat all our meals there and really have a million dollar outlook. I can’t wait for the now familiar Loosdrecht scenery to be exchanged for that of French countryside !
We found a good little wine store in town and so laid in a supply of French wines - Bubbly at about $10 per bottle (Café de Paris), Bordeaux red at 10-15 and various others between 8-15. Also some very old Dutch Genever (forerunner to gin) and Schipper Bitter, a sort of local spirit based aromatic schnapps. Very good start to the exotic onboard cocktail cabinet and wine store.
Sunday 29 July
A beautiful day on the water, hot and sunny.
Up early for a quick morning of work - Jay to paint grey decks and edges, Maureen to strip the bench tops of the unfortunate lacquer and paint the bathroom door, in which we have cut a solid section out and installed a louvred section in to allow better ventilation. With the ventilator fan and the louvres it improves the airflow enormously, eliminating mould entirely.
We had a late brunch and an afternoon siesta - that’s a first - and then off to the waterfront bar ‘Ottenhome’ for a few afternoon beers and a walk through Loosdrecht before a hamburger and a few more beers... Well, why not (as Sir James Hardy is wont to say), it is Sunday !
Monday 30 July
Things were moving too slowly on a number of fronts so today was whip day on the phone. The brokers about the ships papers and insurance, the import company about the furniture, Brouwer ship yard about the gas box, Piet Huebe about the dirty water tank and Vrijheid about pump kits and safety gear. Those calls completed it was time for the arrival of Johan, the TV electrical engineer who is to rewire the engine and control panel.
Johan, all 6' 7" of him, arrived at dockside with his tools, ready for work. He is a character. About 35ish, a bachelor workaholic who travels all over Europe troubleshooting TV live event coverage crews and equipment. He lives on a sailing barge (a Tjalk) which he has been converting for 15 years. It still looks as though it needs 15 years work so it must be true that he spends most of his time doing things for other people.
My dinghy is small and unstable, so when someone like Johan jumps in it is like circus time trying to keep it right side up and everything inside. We managed - somehow, with he sitting right on the bow making the boat very unstable as he unconcernedly rolled a cigarette and chatted about how nice it was to have good weather and a nice job to do. Somehow we managed to get to Van Nelle without a swim and installed him and his gear onto the deck. Coffee first is the order of any business activity in Holland so the kettle was fired up as we discussed everything but the job.
It can be very frustrating trying to do things efficiently here. Maybe it’s the place (Loosdrecht is a holiday centre) or the timing (this is the summer holiday period) but everyone I have contracted comes at least a day after the appointed date and then three hours after the appointed time. None of the jobs have been able to be finished in a day, all requiring a return visit or two for parts forgotten or not foreseen or to be changed for other sizes or capacities. I am definitely worried that we may be forced to spend more time here than we would like in order to get the jobs completed, like the dirty water tank, engine wiring, gas box and blue flag. Not that Loosdrecht and Holland are poor places to be, it’s just that we had a plan to go south for winter and we were not getting close to leaving.
When Johan got to work however it was a different story. He does great work and is really happy doing it. I’m very glad this is not Tension Cutter (our previous boat in Australia) since he would never have been able to squeeze into the spaces in the engine room. Fortunately on Van Nelle there is enough room to walk around the engine unhindered. Just watch your head (whack).
While Johan wired, I scraped. I’m getting quite good at it. He finished the day but not the job and left, promising a return on Tuesday.
Tuesday 31 July
Weather now is turning grey again - phew !
Into Hilversum today to pay for the frig and its delivery and to pick up a few bits and pieces from Gamma. On arrival at Modern Electronics I was not surprised to find that our refrigerator - the last one in stock, had been sold to someone on Saturday. The salesman, who had Saturday and Monday off, was apologetic and somewhat cowed at my controlled rage. He immediately got onto the computer and the phone to secure the absolutely last one in Holland at some place in the remote north. I paid and left him to arrange immediate delivery after also enquiring about the vacuum cleaner we wanted. This I found out was a superseded model for which they had no bags.
Hmm.
Off to the specialist vac shop up town. Yes they had the bags. I bought their supply (enough for a couple of years boat use and returned to the electrical shop to pay for the vacuum and delivery to Jachthaven Wetter Wille where we will hopefully load all this onto Van Nelle in a week’s time.
On return I retired to the engine room to clean areas of the roof and bilge that had been waiting to spread their oily blackness on me and quite forgot Johan’s return. Some time after immersion in bilge water I emerged to see Johan patiently sitting on the edge of the jetty, some 80 metres across the water. Maureen had taken the dinghy ashore sometime earlier and had not returned so, a quick call to Johan by phone, he then found the dinghy, loaded himself and his gear into it and headed out to Van Nelle.
I have to say I felt very bad about that incident. Here was a guy giving up his spare days to travel 45 minutes each way to do the work for me and I left him dangling on the side of a jetty. To his credit (and my shame) he made light of it remarking what a nice day to have time to sit and enjoy nature.
By the end of the day the wiring on the engine was complete, numbered and secured, cut to length and ended with beautiful connectors. I can’t wait for the return visit next week, complete with rewired control panel and eventually, the connection of the two.
Piet Huebe had promised to come today to start work on the dirty water tank. He was a no show and had the phone switched off all day. Worry ! I also arranged for a visit by a metal worker who had agreed by phone to build the ‘blue flag’ but he also did not show up. More worry.
‘Blue Flag’ you ask. When a downstream commercial vessel chooses to travel on the wrong side of the channel in order to make the most of the current, he shows a ‘blue flag’ (actually a blue board) on his starboard side. If you are the upstream boat affected by his choice you acknowledge that you will pass starboard to starboard rather than port to port by also showing your blue flag. It is essential to have the equipment for the busy major canals, so one has to be built for the boat.
Wednesday 1 August
A slow day with unremarkable weather. Lots of little jobs inside and out - mostly with me painting the edges of the various different colours where the lines were not straight and touching up areas where paint had spilt or run. Maureen refurbished an old deck table to use for cocktail hour. It is now a very handsome item with varnished top and blue legs. Unfortunately it was also our paint table so now that paraphernalia goes on the deck.
Thursday 2 August
The day seemed overcast and seemed to be going from bad to worse with the phone call from Modern Electronics.
"Good news and bad news" he said "The frig in the remote north is not the same model. The good news is that it is the later model, same size but higher price. The good news is that we will deliver it for the amount you have already paid". That sounded better. I worry about the salesman’s commission check or tenure in his job but that’s his problem.
No visit from the various tradesmen so I continued work on the stern locker and store area taking some four vacuum bags of grit, dust, paint flakes and rust out. It then received a liberal coat of anti rust oil.
We went to Gamma. Maureen had heard so much about the place I’m sure she was expecting some huge hardware hyper market but it’s really more like a smallish Bunnings. We wandered about looking for hanging rails, hooks and things and found a big umbrella that they arranged to deliver, complete with a concrete footing. This is for the back deck on hot, sunny days. I see myself lounging on one of the layback chairs, cool drink to hand, a pot of pâté close by and white fluffy clouds occasionally casting shadows over my closed eyes.
Later in the day we heard from the import company - the cost of duty was just below 2,500 guilders. I asked for the account to be sent ASAP so I could arrange payment from my bank and keep to their schedule of delivery next Friday. We are hanging out for some familiar items, furniture, books, linen, clothes etc - but for me - mostly some music. We have about 200 CDs to be delivered, unpacked and listened to.
Friday 3 August
I was becoming concerned about fuel and an enquiry to Frank proved that we had little more than 100 litres left. So today was the day to refuel but not completely. Fuel here is expensive, about 15% more than from the bunkerships in Utrecht. Since we will go past them in a week or so, I plan to fill there before completely filling the tanks with really cheap red fuel in Belgium on the way to France. All I have to do is ensure we don’t run out of fuel on the way. My calculations required about 100-150 litres for the next couple of weeks so we decided on 300 now and the rest later.
We went up to West End marina where the fuel is dispensed and went alongside for fuel (calibrated into the tank in 100 litre lots and water (about 1000 litres). That took till after 2.00 pm after which we went out to anchor in this much more protected and quite pretty area.
This is at the extreme west end (hence the name) of Loosdrecht and is an area favoured by water ski and junior sailing schools. Flat barges filled with little sailing dinghies are towed out in the morning and back in the afternoon for the instruction and amusement of lots of very small Dutch children. It is also the location of the Chinese restaurant and the aromas of delicious Chinese meals from lunch time on had us deciding to go there for dinner that night.
Meanwhile we were running the generator as usual to charge the batteries and when it came time to stop it, it would not. The automatic fuel cut-off was not operating completely, leaving the engine just ticking over and causing great vibrations. After a few unsuccessful attempts in the office using the remote I went to the engine room, took off the covers and manually halted the beast. Another worry. I had an experience once before in an ocean race where the engine would not stop and even if forcefully stopped would start again. We had to disconnect it from fuel and electricity to stop it. I called Frank.
Yes, he had it happen "a couple of times but it always worked OK afterwards " and "no, he had not done anything about it". I called Mase in Holland and got the number of a local servicing agent who came the next day.
The Chinese food was excellent - two for a banquet at 68 guilders, a bottle of French Blanc de Blanc (sparkling) for pre dinner and a reasonable red for the dinner. About 7 courses including soup, satay, pork, chicken, steamed and fried rice, lychees and other small dishes. Excellent and only a 2 minute dinghy trip.
Sven Krook, the Blue Flag man - had still not showed up despite repeated promises. Does his name suggest something ?
Saturday 4 August
Piet Huebe turned up at 2.00 after promising eleven and started on the dirty water system. Slow and methodical, he has great tales about the ships he has wired, plumbed, fixed and built. I took him on the recommendation of Vrijheid who imported the very expensive minimum and maximum water sensors for me on his recommendation. He did a nice job of setting up the tank on timber bearers and with new piping to and from it, also securing the pump which previously had lain on the floor. I cleaned the area and treated the steel work surrounding it for rust and painted the timber with grey deck paint. Seems a waste not to use it.
He left for the day with the job looking about 3/4 done. A jolly chap with a thirst for beer rather that tea or coffee - which he will drink only under sufferance.
The problem with the generator brought out the issue of water and dirt in the fuel leading to my job of emptying all the filters and getting literally gallons of water and muck out of the systems.
We felt quite satisfied with progress today and after dinner had a read of the Navicartes for France, and then to bed. We were woken at 3.30am by loud music and horns blaring. A party ship circling us for half and hour having a real good Dutch time of it. Pity we don’t yet have the mini cannons installed.
Sunday 5 August
Windy today with lots of rain early. I know that since we have an excellent rain gauge - the dinghy.
The weather is sure to put Piet off who promised to come at eleven again. He actually turned up at 12.00 and finished the job - except that the new switch (the very expensive ones now substituted with a time delay model instead of the auto minimum water level version) does not talk the same language as the others and therefore nothing works. Fortunately there is a manual override which we can use until he returns to fix it - maybe Monday if the parts are in stock.
Maureen scrubbed all the floors while I installed hooks, reinforced the front bedroom bed legs (80% Frank installed) and installed a board on which the bath pump now is secured. It was lying on the floor as well as the dirty water pump. They, and all their hoses are now organised, tightened and secured.
This evening we received a phone call from home. It was really great to hear the voices of Ian and Helen Palmer who had just returned from a camping trip in the North West, mustering cattle and tramping the gorges. I reckon Helen would only have to give ‘that look’ and the cows would all stand in line and salute.
A great end to the day and the week.
Monday 6 August
The weather looked good to start with but deteriorated during the early morning. We rose to ring Miria Cummins for her birthday and finally got through to her in her company’s office in Australia. It’s funny how we think we are privileged to get calls from friends at home but when you call someone like Miria the effect is great. She loved receiving the call and we were all quite emotional at being able to wish each other the best, but especially to wish her a very happy birthday.
It was also Simon (our younger son’s) birthday in Australia and we called him to get his news and wish him a happy birthday too. He was busy rushing around to cook for the occasion so we chatted briefly and left him to enjoy his day.
Surprise of surprises when Peter Hoobee (as his spelling turns out to be) turned up with the parts to finish the dirty water tank system and within a couple of hours it was working a treat. We celebrated with a beer - what else ?
We also called Jitse who was holidaying in Norway or Sweden in a caravan (brrr) to inquire as to the progress with the insurance company. We cannot proceed to France without full insurance cover for the ship as they insist on it for entry to commercial marinas. He agreed to chase it and called a few hours later to advise that the company ‘had sent the papers to our address and could not retrieve them, we would just have to wait as there was nothing else he could do’.
I decided to take further action, rang his father, elicited the name of the insurance clerk dealing with the account, called them and they agreed to furnish the papers by fax to the nearby Jachthaven - Wolfrat. Later in the afternoon the papers had not arrived so they received a further call, following which a letter arrived stating that they had taken the ship on an all risks policy with a hefty discount. Some progress at least. I then tried to arrange to pay their account at the local branch of my Dutch bank. No they said - you’ll have to do that at your branch in Utrecht. Difficult.
I decided then that the easiest course of action was therefore to go to Utrecht on Wednesday as a round trip to Amsterdam.
Tuesday 7 August
Weather indifferent but worsening
Johan was a no show at 10.00am, the time appointed to complete the engine rewiring. Bah. A call advised us that a colleague had gone sick and he had to cover for him. We agreed to meet on Thursday instead as we were off to Amsterdam on Wednesday.
The day was a sort of a knock-about day after that with a trip to the shops and some bits and pieces about the ship. We decided to go for a drink at the nearby café / restaurant but on arrival found it was closed Mondays and Tuesdays. We went up the shore a bit to the Chinese and enjoyed a bottle of French Brut de Brut and some Chinese dim sum nibbles - all very nice, but at 70 guilders a bit expensive as we try to throttle back on the expenses to meet our budget targets.
Wednesday 8 August
Wow - the wind had come up to 30-40knots overnight and was howling in the morning.
We got the dinghy underway at about 8.50 to get to Hilversum by scooter for the train to Utrecht and the bank visit. A pretty easy arrangement with the ticket lady selling us reasonably priced round trip, second class tickets. Only about 1 minute’s wait and a 15-20 minute trip and we were at the bank shortly after 10.00.
Disaster. The account was overdrawn. How ? The inquiries clerk got on the computer and right away I spotted a double payment to Nijmen, the import company of 2454 Guilders each. The bank, having made the error could not undo it so I had to call Nijmen’s and have them raise a payment to my account. I also put some cash in and gave them a cheque from the ANZ to boost the funds - that will take a week at least but we may need the pin card capability when it comes to paying for a couple of thousand guilders worth of fuel. And, there is the insurance bill to pay.
That completed we set off to show Maureen the sights - Utrecht Cathedral and some of the charming city squares and canals running through the central district. A market was on the in the main square also, adding to the bustle and cluttering the sight lines. We grabbed an applebak (cake) on the run and headed for the station for the train to Amsterdam. A 10-15 minute wait and we were off on a 25 minute trip to the centre of Sex City. A number 2 tram and shortly after 12.00noon we were at the Rijksmuseum - Amsterdam’s Louvre.
We were not disappointed as the vast building is crammed with Dutch master’s paintings and other beautiful crafts such as furniture, glass, silver and pottery. Two hours of wandering and we retired to the restaurant for some brootjes (rolls) and drinks before heading for the Volkspark nearby where a troupe of Dutch Wiggles wannabees were entertaining about 1,000 little kids with huge amounts of electronic amplification.
Out of the park to the tram stop and on to the Palace Museum. Built for the kings and queens of Holland, this impressive building stands next to the Niew Kirk, also from the 1600s and also a museum, but both buildings are still used for state occasions. Inside, the main hall was set for a state dinner with fabulous flatware and silver, crystal and silver centre pieces. By now (about 4.00pm) the legs were starting to complain and we needed to get back to Hilversum to pick up the scooter so we headed off through increasing crowds of soccer ‘fan-imals’.
The Irish were in town dressed in green and white, guzzling beer, singing loud, unintelligible songs and generally starting to get rowdy. The police numbers were increasing down the main street and we were frankly pleased to get out of town. We made it to the station and then had to try to decipher the railway timetable to catch the right train to go to the right destination. With minutes to spare I managed to get to the front of my queue to inquire and was given the same information that Maureen had been able to work out on the big plans set on the platforms. We made it to the right platform only to see trains come and go with conductors shooing people away until finally the right train arrived and we all raced on and settled for a quick ride to Hilversum.
Maureen shot off to get some Velcro for wheelhouse cushions while I tried to address the service problems with the scooter shop. Complaints were a bit pointless as it was near closing time and we had no time to wait for them to fix the tuning. They did adjust the very sloppy brakes (which they had caused during the service) and a rattle in the exhaust but the poor little thing is a bit wheezy and has a bit of a cough. We will have to wait till France to get it sorted out.
It was still very windy so we were glad to get back aboard into the comfort and warmth of the cabins.
Thursday 9 August
The wind has blown itself out but the morning started with rain. Shortly after 10.00am Johan rang to say he was arriving at West End with the parts. A few minutes later, Maureen was off on the scooter to do a major shop, Johan was aboard and the final leg of the engine rewiring saga was taking place. Some hours later he asked if I would like to start the engine as he had finished in the engine room. A small ceremony and turn of the key - nothing ! OOPS.
Some quick checks with a multimeter and a change of wires then another turn of the key and the engine vibrated into noisy life. Beams all round as we watched lights lighting up and waited for temperature and pressure gauges to react, which they all did ! Great effort and a great relief. Only one thing left to do, run a multi-core cable from the block in the engine room to the wheelhouse and screw the wires in place and it will be finished - except - Johan did not have the right cable (of course) but a colleague had one and he would just head off to pick it up. He left and 3.00pm and by 6.00 was still not back.
Meanwhile, I worked on some new taps, a shelf, changed the ends on some electrical cables and adjusted the auto stop on the generator. Maureen investigated the under cupboard floor and went to work in the front cabin on a few rough spots that need finishing.
Tomorrow is the big day - the arrival of our goods. There is great anticipation here and some concern as to where it will all fit - but that is for tomorrow. We had decided that we were going to leave Loosdrecht to begin our trek south on Monday, after this weekend and therefore set about getting everything finished by Sunday. No mean feat.
Friday 10
Of course it had to rain today. We pulled anchor early and navigated into de Drektakker, up the narrow channel and through the impossibly tight turn into the haven, made the 180 degree turn at the entrance and reversed Van Nelle back to tie up against Frank’s Tjalk to unload his remaining gear before again heading off to Jachthaven Wetter Wille to meet up with the moving team and our belongings.
We were on our way at 9.30 as the phone rang. Ellen at Wetter Wille to advise that the team had arrived with their truck and that the mooring was free. We entered cautiously, took the 90 degree turn and nudged up against the dock. Maureen made some gestures at the truck and managed to coax the team out in the rain to take our lines. We were soon secure and I briefed the team about access. We tied open the skylights and got the process under way, Maureen checking off the items and the men lowering them into the hull. How was it all going to fit ?
More and more boxes piled up against the furniture and wrapping. By the middle of the exercise it looked like a mini disaster but slowly, order emerged from the chaos. I sent Maureen off to collect the scooter from West End, a pretty long walk, and helped the team with the deck and other items. Pretty soon we were finished and Maureen had not re-appeared - she had to have gone to the shops after collecting money from the bank. By this time Sven Krook had arrived with a truly beautiful ‘blue board’ to install on the starboard side of the wheelhouse and it was starting to get embarrassing about the moving men hanging around who obviously wanted to get back to Rotterdam. I sent them off to get lunch at the café up the road and tried to slow Sven down.
Eventually Maureen arrived back after the truck had been taken to find her. She had completed a truly remarkable shop, coming back with groceries, a sledge hammer, mops and other assorted items, all piled aboard the scooter. She looked like an Asian family on holiday. On her arrival the guys lifted the scooter onto the deck where I secured it and they departed hurriedly. Sven was paid with the cash Maureen arrived back with and also departed, we plugged in to the shore power and turned on the frig, unwrapped more and more items and tried to find logical places for them. This took until about 4.30 when with some guilt I prepared to do the impossible, take Van Nelle out through a crowded marina backwards, negotiating a 90 degree bend and in so doing, not destroying the other exposed boats.
It was surprisingly easy in the end. Done slowly and deliberately the ship responded well to the thrust of the prop and the press of the rudder and we emerged to make a final 180 degree turn and head back to West End.
We spent some hours unpacking and putting away and collapsed over a scratch dinner of pasta. Shortly after we received a call from Frank who said they couldn’t do dinner with us on Saturday but could come for a drink tonight. Ok, were not tired, please come. They did and we had an enjoyable few hours with some drinks, nibbles and talk of politics and music. They left at 1.30am and we went off to bed, strangely to toss and turn for an hour or so before sleeping fitfully.
Saturday 11
The weather was bright and sunny on this Saturday and washing was the first order of priorities, not only to test the machine but also to get the mounting loads under control. It was also a chance to test the dryer on the generator and put everything under load to see what sort of power consumption we would have. The process began and all seemed to be progressing well, surely it could not be this easy ? The amps consumed were a few more than I had expected for the frig but it was just trying to chill the huge load of goods it had been presented with.
Despite the odd hiccup, everything had been resolving well and I had been lulled into a bit of a false sense of security - especially in regard to the engine problem we had discovered before. We had had several local ‘experts’ look at the engine, inside and out and they all declared it a minor issue. However, coolant leaking into the sump only meant one thing and that could be a show stopper.
I checked the engine and got a case of the chills again. There was evidence of the dreaded cooling fluid in the sump. I determined to get a vacuum pump from Vrijheid and check it out. In the end it was a small amount but never the less it was still there and something will have to be done about it, the question is where and when. I don’t relish the thought of staying here for another day let alone another couple of weeks. My inclination is to arrange a settlement with Frank for his contribution to the cost and head south. Maybe in France we can get a Baudouin specialist with access to all the parts and accessories required to fix the leak and service the engine at the same time. We’ll see. I called Frank also to propose a cash settlement from him of 2000 guilders for the engine problems and he said he would consider it.
Sunday 12
Really lousy weather at the start that just got worse. Another storm with high winds, rain and whitecaps on the lake - and we need water after our washing machine gobbled up about 250 litres in three loads yesterday.
I called Ellen at Wetter Wille to see if we could get in to fill up and was advised to tie up to the outside breakwater. We arrived and against strong winds managed to moor securely. Maureen went off to get money and shopping bits preparatory to leaving tomorrow and I supervised the watering while checking the bank accounts by internet.
We completed the watering and the weather had really deteriorated. I pulled the dinghy up to the side of the boat, it was on a short line on the stern. It looked secure where it was and would not be exposed. What a huge mistake.
I had briefed Maureen that I would put Van Nelle ahead with the wheel hard to starboard as we were tied up on the starboard side. That would push the stern into the wind away from the breakwater we were tied to and from that position we could reverse out, since in reverse Van Nelle pulls to port. That worked well until I put the boat into reverse to pull away from the breakwater. The strong winds were threatening to push us straight back onto the wall and pin us against it so I gave the engine a fair bit of throttle and we moved away. The first 10 - 20 metres were touch and go and I applied more power to keep us heading away from the wall.
Maureen, having done a great job with ropes and fenders on the bow in the driving rain, went aft to check the dinghy. I saw her look over the stern and turn to me with a horrified look. The dinghy had been sucked against the rudder and prop and was pinned there as the prop carved off the outboard motor as though it was cutting paper not aluminium and started on the hull and stern of the dinghy. I couldn’t stop and anyway was not aware of the extent of the damage at that stage as Maureen could not see clearly enough to report what was happening in detail.
We had now moved far enough to put the ship into forward and turn before we again hit the wall. I carried out the manoeuvre as quickly as possible and headed back to the West End. Maureen came into the wheel house and told me to check the dinghy. What a mess. Poor Little Nellie had suffered mortal wounds from the hugely powerful engine and prop. She was in a sinking state, just held up by the tow line that kept the water flowing out of her double hull by the venturi effect while in motion. It was clear that the engine had been carved off, leaving the mounting bracket in place. There was a huge gash in the stern and into the inner hull and Nellie was half full of water with the oars floating just below the gunwales.
There was nothing I could do in the middle of the lake and with a sick feeling I took the wheel again to get us to anchor in West End. We arrived and anchored in the rain and then I knew I had to get into what was left of Nellie to try to get her body back onto Van Nelle. I jumped in and she immediately threatened to capsize and began to rapidly sink. I attached the snap shackle to the ring of the harness and tried to get the fourth clip in place on the starboard side, the other three being attached already.
It was no good, she was going down with me in her while Maureen tried desperately to winch her up. As the water closed over my knees I leaped up the side of Van Nelle and scrambled aboard the mother ship having tied the bow line of the dinghy to the lifting shackle in a last gasp attempt to keep Nellie from the deep.
Slowly we winched and as the bow raised, the water receded out of the huge gash in her stern. She came up to the deck level, as far as the winch could take her since she was not coming up level. We waited until she emptied and then hauled her aboard. I could have cried at that moment. This shattered wreckage was once a pretty little carvel shaped hull with a cheeky tilt to her bow and cute lines. Sure she was heavy, unstable and falling to bits, and I had been naive in thinking I would get her back into sailing shape, but that was now a wrecked dream, lying broken on the cabin roof. The outboard, a game little 4 hp Mariner was at the bottom of the lake at the entrance to the Jachthaven Wetter Wille.
I called Ellen with the sad news. She immediately offered the services of their contract diver for 150 guilders to search and 200 more if he found the engine. I refused, thinking that the engine would probably be a battered wreck and anyway if necessary I could haul out my scuba gear and find in myself, if the weather turned. For now though I just wanted to lick my wounded pride and castigate myself for once again ignoring the smarter voices in my head that had told me at least three times to bring Little Nellie on deck.
I spent the rest of the day in a black funk castigating myself for my stupidity. I retreated into some minor jobs around Van Nelle as the rain beat the outside mercilessly, just as I was doing to my insides. Hopefully this re-telling of the saga will purge my soul a little.
Oh well, it’s all part of the grand adventure. I hope we don’t have to try to row ashore from a mooring in the near future as we don’t have the means to.
Chapter Three - The voyage south
Monday 13 August
I had become so entrenched in the Loosdrecht life that the decision to actually leave was a bit of a whim. I knew we had to get going at some time but there were still so many things to do. After thinking about it, discussing it with Maureen and rationalising the desire to get underway against the conservative philosophy of staying put in an area where I had access to resources, I just decided that we had better get on with it and fix the ‘to do list’ on the way. Besides, after almost cutting ‘Little Nell’ in half, we had no way of commuting to shore.
We woke on the Monday morning and with a great deal of trepidation, prepared to leave. Before getting underway, I had to check that there was no damage to the prop from the Little Nell mishap, so an early morning swim was called for. Bear in mind that you cannot see anything in the waters of the Loosdrechtse and it looks (and was) cold that morning with grey leaden skies and a keen wind. I put some tyres down as ladders and carefully slid into the water, feeling my way to the stern and the prop and rudder. Since I could not see underwater, the inspection was by feel and I rotated the prop carefully feeling the edges and the shape of each of the three blades. To my fingers and hands there were no marks, cracks, nicks or gauges, Van Nelle had cut through an outboard motor and a two hull fibre glass dinghy without feeling a thing.
I clambered back on deck and showered the muddy Dutch water off, put on new socks and warm clothes and started the motor. Just the day before, I had a meeting with Frank to discuss the cost of fixing the engine coolant leak and we had agreed his contribution which he paid, but I was still greatly nervous about this aspect of the boat’s performance on a long and challenging journey. Everything sounded and looked right however and we winched up the anchor and set off for the Nieuwersluis exit from Loosdrechtse to the Vecht. No flags or bunting, no waving crowds or wailing, abandoned lovers here, just a quiet and unseen departure from our anchorage outside the Chinese restaurant at West End.
The trip down the Vecht, the narrow and very pretty waterway out to the Amsterdam Rhinecanal, was uneventful except that Maureen forgot to have a coin ready at the first bridge and was quite startled by the sudden appearance of a clog, supported by a fishing line. This is the method by which the lock and bridge keepers augment their incomes and the normal charge is a guilder in the shoe.
As we slowly made our way towards one of the world’s great waterways I resolved to fix Little Nell. She sits on the deck ahead of the wheelhouse, bearing her broken stern and gashed under body with a certain wounded dignity and reminds me each time I look forward of the stupid oversight I made in not bringing her on deck for the watering procedure.
After a couple of uneventful hours I was starting to relax a little as we turned left into the Rhine Canal. This is a man made, long, wide, busy stretch of water that takes huge commercial boats and passenger vessels from Amsterdam through to the Rhine and Germany. We were a small addition to the bustling population of oil carriers, work ships, tugs, cruisers and official boats plying the route.
To get to our destination required a turn south off the canal onto the Waal River which we did some hours later. This is a different kettle (or canal) of fish altogether. A broad, navigable river with a current running at 5 km/h against us and commercial ships still doing 15kmh against the current bearing down on us from behind and speeding towards us from ahead. This was the first big test for Van Nelle’s propulsion equipment, engine, gearbox, shaft and prop. All performed beautifully and Johan’s work on the gauges allowed me to monitor the engine and gearbox performance constantly, a great comfort when the dials reported good operating conditions without change for hour after hour.
We pushed on until about 7.00pm arriving at the entrance to an overnight harbour for commercial vessels. We entered and over the radio negotiated a berth at the far end behind a small tug. There was nothing nearby to excite the explorer in us so we prepared dinner and went to bed. A long, tiring but very successful day punctuated once by a large gas carrying ship suddenly turning across us in the channel. He and we managed our affairs suitably and passed with room to spare but with a slight quickening of the pulse.
In a day of ten hours travelling we achieved approximately 75 kilometres.
Tuesday 14 August
A lovely day dawned with sunshine and a total lack of clouds. This was to be the prevailing pattern as we headed away from the Low Countries of the Netherlands. I don’t want to be down about their weather but the Dutch have to be used to rain, rain and more rain. In more than two months I had only about 6 days of warm sunny weather in Holland and in the following two weeks, only 2 or 3 days without sunshine.
I started the day by thoroughly checking the engine and running gear, oil levels, fluid reservoirs, pipes, connections and stern gland. Everything passed with flying colours. Confidence boosting !
Engine started at about 0800 and on to Venlo. We travelled on the Waal River again for some time before passing into the Maas River, less current and somewhat less traffic but still busy and bustling. After a day of about 88 kilometres we arrived at Venlo and into the Jachthaven where, by phone, we had arranged a berth. When we arrived we found to our consternation that another couple of boats had arrived unannounced before us and taken our position. We had one choice, the back side of the jetty with the bows firmly on the muddy bottom and a number of fenders required to keep us from sharp protruding edges. We took the option since there were no others.
The Jachthaven was well founded however with a restaurant and boat repair facilities, power and water supplied in the price of an overnight stay. We settled up and set off on bikes to explore the nearby town. After some distance we had found little of interest and as it was getting late, decided to return and go to the marina restaurant for dinner. This was in a building up a hill on the side of the marina with a nice view of the boats below. We found a table on the balcony and ordered steaks and local wine. Everyone there were ‘boaties’ so conversations flowed across tables between ourselves and other couples widely different in ages, backgrounds and outlooks. Sated we headed for bed and the thoughts of another long day at the wheel in only a few hours. So far however, despite the few locks being enormous (100+ metres long and drops or rises of 10-12 metres), there were few of them and were easily handled.
Canals and canalised rivers work by their water levels being maintained by a series of locks. These are enclosed sections of the waterway with huge gates at each end. Boats enter at one end and the gates are closed, water is then allowed in or out depending on which direction you are going and the gates at the opposite end are opened once the water level is the same as that outside. The boats then exit at the new level. By this means boats can ‘climb’ or ‘descend’ to the levels maintained outside the locks on the intervening stretch of river or canal.
On rivers like the Waal and Maas and major canals such as the Amsterdam Rhine canal, the locks can be 100 to 300 metres in length and 20 or more metres wide. Many different sized boats and ships can use the locks at the same time and their placement is arranged between them and the lock keeper by radio. This is difficult for a private boat with limited fluency in the local language but the willingness of all to help overcomes many problems.
To start with, a new owner / skipper and crew can be overwhelmed by the enormity of the locks and the vessels using it which he or she have to navigate close to in front or behind, often fitting their boat into narrow spaces between. You soon get used to it however and begin to enjoy the break from driving and the chance to meet and chat with other boaters.
Maureen finished the re-covering of the wheelhouse cushions today as we travelled. Dark blue velvet - looks magnificent.
Wednesday 15, Thursday 16 and Friday 17 August
Wednesday as we arose was a HOT day. With the sun and light breezes, the temperatures these days are regularly above 30 degrees. We departed Venlo at a leisurely 11.00am and headed for Maastricht, some 65km south, where we arrived at 3.00pm. These large waterways are great if you want to get somewhere in a hurry. There are few locks and they operate all day and some into the night. Being deep and broad allows us to travel at high speed (relatively) whereas smaller canals reduce speeds to 6kmh as suction and bank damage occur if you try to use too much power.
Maastricht is a pretty town and we were quite overjoyed to find three choices of moorings. There is the ‘New Basin’ which is a rebuild of the old original commercial port and very pretty but quite expensive, then there is a wall running between two bridges (which was filled with small plastic boats) plus there was the town wall just behind the Shell bunker ship and boat shop. We chose the latter and after tying up securely began a three day break to explore this lovely little city.
Maastricht is set on the river Maas, overlooked by a fortress, populated with lots of old, picturesque buildings and lovely shady squares filled with tables, chairs, umbrellas, busy waiters and cold glasses of beer, wine and spirits. We felt instantly at ease and at one with the world. It doesn’t get better than this !
The first day we explored the town, the next we rode to the top of the fortress hill on a cooler and sometimes rainy day and were dispatched underground by the guides at the top, into kilometres of tunnels from which limestone had been excavated for buildings throughout the district and for larger towns abroad. It was a day reminiscent of one we had experienced in France while canal cruising with our friends the Reeds and the Prattleys years before on the Nivernais Canal as we explored some caves at Bailley, but this one was without the sparkling wine produced there.
A highlight of the sightseeing for me (but one Maureen swears she didn’t see) was the female who appeared out of a boutique in town and walked ahead of us for a hundred metres or so. This was no young model but a very slim (skinny perhaps) 50 year old woman. As is the fashion in the Netherlands and Belgium (but strangely not France) she was wearing a ‘thong’ otherwise known as a ‘G string’ but that was all - under a completely see through dress. Stilettos and a poodle completed the outfit. Quite an eyeful.
We decided to stay overnight to see two museums the next day - an art gallery and an exposition of life ‘under the bridges’ with quite an emphasis on the river life and times of the old port town. These were thought provoking as they contained much about the life we were now experiencing.
Friday morning was taken up at the museums and then the nearby supermarket where a large store of excellent wines were purchased at ridiculously low prices. Another highlight was a visit to a branch of the ABN AMRO bank where they could not tell me what my account balance was, whether a couple of transactions had been processed, or any other useful information. I guess the Dutch banking system suits the Dutch but I would not recommend it elsewhere.
This night we had a couple from an adjoining boat over for a barbecue on our back deck with the huge umbrella guarding us from the late sunset and the slow moving river traffic a passing parade of sights as the wine and local produce quenched our appetites. This was to become a pattern of life for the next five years as we would arrive in a town or village and be assisted to a mooring by other boaters or bargees. The inevitable discussions comparing notes and boats would be followed by drinks on theirs or ours and often that would drift into a BYO BBQ where each couple or group would bring whatever they had to contribute to the dinner - food of course but mostly wine.
Saturday 18 August
We departed at 10.30am for Liege on a cool and slightly wet morning and travelled the 15 kilometres in three hours. While it was only an hours cruising, we had to wait for entry to a couple of locks and in between, settled for a much slower cruise speed to enjoy the scenery.
The yacht harbour entrance at Liege was narrow and manoeuvring room very restricted so we chose the outside wall and settled in. This led to a contre-temps with the harbour master as I argued we were not in the harbour and had no access to their facilities or protection from passing vessels and therefore should not pay, or at least be offered a discount for the overnight fee. They disagreed and enlisted a resident yachtie to try and convince me. It was a war not worth winning at about $12 so I caved in and paid. They then made an effort to get us power and water.
Our trusty mountain bikes took us through the town to the inevitable cathedral, old town, shopping streets (the shopping in Belgium is very good) and out to the Palace (huge) and the main town square (even more huge). We soaked up the sights and later some pizza and pasta, wine and a beer or two and settled in for the night.
Sunday 19 August
We went to the catholic cathedral for the mass since it was advertised as a sung Eucharist and we had not had a chance to experience any musical performances so far. The choir consisted of two female and about five male singers, enthusiastically led by a thirties something female with a glorious voice and a very insistent baton. We had a quick energy recharge (coffee and cakes) following the service and set off for the town of Huy at 12.00, arriving there at 2.00pm.
We arrived at Huy to find a large carnivale in full swing along the river just across and up from our mooring. Our bikes sped us to the centre of the festivities and we wandered through the slightly frowsy set of ‘side show alley’ attractions before buying a bottle of wine made from flowers. The seller’s daughter had spent a year in central America - which is apropos of nothing really but a reflection on the sort of useless information one gathers in these wanderings.
The first week of travel had seen us travel 278 kilometres of canals and rivers, uncounted towns, villages and several cities. So far, so good. I have to say that I was having a great time. In charge of a great ship on the waterways of Europe, mixing with commercial and pleasure boats, gaining terrific experience and in the main, with no pressures or hassles. This has to be a great life.
Monday 20 August
We had decided to pick up cheap fuel in Belgium where it is something like half the price of diesel in France and had nominated the town of Dave as the target. Unfortunately on our arrival at Dave we found the fuel stop had closed, permanently, so we continued on to Namur and picked up a mooring on the riverside in town right in front of the Casino.
Once again a town overlooked and dominated by a large castle which demanded investigation. The views were stunning from the area at the top which offered both a parfumerie and a couple of free museums. Well worth the effort of the climb.
Later, we explored the town, again picturesque with lovely town squares and a plethora of restaurants, cafes and outdoor eating. We enjoyed a beer at one and returned to Van Nelle for dinner before a wander over to the Casino. We dressed for the occasion as the building appeared quite swish. On arrival and after a slow look at the art exhibition in the foyer we made for the entrance to the gaming room. Stopped at the door for our passes we were surprised to learn that you need a passport and 150 francs ($A40) for entrance. As we contemplated these facts we noticed the lowly calibre of those inside and decided we would skip the experience - back to the boat.
Tuesday 21 August
On to Dinant where we arrived early in the afternoon to an absolutely delightful scene. This is a very pretty riverside town dominated (again) by fortresses on the heights above. The town boasts a lovely church, old buildings, narrow streets and cheerful people. It is also the birthplace of Alfred Sax, the inventor of the saxophone ! We secured a free mooring right in front of the Leffe restaurant and the church and immediately headed off to the bar for a refreshment. As it was nearing dinner time and the meals appearing around us looked fantastic, and since we had chanced a great table on the balcony overlooking Van Nelle on the river, we decided to stay for a meal. We ordered and received the biggest pork hocks and steaks we had yet seen. These were accompanied by frites (chips), roast potatoes, salads, beans and other garnishments. A bottle of the local and a hour or so of dedicated feeding and we were well past caring.
I should point out that ‘French fries’ were actually invented in Belgium but are called ‘frites’
Wednesday 22
We decided to stay for a day or so to explore and enjoy - one can’t be always on the move!
Shopping, riding, walking, communicating in French, this is all very tiring work for the traveller and requires equal amounts of rest and refreshment. We decided on the long lunch and went to the ‘King of Moules’ Restaurant for Moules Frites. This is a signature dish of Belgium although it has been exported to other nearby countries. This is mussels (in your choice of over 20 sauces) together with bread, butter and frites (French fries). Carafes of Rosé (perfect accompaniment) completed the repast that stretched from 12.00 till after 2.00 and prompted a bit of a lie down to follow.
I’m prompted to comment and compare our voyage so far with the diarised experience of the MacLean- Jordan family in their travels through Belgium in their luxemotor Mea Vota. Their path took them through the industrial heartland of Belgium, complete with stinging, sulphur laden air, black water and industrial overnight stops. Ours has been blissfully beautiful and enjoyable via the eastern side of the country rather than the (possibly) more industrial west. If you, the reader, are planning a trip north or south via Belgium - I can absolutely recommend our path.
We stayed through Wednesday, Thursday and reluctantly left on Friday for Givet and France.
Friday 24 August
Beautiful one day, perfect the next. The saying is of Queensland, Australia, but can be used to describe the weather and scenery along the river Meuse through Belgium and the north of France. As we meandered into canal country, the width of the waterways decreased together with the number of commercial vessels also becoming limited, the weather was kind and the boat performed beautifully.
We had taken on water, fuel and power in Dinant and arrived at another beautiful town with no pressing needs. We set out to explore this quiet river stop at Givet, it’s historical interest, the centre of ceramic artisans, the old Charlemont Castle and the restaurants, cafes, street side bars and shopping hideaways.
We arranged a French phone card in the ubiquitous local phone shop and enjoyed the 30+ degree heat from the shade of the umbrella and the waterside trees. This was our first taste of France on this momentous voyage of discovery and we were well pleased with it. Passing the border was uneventful as the customs building still exists but had been abandoned for years. Arriving in France at Givet was simple and welcoming. The mooring was serviced with power, water was available nearby and the riverside was a garden in full bloom.
Each night the locals stroll down and along the waterfront, chatting quietly as the younger contingent buy pizzas and frites from the mobile café that arrives at five and departs at ten. They all smile and acknowledge you as you sit on your boat, or near to it on shore with your picnic. It is calm and idyllic. While we were there it was also warm, even hot and with kids and their dogs splashing in the river shallows the scene was of a time best captured in a French impressionist painting.
However, other ports and meetings awaited us so we decided to caste off the next day for Fumay on our way to Champagne. Who could resist the urge not to hurry toward the sound of the bubbles.
Saturday 25 August
Our first tunnel was experienced this day. It is not a long one but narrow and made somewhat disconcerting (if not difficult) by the light from the entrance reflecting in the wheelhouse windows and the light from the exit stabbing the eyes from the front. Our powerful little floodlight on the mast was overwhelmed at times but we made it through.
We were now in the country of the Freycinet ecluses (locks) a standard 38.5m long and 5m wide. Monsieur Freycinet has a name that rings in the minds of Western Australians as he was on a patrol of French frigates commanded by Boudin that explore the Western Australian coast in the early 1800s. He became France’s Minister of Transport, inheriting the hotch potch of privately built and owned canals with their differing gauges. He therefore decreed they should be standardised and as a result, France was able to develop a nationwide network of intersecting rivers and canals, all able to be cross-navigated by a standard sized barge.
Getting Van Nelle’s 4.5m width into a 5m space is a bit difficult at times despite slow approaches and the judicious use of power over the rudder. Small eddies, currents and wind can push the boat off the centre line when close to the entrance, sometimes resulting in loud (but not damaging) noises from the steel hull and rock walls. We soon learned that judiciously placed fenders was the answer.
These close encounters were another motivator to achieve higher levels of proficiency in the skills of steering and operating the engine to accurately position and manoeuvre the boat. Wind and current complicates the procedures learned from experts and only experience overcomes most challenges. The new operator has to keep in mind that doing it slowly will allow more time to get it right and that it will also lessen damage if you get it wrong. Not that damage is a large concern since Van Nelle is a very solid vessel. Besides, one should not ever come into contact in anything other than a slow glancing blow, at most requiring a small application of the relevant paint.
There is a need for the crew to be able to secure the boat by throwing the mooring lines over the bollards in locks and moorings. There are time tested ways to do this which I learned and practised at the barge handling course run by Tam and Di Murrell in Cambrai, northern France. I had taught Maureen the art and left her to perfect it and she spent considerable time practising rope throwing with increasing frustration as her efforts did not seem to be rewarded by success. She would not give up till she got it right however and her work on the foredeck at times saved much ‘face’..
Fumay, like the towns before it, was pretty and enjoyable. We wandered through town making small purchases of bread and lettuce. A wedding passed us as we wandered the streets before we retired to dinner on board. Weddings, like christenings and funerals, town celebrations and the like are a joy to be caught up in as they tend to be very public in the smaller towns, often leading visitors to become guests or at least close members of the extended audience. A French town that is having a local or national celebration is one to be in at the time. Tables and chairs are arranged in the town square and food, drinks and music are as generous as the country people who just accept etrangers (foreigners) who appear and join their throng. And, they love Australians.
We decided to stay at Fumay to enjoy a long lunch on the river side on Sunday. Chicken, pâté, bread, cheese, wine, sun, fun ! A passer by mentioned that the weather would deteriorate later but it showed no signs of change. We went to bed that night feeling pretty good.
3.00am and we woke to the full fury of a massive thunderstorm. A wall of noise and the sky rent by livid flashes of raw power in lightning bolts that created instant black and white pictures of frenzied activity inside Van Nelle as we raced to close skylights, portholes and windows from the onrush of solid water pouring out of the black sky. What an excitement, then to be warm and dry in bed with the sound of the fury passing over and receding into the distance. A memorable performance for us and one that brought back Johan’s misgivings of being in the wheelhouse of a ship during a storm. He is one who believes you can be fried if you are caught in the wheelhouse and always retreats below during storms. We have never heard of such storms actually causing casualties and often have watched the fury of a good storm from the wheelhouse - especially the hurricane that caused so much damage and death in Bordeaux in the summer of 2003 - but that was two years ahead.
Monday 27 August.
The day started overcast but rapidly cleared as we headed away from Fumay to Charleville Mezieres, two competing towns brought together only 20 or so years ago and now offering a range of facilities. This beginning to the third week has seen us cover 387km and puts us in our third country - La Belle France.
We are now definitely ‘en Francais’ with almost no-one but other boaties speaking English. The wide river waterways have given way to narrow canals that are increasingly shallow and the speed restricted to 6kmh. While this slows our progress it is enjoyable and we have only Maureen’s appointment with Adrienne Keen in Paris (a friend from Clean Up Australia) and our week with Laurie and Marlene O’Meara, who are joining us in Reims for a cruise to Epernay to get to.
The country towns are now about 10 - 15km apart and each has its charm, its facilities and its secrets for us to unlock. French provincial towns and villages grew up on the canal sides to service the boats just as much as for the boats to service them. No town in the country is more than one meal away from the next by foot. This makes exploring a delight since it takes only 2-3 hours barge cruising to pass from one town to the next. Not that you should only travel between towns, the country side is pretty, expansive, very quiet and free. One can stop almost wherever the fancy takes you except for obvious exceptions such as under bridges and if obstructing corners.
Charleville Mezieres boasts the Musee d’Ardennes, the Place Ducale, the centre of puppetry (marionettes) in Europe (with a marionette clock much bigger than London Court), expansive markets and modern facilities. We moored first in their new marina but it was isolated and deserted so early the next day we moved to the riverside, closer into the town centre.
Getting in and out of the new marina was a challenge as they had constructed a low, arched bridge across the entrance and I was not at all sure we would fit. I inched Van Nelle forward under the bridge until the wheelhouse was a few feet away from the span. We could then tell accurately that if we stayed right in the middle we could just get under. Inside were huge new floating pontoons, all wired and plumbed for power and water for a hundred boats of all sizes and shapes and not one but us. As the marina had not been officially opened, none of the facilities were operating, so after staying the night we retreated the next day.
Nearby was Johanna, a Luxemotor I had seen advertised as a hotel boat in the Blue Flag (the magazine of the Dutch Barge Association). We met John Wilson, her owner and shared a couple of nights discussing boats and other associated topics. Meanwhile the great weather prevailed, prompting John to comment it was the best summer in three years. We have seen John several times over the intervening years as he travels slowly around France with groups of passengers on his do-it-yourself Luxemotor barge.
Tuesday 28 August
We were feeling pretty guilty about the lack of work we had undertaken in the past few weeks so began this day with a rush of resolutions and actions. Jay - the bath pump, engine works and some painting, Maureen - painting the study / office and the front cabin. Consciences appeased we relaxed over dinner with John and drinks later with a couple from Belgium.
Wednesday 29
The lost day. Somewhere we got out of whack with the diary and the actual days and this day appears to have been lost somewhere. It happens like that I guess. I am sure we enjoyed it, there were no calamities and it formed part of the important march of time we experienced on our journey. Its just that we lost it somewhere - it was not the last day to be lost - indistinguishable from its neighbours in a drift through time and place.
Thursday 30 August
On to Pont a Bar and Le Chesne, arriving there at 4.30pm to find a small town with a boulangerie operating (great - fresh bread), a small supermarket (no fresh milk) and a locked church. We looked for the restaurant but decided that we would eat rations. Tough choice given the great food we have on board from the lovely small, service oriented French magasins (shops).
We also decided to have a health night and stay away from the customary bottle of wine with dinner. We actually managed two health days in a row with the next day also ‘on the wagon’. These AFDs (alcohol free days) were taken occasionally to prove that we could do it. It makes you feel better in one way but is a waste if you have great food and wine to enjoy. One just has to go with the other - especially in company.
Friday 31 August
The day of the locks. 26 of them in only 8km !!!!! This is a true test of boat and crew as you idle from one lock almost straight into the next. We were caught behind a large, slow commercial barge and therefore had to wait at each ecluse for the water to return to our level in order to take us down the 2-3metres to the next lock. For the last 7 or 8 ecluses we also had the company of a small yacht that just fitted in behind us.
Doing that number of locks in a day is not recommended but once into a system like that you just have to continue. If you entered the system late in the day you would have to stop mid way and start again first light the next day as it is possible in such conditions to block traffic. However it is a tiring way to spend a day as it is all stop start, operating gates and ropes, stop start and repeat. It can also be a dreary pastime in rain or really hot weather. Fortunately there are not many places where such runs of locks exist.
Commercial barges have right of way on the canals and rivers as they are trying to make a living in difficult conditions. There are fewer of these Freycinet barges plying the canals of France these days as the cost of fuel and the fewer available cargoes make life precarious and penniless. We don’t decry them their priority - except if they are truly unreasonable - which can be the case.
We made our way to Attigny after the 26 locks, just a few more to get there and found a nice park beside the river with bollards, water and lighting. Unfortunately it was Friday night and the local teenagers had adopted the park as their drinking place (despite the police patrol - from which they hid their ill gotten gains), so the noise level and threatening presence was felt until about midnight. Made for a good night of reading ‘20,000 Thieves’ a book about Australian Diggers at war in Africa - they also caused headaches for the English officers.
This being Email night we were frustrated by the lack of reception and the inability of the Email program to get mail. We resolved to fix it when reception improved.
Saturday 1 September
A new month, my fourth in Europe. We departed Attigny for Asfeld and was met with a rather disappointing place. The river stop is isolated from the town and despite the town’s best efforts to provide a reasonable mooring, the facilities are a bit glum and distant from shops - of which there are few. We walked a fair way looking but decided it was a night at home.
Sunday 2 September
Cruised from Asfeld to Courcy where we arrived at 6.00pm. We decided we were too tired to explore and besides there was not much on offer so a quiet night at home. Van Nelle performing as beautifully as Maureen, the queen of the crew in the locks. My performance was a bit scattered at times.
I called the email service to find that the subscription to Ipass - the internet service overseas, had lapsed a couple of days before and that was the problem with the mail. Also, the phone credit was almost expended and the new card was not amenable to any of my attempts to load it. Very frustrating business, especially when the instructions both written and from the phone are in French, spoken so fast it is impossible for me to gather more than a fraction of their meaning.
Monday 3 September
Departed at 9.30am for Reims after calling Ozemail and getting Ipass reinstated. Another of the problems of communication here is the time difference and the appalling wait times imposed by service companies such as Ozemail. Most times their wait time for service or technical support exceeded 20 minutes. They will find that they will be deserted when there is a better service available. Perhaps we should emigrate to Hotmail with the rest of the world.
Arrival at Reims was through an industrial area and we contented ourselves with the thought that at least when we get to the Port de Plaisance there is sure to be a pleasant harbour in the centre of town. We arrived to find the only spaces for big boats taken and therefore power and water were not to be provided to us. We moved past the big commercials that dominated the port to the far end and moved in to the wall to moor. Maureen was gesticulating at me with a physical hieroglyphic that appeared to mean shallow water and it was. The boat came to a gentle halt, firmly held at the bow by the underlying mud. A quick prod with a boat hook confirmed about 2-3 feet of water at the wall, insufficient for Van Nelle’s 3-4feet.
We withdrew and heeding the advice of an old gentleman on the river side, moved past the marina to an area of low walls, bollards and a four lane highway. We were the only ship in the area but we tied up and went forth on bike to explore other possibilities. There appeared to be none so we decided to strike out for town and consider the future later. This we did with a visit to the Reims Cathedral - truly an awe inspiring building. Unfortunately, it is succumbing to the ravages of weather and car exhaust acid and can be seen to be disintegrating. Fortunately, large efforts are now being made to restore the crumbling exterior.
It slowly dawned on us that we were in our first important French city. We have travelled from the Netherlands through Belgium to France and in France to Champagne, with all the glamour and excitement that promises. We don’t know much about it yet as we have only seen the canal, the port and the freeway frontage from our mooring. Our brief visit up the road from the port to the Cathedral has just opened a crack on what we were to learn and discover by bicycle, scooter, taxi and multiple visits to this truly great city. And then there is the champagne.
We will be in or around Reims for the next week or two as Maureen goes off to Paris to meet up with friends and explore with them their wedding trip while I wait for our first guests - the O’Meara’s. Naturally one of my priorities was to visit and grade the champagne houses so we would not waste time visiting less than excellent places with friends. It was a tough job but one that I knew had to be done so I just got on with it !
Once again the phone had stopped working. This is a constant irritation that just adds to the frustration of the cost and the poor areas of reception. Fortunately we are in an area that has a French Telecom office with an English speaking assistant so we will be able to sort it out, but it does raise the question of continuing reliability or periods of lost communications. Perhaps that’s not a bad thing sometimes....
Maureen arrived back on Thursday having met up with Adrienne and Kerry, the newlyweds in Paris and having been with them to visit Monet’s Garden, house and a nice restaurant the previous day.
Picked up from the station (Gare) on the trusty Peugeot scooter we were back at the boat to discuss what we would do for some 10 days before the ‘first guests’ arrived. We decided that since we needed water and could do with some shore power to take the pressure off the generator for a while, we would travel up to Sillery where those services were apparently available and then come back to Reims for the welcome and beginning of the champagne tours.
We spent another four days expanding our knowledge of Reims (pronounced Razz strangely), making bits for the boat (Maureen made a sun cover for the skylight and I installed some light and pump switches) and doing some more exploring. We also had the phone problem fixed.
It seems that people try mixing up the fourteen numbers on the pre pay phone cards in order to try to get free time. I tried to enter a card that was suspect and so had used a number of attempts (you only have a certain number of unsuccessful tries). I bought another card and tried it a couple of times without seeming to have success and took it back to the Tabac (a small shop where such useful items as well as papers and tabacco can be bought) and the shopkeeper tried as well. This had seriously put me in doubt with France Telecom which had then suspended my number.
The assistant at the shop was sweet and helpful and finally got through to their service department and had the service re-instated. I was not too sure about the longevity of the fix and indeed it cropped up again a couple of days later. (As I wrote this from a distance of some weeks, we had no further problems and so were keeping our fingers crossed).
It may seem that what this trip exposes are all the problems of living and travelling in a different country and culture. These are however just the things that stick in the mind and should be balanced by the great feeling of joy that one has every day discovering new sights, sounds and tastes.
A couple of other activities brightened the otherwise cloudy environment. Our visits to try out the various champagne houses had us choose Mumm as our favourite and Piper Heidsieck as the most extensive tour. Pipers was just up the hill from us and for some 60 francs ($10) offered a tour with an English speaking guide who explained the process of champagne production in detail as you wandered their extensive tunnels under the streets of the City for an hour. It was then up to the tasting room for several small glasses of their product. Good value and very educational. Mumm (pronounced Moom) on the other hand was some distance away and the tour was conducted in electric chariots with a CD recounting the story as you passed mannequins in staged setups to illustrate the process. Then the trip to the tasting room and afterwards the exit through their shop.
We liked the brevity and range of product at Mumm, especially their ‘Extra Dry’ which is actually made slightly sweeter exclusively for the American market but is on taste and sale here at their head quarters. All in all we liked the product, the environment and the opportunity to explore at leisure.
While we were moored in Reims a commercial barge arrived and tied up right in front of us. I introduced myself to the owner who appeared to be on his own. I was itching to see the inside of these big commercial boats and offered him a look at ours if I could have a look at his. He somewhat reluctantly agreed to let me see his the next day and appeared to go into a flurry of activity to prepare his boat for my inspection.
The inside of the cargo area appears large from the outside but you really get to feel the enormity of it when you get inside. The equivalent volume of nine of the largest trucks is available for heavy, bulky material which the EU is keen to get off the roads. Into the engine room, confined but well organised and with a powerful and well tended power plant. Then into the living space which is really a small apartment with a bathroom, kitchen / dining / lounge and a couple of bedrooms, all very tidy. The surprise was that he had a wife and six year old daughter who we had not seen in several days. The owner does all the shopping and errands, outside work and running of the boat, his family appears to be almost hermits. I later discovered that her blackened and rotten teeth all had to be extracted which was a primary reason for them to be in Reims, not out working.
They came on a visit to Van Nelle and were spell bound by the comparative space and luxury of our facilities by comparison. I was saddened that these hard working people had so little opportunity to improve their lot. Bargees cannot earn enough for retirement in many cases and the French government allows them to live out their lives on their slowly deteriorating boats.
I learned a lot from that encounter such as, he had bought the barge for a great deal of money some years before as his father and grand father had both been barge operators. He admitted now that he could not sell the boat for a fraction of its original cost and had to keep operating it to just stay on top. The niceties of life such as medical and dental care, schooling for the boy and any kind of social life had long since vanished, not only because of cost but also since they were always on the move. When we left he was still at Reims without further work to go on to.
Tuesday 11 September !
We headed off to Sillery after seven days in Reims and having said goodbye to the family on the commercial barge, but just before we left the wife returned from a visit to a state dentist looking greatly relieved. It brings into focus the personal cost of these people keeping barge commerce alive.
A short cruise to Sillery and we were met with what was to become very familiar. Here was a new marina with water and power facilities standing empty with lots of berths for boats from 5 to 15 metres and none for boats of 20 to 30 metres. We improvised. First we had to turn around since the only place we could access the water and power was against the land on the inside of the marina - was it too shallow ? We edged towards the pontoon, Maureen on the bow with the short (5 metre) boat hook. When Van Nelle was abeam of the outer jetty Maureen took to the air with a water defying leap onto the pontoon and raced off to test the depth.
Thumbs up and I was manoeuvring the ship in reverse into the land side area which was fortunately free of small boats and (with the removal of a fisherman) just big enough for us to squeeze into. With some to-ing and fro-ing we squeezed Van Nelle’s bulk into a spot that should have been taken by a boat half our length and tied the bow to a hedge since there were no bollards that far from the mooring. We were however able to extend our electrical lead to the power outlet but since our water tanks are near the bow, our hose could not reach. I noticed the boat on the other side of the jetty had a hose, maybe we could borrow it, join them and get the water we now needed.
I approached the woman on the boat who nervously refused saying that her husband was not here and she could not give permission. Nothing for it I thought but to crane the scooter off the deck and ride back to Reims for a bricollage/quincaillerie (hardware shop) and buy an extension plus some different sized tap fittings. We had identified no possible suppliers locally so the trip was on. About an hour to get the scooter off, get to Reims, acquire the hose (which has now been use a couple of times - justifying its purchase) and back to Sillery. On the into the city however I was confronted with a sign that would lead me onto the motorway - a place a scooter, only capable of 60-65kmh was not supposed to go. I kept going round the round-a-bout and found another road leading traffic to the exposition site. I hopefully took that turn-off and was rewarded with the road that ran right beside the canal and past our previous mooring.
Sillery is a small town with a couple of champagne makers so we went to the most promising for a degustation (tasting) and a poke around. The patronne (a woman) was most accommodating and having tried their brut, we had to buy. For the rest of our stay of four days, we reverted to a round of odd jobs, a bit of exploration and a couple of conversations with the young and very friendly harbour master, who also had the job of community activities development for the town.
Maureen also gave me a hair cut ! A very attractive job it was too. That set the pattern and while away I never needed a hairdresser.
We went to the pub ( a local bar / café) on our first night and was surprised to see the men all glued to the television screen which had very bad reception. It appeared to be a horror movie or a special effects documentary with the same scenes being repeated over and over we thought until we tuned our ears into the spasmodic French phrases of the three or four patrons.
New York, 11 September, 2001.
With mounting horror we realised the planes destroying the twin towers was not an act of fiction and learned some of the facts from the bar flies but needed something more static to learn the details. The next morning we bought the two French newspapers and read the details as best we, and our dictionaries, could. We joined the rest of the world mourning the senseless loss of innocent lives in this divisive conflict and wondered what the eventual outcome would be.
During our time in Sillery we also visited a WWI war cemetery. About 1,000 neat graves are laid out with headstones for both French and Algerian troops. Behind the cenotaph however there are two concrete monoliths under which, proclaims the inscription, lie the remains of some 12,000 unidentified soldiers. These two elements of our time in Sillery seemed to underline part of the motivation of our journey of adventure. Life is short - make the most of it !
Saturday 15 September
Laurie and Marlene O’Meara are confirmed to arrive tomorrow and so we are off to Reims, and back to within metres of where we had left - having been urged along by the VNF (the French department responsible for canal navigation and maintenance) who wanted to repair the intervening section of canal. Our friend, the commercial bargee was still there and he happily leapt off his still empty behemoth to assist with our arrival and mooring. He was still waiting for news of work from the local agency which coordinates such matters.
That night we received a call from Helen and Ian Palmer, remonstrating us for forgetting Ian’s 60th birthday - Bonne Anniversaire Ian (again) and I was able to report that a special bottle of Palmer Champagne was on its way to him. I had found Palmer’s on the way to the main post office and on inquiry found they made a very high quality Millesime Brut which I bought, took to the Office de Poste and suitably packaged, sent to Perth. It was about a year later we discovered it had arrived but the bottle was smashed. Surprisingly the bottle top was not in the box and the accompanying brochure was undamaged by liquid. Much later we learned of the wholesale plundering of mail items by Australian postal workers.
Sunday 16 September
GAD - or guest arrival day - and after a phone call to confirm that they were safely on the train from Paris to Reims we planned for the meeting at the Gare de Reims at 2.00pm. We would go on the scooter and I would bring them back in a taxi while Maureen took the scooter to get baguettes for a late lunch. All was in readiness (as we had had several weeks to prepare).
The arrival was joyous but with a strange twist - they had arrived in Paris the day before from Spain and it being morning had thought to just transfer trains and come straight on to Reims - a day early. Their repeated calls to our phone (which was on) had no effect and they decided to take a hotel and come on the next day as planned. We still had not received the voice message left on the French Telecom service !
After a quick lunch - pâté, cheese, baguettes, salad and of course a Champagne, we headed out to the St Remi Basilica and on to Piper Heidsieck for a tour and tasting. St Remi’s remains are still in the sarcophagus in the Basilica which is in itself a beautiful church on a lovely park located up the hill from the canal. It was in this church that the early kings of France were crowned.
The champagne houses of Maxim’s, Taittinger and Piper are just a stones throw away so the journey by foot was easy and the rewards great as we signed up for the three taste special - the Brut, the Rose and the Millesime (vintage). The tour is conducted in remote control carts which take you through some of the 10 or so kilometres of underground caves (tunnels) that are filled with champagne slowly ageing and undergoing the second fermentation, the time the bubbles grow.
We learned that after degorgement (the time the dead yeast is removed from the bottle and the replacement ‘liquor’ - a mixture of old champagne and sugar - is added, the champagne actual begins to deteriorate since air is inevitably added. Drink champagne as soon as you buy it since a non vintage is good for a maximum of about 5 years and a Millesime about 10. The Millesime or top vintages are only pronounced in outstanding years and are still hand turned for a month or so to move the sediment to the neck before degorgement. The standard wines are rotated and raised to vertical by machines, but machines are not involved in picking, which is still done by hand.
We saw later the itinerant grape pickers at Epernay and a couple of the other small towns along the way. Gypsies mostly, dark, swarthy men, small, timid children and brazen, flashy women, all emerging from cramped caravans, van sized vehicles and squatter camps along the rivers and canals. Pickers are becoming harder and harder to recruit and we wonder what will happen when they are no longer sufficient in number to pick the crops. Perhaps machines will be tactile enough by then to take over but many of the vines are growing on what appears to be very steep hills on which it would be impossible for machines to operate. We will wait and see.
The vendage or picking season began on the 25th so we were still in the region to see the grapes start to move to the village crushers and then by truck, the juices transferred to the champagne houses in the cities or the hundreds of small producer’s ateliers in the villages. But that was later.
After sight seeing through the main areas of Reims for two days, we treated ourselves to dinner at Au Congres (a restaurant Maureen and I had enjoyed on our first night) and looked forward to our departure the next morning to Conde Sur Marne, our first stop in a champagne village with guests.
Tuesday 18 September
This was a BIG DAY. Some 28 kilometres to navigate with eighteen locks and a two and a half kilometre tunnel ! The O’Meara’s were up bright and early, looking forward to the day’s cruise. The weather was overcast and pretty cool but the rain held off - mostly. We left the mooring and went straight into the first of the three locks that take you out of Reims. With that experience Laurie and Marlene were keen to assist and soon learned much of the requirements of locking a big boat. Pretty soon Laurie was at the wheel displaying a remarkably good touch in keeping Van Nelle in the middle of the channel.
The canals look straight and well ordered to the novice but under the brown, murky waters lie shoals, rocks, discarded rubbish and banks of silt from collapsed banks. It is a foolish helms-person that strays too far from the centre - except when having to pass other boats coming in the opposite direction, and then it is done with much trepidation.
We arrived at Conde Sur Marne with the expectation of staying at the indicated pleasure boat stop. On arrival it was taken up with randomly moored boats of much smaller proportions that were all deserted. The opposite side of the channel looked promising as it was a VNF depot that now, at 5.00pm was deserted - we thought. It was a difficult approach and some to-ing and fro-ing was required to line Van Nelle up. Once we were almost ready to moor a VNF ‘Bonaparte’ emerged from a hut and in no uncertain terms warned us off. We left, thinking that he could have saved us a great deal of activity by coming out in the first place. Just around the corner however there was a fine wall at a silo with adequate bollards that suited us very well for the night
We had been without an Australian flag until now - except for a huge 3 metre version too big for a flag pole - but Laurie and Marlene came to the rescue with a beautiful small Aussie flag that fitted exactly on our mast. We decided to have a formal flag raising ceremony, and with the strains of the National Anthem playing the flag was raised. Surprisingly the CD player / home theatre system hiccupped a few times while blaring out the tune.
We settled down to a champagne and a quick walk through the village before dinner and bed.
The next day the stereo equipment decided to totally quit as did the Discman and the Walkman - no music. I assume they just did not like the power output from the inverter which apparently issues a rather square sine curve that some electronics can’t cope with !
Wednesday 19 September
A quiet and easy cruise this day took us to Tours Sur Marne and after rounding the corner into the town we saw the barge of Tam and Di Murrell, my barge teachers, here to conduct barge handling courses and rest in between students. I had taken my operator’s course and been guided through my Certificate de Capacite (French barge driver’s qualification) by the Murrells and was keen to introduce them to Maureen, Laurie and Marlene and to get up to date with the Dutch Barge Association of which they are stalwart supporters.
We locked through and tied up to the canal wall just in front of the town’s biggest employer, the cardboard box factory, leaving enough room for approaching and departing barges to pass, and quickly renewed our acquaintance. Tam and Di were expecting students the next day and had a dinner to go to that night so we agreed to meet for a drink later and have some more chat time at a later date. We also took their advice to visit the champagne house L’Amiable and possibly join them and their students the next day for a tour of the establishment.
We took the Murrell’s advice with a quick visit to L’Amiable and bought some of their product for later consumption. We checked out the nearby hotel’s restaurant and Laurie and Marlene booked us in for dinner. After drinks on board we had a very pleasant dinner and prepared for another day of exploration and tasting.
Thursday 20 September
After breakfast the gang took off to explore the village and look for the grave of Dom Perignon, who started this whole champagne industry back in the mid 1800s. The search for Dom was unsuccessful but we were rewarded by the views and a taste of the grapes growing abundantly near the village. We later discovered that the Dom’s grave is at a small village up the hill from our next stop in Cumieres.
At 4.00pm we met Tam and Di’s group of students and walked up to the champagne house of Dr L’Amiable with them. The youngish and very plump receptionist took us through the caves and production areas with her commentary in French being processed by Di and the students. Finally to the tasting room which warmed up considerably with the arrival of the winemaker and Patron himself. Not only the champagnes but also the Marc (a powerful digestif spirit) and Ratafia (an aperitif) were tried and much bought for later consumption. We retired to Van Nelle for dinner and preparation for out travel onwards to Cumieres the next day.
Friday 21 September
A sunny day but quite cold as we headed up the canal and onto the Marne river, now swollen by rain and carrying large amounts of debris, including whole trees. As we were travelling with the flow of the river, avoiding the logs, branches and other piles of flotsam was relatively easy and we made good time with the current running at about 8 km/h and Van Nelle’s engine adding another 8 to it.
A short distance through the champagne countryside, Cumieres swept into view around a corner. First we passed a doubtful paddle steamer, apparently used for tourist river trips but with the paddle a visual but not useful addition and then a rather abandoned looking small boat tied to the town pontoon. At the pontoon reserved for plaisancier’s (pleasure boats). we found positioned a large hotel boat. We had hoped to have the pontoon to ourselves but so long as the crew of commercial boats are helpful, being tied on the outside of them is not too much of an inconvenience.
We made a 180 degree turn as the current swept us past the pontoon and made out way back to ‘Lilubele’ the hotel boat. The crew appeared and helpfully took lines as we secured Van Nelle to her side. We were soon secure and the side door of the hotel boat was made available for us to move on and off our boat. Simon, the matelot, scurried up onto their roof to take our hose and electric cable which were soon in use topping up the water tank and the battery bank. Our crew then set off to explore as I stood watch over the water operation.
The crew re-appeared after an hour with fresh provisions for lunch and tales of great numbers of champagne houses throughout the town and even vines right down to the edge of the centre ville. The grapes, they reported, were plentiful and ripe and later we discovered they were the Pinot variety, used to add character and body to champagne.
Their search for Dom Perignon’s grave was unsuccessful but while they were out, Simon invited me to meet the crew and have a Pernod with them. A pre lunch aperitif. The boat was managed by an English girl, Charlie, and piloted by Daniel, a dark Frenchman. They were all remarkably young and very keen on the boat and their jobs. They planned a shopping expedition for the afternoon and soon headed off by taxi to shop and further fortify themselves for the arrival of twelve guests the next day. The company they work for, Continental Waterways, had twelve similar boats operating from Holland, Germany and France. The effect of 9/11 was to almost destroy the business as American tourism switched off overnight.
We planned another expedition for the afternoon and a roast that night as the local restaurant appeared expensive and plain.
Saturday 22
This morning we were met on waking by the sight of an impenetrable fog ! It looked like we would be in Cumieres longer than the day we had planned. Another issue for us was the fact that a tree had lodged itself across the bows of both boats during the evening and with branches locked on both sides of Van Nelle’s bow was not looking an easy task to remove. The combined strength of the crew of both boats was insufficient to budge it with ropes and boat hooks working hard to roll and push or pull it away against the still fierce current. We stopped to consider the options and my decision was to ease the lines so VN would slowly retreat away from the log which could be held by rope to Lilubele. As we were agreeing the precise detail of the operation, Laurie took one of our massive boat hooks and prodded on of the tree’s branches. As it appeared to move a little he gave it a more substantial push and managed to hit the pivot or key spot, as it dislodged itself fully and sailed off down stream. Relieved, we set about clearing up and getting our hoses and cables aboard as the sun was now burning the fog to mist and it appeared that we would be able to depart after all.
At noon the way was clear and we set off, now heading upstream through the turn-off to Epernay. We made good time with Van Nelle able to exert most of her 150 horsepower to push us along at 11 km/h against the now 5kmh current. Soon we had passed into the Epernay environs and we carried on upstream into the heart of the city and to the Society Nautique harbour. It appeared to be a fine place with tennis courts, a club house, boat house and facilities. We tied up and looked forward to a pleasant stay.
The obligatory exploration took us past the station (Gare) where we soon arranged the O’Meara’s train tickets for Paris for the next morning and then past the fine gothic church to discover the restaurant which had been recommended both by the Gault Millau Guide and previous customers. We booked for dinner and headed off to the centre of town, its markets and shops.
Epernay appeared to be a pleasant small city, very much the centre of champagne production, overlooked by the imposing tower and factory of de Castellane. Further back from the river bank we discovered Moet and Chandon. Where de Castellane appears to be the major force in town, boasting production of 3,000,000 bottles per year, it is dwarfed by the Moet & Chandon organisation which is at least 3-4 times the size producing 10 million per year. De Castellane has about 10 km of underground tunnels (caves) whereas M&C has some 24 in Epernay and large numbers of additional facilities outside the town.
We also called in to a Phillips showroom to see if there was a reasonably priced amplifier available to replace the broken sound system. They showed their wares and suggested that we might get a less expensive model at Carrefour the supermarket across the river. A quick trip there had a replacement Sony system bought and installed - we have music again !
That evening we headed out to the restaurant La Table Kobus for a very pleasant gourmet meal, accompanied by excellent wines and very graciously provided by Laurie and Marlene. We were starting to miss them already as their departure hour of nine the next morning grew near. The next morning came too quickly and soon we were walking to the station, trailing their suitcases and bags to meet the 9.00am train. As we arrived early we actually had them on an express train about 15 minutes earlier than their booking and they were soon installed in a compartment with luggage and all and we waved as they drew out of Epernay for their trip to Ireland.
We headed back to the boat and spent most of the day tidying up, doing washing and then taking a trip to de Castellane for a tour and tasting. It was the only drink we were to have for the next two days as we decided that a couple of health days were in order after the full on week we had just enjoyed. It is fair to say that we enjoyed the week as much or more than our guests who were a delight to have aboard. They left happy having been part of a working boat for a week gaining new experiences as they took up a generous share of the tasks - on the helm, the ropes and the operation of locks and mooring.
That evening an Email arrived from the lawyers who were handling a spurious claim by a disgruntled Kwinana woman who claimed - against the evidence of security and staff - that she broke an ankle at a concert managed by us some years before. That required a number of answers to add to the body of evidence mounting rapidly as the wolf pack of legals got into their stride for and against the claim.
Monday 24 September
We had decided to depart and so settled the account with the captainiere of the small port, an expensive place to stay as we discovered, as they charge 10 francs per metre per day. For Van Nelle that would have amounted to 540 francs - about $120 for two days mooring, some water and power. Fortunately the captain, a young woman, questioned our length suggesting 14 metres was more likely, so the eventual cost was almost halved.
We departed Epernay at about 8.30am with the plan to cruise south unless we met Tam and Di Murrell en route and had the opportunity for a meal with them. That was exactly the case since, as we arrived in Tours sur Marne, they were tied up at their previous mooring and had room for us ahead of their boat Friesland. They were resting between classes, were free of students but free for dinner. We issued our invitation and I set of to Epernay to buy supplies since Tours was shut. The scooter had me to Ay, on the way to Epernay, where the excellent supermarket and boulangerie were open. I was there and back within an hour with fresh supplies of food and wine and we prepared for a delicious dinner aboard.
Tuesday 25
An early morning fog the next morning delayed our start to noon but we set off into a lovely day en route to Chalons which, in the chart books, boasted fine facilities for pleasure boats. On arrival we passed through the town lock and turned into the lake like harbour somewhat cautiously as the other large boat moored outside looked as though it was on the bottom. Maureen prodded the bottom with the boat hook to discover a water depth of less than a metre. We had no option but to back out, turn around and head back through the lock to the disused commercial harbour we had passed on the way in.
We entered the channel and passed the point where we would tie up, disturbing some fishermen as we prepared to turn 180 degrees to enable us to depart easily. Unfortunately we discovered that the overhanging trees into which Maureen on the bow disappeared, really were on the side of the bank not overhanging it and the channel was not wide enough to allow Van Nelle to swing around. We very nearly became stuck fore and aft as our counter stern overhung the concrete dock but a determined shove by myself and a student from the nearby University had us back in the channel, now sporting a few broken branches.
We reversed back to the mooring and tied up with the prospect of having to reverse the boat through the channel, under a bridge to the stone entrance and without damaging the prop and rudder then to turn near the lock in order to carry on. We shelved our concerns until the next morning and set off to explore Chalons.
This is a thriving town at the extreme end of one of the three principle champagne growing areas and it sports a couple of wonderful churches, a busy covered marketplace and lots of old wooden framed houses. Very medieval and very pretty with a beautiful park, complete with statues of a pretty girl in various stages of dress (or undress) for the seasons she was portraying. Nearby this ‘Petite Jardin’ was a beautiful floral clock and one of two small rivers, the Mau, complete with swans. We stayed overnight and planned a visit to the market the next day.
Wednesday 26
Market day in Chalons brought out all the stall holders with a huge range of fresh food in the market hall and racks of clothes and bric-a-brac outside. We wandered through and waited until almost closing time to grab some bargains including a plump roasted chook and a coffee grinder with a ‘special discount’ and a bag of chocolate covered beans thrown in.
After lunch on the boat we returned to town to explore the small but interesting town museum with it’s statues by Rodin, lots of cathedral exhibits, a huge room full of stuffed birds and a gallery with a range of indifferent paintings. We were tailed by one of the three attendants who were having a pretty slow day as we appeared to be the only visitors.
On our way back to Van Nelle we decided to try a French movie and booked for The Officer’s Room which we saw at 6.00pm. A poignant story of young officers terribly disfigured by action in WWI and their recovery in a hospital at the patient hands of a skilled surgeon and dedicated nurses who helped them through the terrible mental and physical struggle to recovery.
Thursday 27
This day of departure had the challenge of the big reverse ahead of us. As it happened, with careful planning and gentle manoeuvring, the task was achieved a lot easier than expected and we faced up to the lock which had opened for us. A commercial barge was approaching us from the rear but was well back and another occupied the lock but was emerging. The two commercials obviously colluded over the radio however as the departing boat slid out of the lock it was positioned, very slowly, to cut us off and allow the other to pass us and go first into the lock.
Maritime rules require pleasure boats to make way for commercials if they are both waiting at the same time. In this case I was prepared to wait and had moved to the canal wall to secure VN but when the tactics of the two became apparent I became somewhat irritated and when the blocking barge made the mistake of opening up a small gap I took Van Nelle through it and into the lock.
As I slid past the blocking boat there was a lot of waving and shouting and the helmsman attempted to steer his stern in our way. Van Nelle and I however are made of solid stuff and I allowed out stern to give his boat a good whack as we passed. The other approaching boat now had to apply full reverse in order not to get caught up at the lock entrance. Meanwhile the eclusier - the lock keeper - who witnessed the whole event, shrugged, smiled and helpfully took our lines to assist us in.
Soon after the lock was closed and the filling process started a crew member of the other barge came rushing up to the eclusier to try to get him to put in a report against us - not that we had preceded them into the lock, since they knew that argument would not wash - but because we were using tyres as fenders. The rules state that you should not use tyres as they sink in locks and can cause damage to boats, but if you DO use them, then they have to be secured by two opposing lines - which ours were. So that didn’t wash with the lock keeper either. After a bit of mutual abuse the crewman left and soon after, we left the commercial well behind.
We arrived outside the Halte Fluviale (small boat harbour) in Vitry-le-Francois at about 6.00pm and found it was a small enclosure with facilities for about 4 small boats, occupied by two, one of them a Dutch couple we had met in Epernay and seen a couple of times on our travels. The only place available for us was on the outside of the harbour, opposite a factory and commercial boatyard and across a boat launching ramp. We moored up, putting additional fenders at the points likely to be in contact with the steel wall that protruded out from the canal side.
Once secured we departed on foot to explore the town and decided to have a drink at the Irish Pub and dinner at the grillade which offered pizza and pasta that was delicious and very cheap.
Friday 28
The next morning we chatted with Markus and Else, a Dutch couple we had met earlier and who were on their delightful boat in the little marina and made plans for a drink at 5.00 on board Van Nelle. As we planned lunch however another boat approached - a Beneteau First 30 with Australian and Japanese flags displayed. It became clear that the Aussie male skipper and Japanese girl crew were not going to have an easy time of mooring as they went aground on their approach. We came to their assistance by hauling them across the mud to tie up alongside Van Nelle and invited them to lunch.
Some hours and three bottles of wine later, we had learned that they had met in Kosovo where they worked for aid agencies and were taking a well deserved break. Steve, an ex property developer who had gone bust, taken up photography and finally reverted to his engineering background, had ended up in Kosovo. He bought his yacht in Holland and was heading with Akeyo to the Mediterranean for some warmth.
They, like us, had thought there were facilities like showers at this mooring and were disappointed. We offered the use of the shower and Akeyo took full advantage, staying under the hot water for some 18 minutes and 300 litres - about 6 times the amount we use for a shower. Steve was a great deal more economical and soon it was time for drinks - which inevitably turned into a takeaway pizza dinner with more wine - lots more wine.
Saturday 29
Rain - lots of it, made a hangover partly bearable and I stayed in bed till about 11.00am without any guilty conscience. We had apparently partied until after 1.00am and I had then fallen asleep in one of the chairs listening to music, a bad habit of mine after parties ! Once up I considered joining everyone’s hoses together to try to get water from the distant tap to our two boats but Markus and Else quietly departed before I got the plan into action and I’m sure our two hoses and Steve’s one would not reach. We both had sufficient water for the next couple of days so would wait until the next port to refill.
Some time later, I was disturbed from writing this journal by noises outside and popped up in time to see the barge Wilanka slowly head past. She is a big Dutch barge that had been in our sights at one stage as a possible purchase. Unfortunately they passed by without stopping.
We ventured out to the market later - just to allay our guilty consciences about not having had any exercise - but it was a desultory affair and we returned to the boat empty handed.
Sunday 30 September
Time to leave our somewhat haphazard mooring here on the outside of the little harbour, with the added challenge of getting Steve’s yacht out of the mud beside us and into the channel. It actually was a lot easier than we had anticipated and some shoving with a boat hook or two and a few extra revs of his little Yanmar engine and they were off towards the first of the locks.
We took our time to get organised to allow them to pass through the lock and have it ready for us to follow as we cannot fit in together. So about 30 minutes later, as we turned the corner of the canal on our approach to the lock, we were surprised to see their boat tied to the railing underneath the very wide railway bridge that guards the lock entry. We pulled alongside the towpath to the railing and went on foot to find out what the delay was. Their report was that the lock was not only shut and unmanned - but secured with a padlock !
We made phone calls to the local and Paris office of the VNF (Voies Navigable de France) only to be told that it was Dimanche (Sunday) and so the lock was closed. This is not what is indicated in any of the navigation books and is a new one to all of us as it certainly does not occur anywhere else. So, we made our way back to the outside of the marina and Steve’s yacht was again pulled alongside through the mud and we hunkered down for another day in Vitry.
Maureen and I went for a long walk with cameras and a bag to collect leaves for her new artistic arrangements. We explored the nearby dry dock for barges, where two behemoths were sitting high and dry being painted (actually low and dry) and took some pics of picturesque nautical wrecks on the side of the canal. We had Steve and Akeyo over for dinner and planned an early start for the morning.
It is very unusual to see Japanese on the water but Akeyo and Steve became an item in Kosovo and so she followed him as he went on his nautical adventure. Steve was a fit and energetic 50+ and Akeyo about 30, tall with extremely long, lustrous black hair, much of which found its way into our plumbing from her two very long showers aboard Van Nelle. Their little yacht did not have such a convenience. God knows how she kept her coiffure in condition in the wilds of Kosovo at that time of war.
Steve had never owned a boat let alone sailed one but bought a yacht since it seemed a practical choice for the Mediterranean. Much later we heard that while in one of the Med ports he befriended some American naval types and took them out sailing. Actually it was the other way around - they took him sailing and he observed, learned from them and soon after - sailed off into the sunset.
Monday 1 October
The day started out rainy and windy as we set off for the first of about 15 locks for the day. Getting Steve’s yacht off and running again proved easy and we followed soon after. Unfortunately, despite our early start a couple of other boats had started earlier and there was now a delay before every lock. We wanted to make St Dizier that evening but as the day wore on it became a race against the clock as we were last in the line with a painfully slow commercial in the lead, not giving anything away. Most of the day we spent leaving one lock and then just drifting towards the next one at no more than steerage speed and still having to wait up to 30 minutes before our turn. This sort of travelling is painful and not really all that good for engine and gearbox as you have to engage and disengage the gears frequently. VERY frustrating but the Baudouin motor and gearbox responded without complaint.
About half way through the afternoon we allowed a yacht with a German crew past us to team up with another yacht ahead to eliminate one extra locking and that ended up slowing us down by just enough so that when we approached the last lock of the day - the barrier to St Dizier - it was 10 past 6.00pm and the lock was shut. We were therefore the ONLY boat stranded in a section of canal alongside a French air force base. The sides of the canal were shallow with a gravel base at about 1 metre or less and the only suitable place to moor for the night appeared to be a turning area back about 300 metres.
I reversed Van Nelle the 300 metres and attempted to turn into the turning bay. The wind, which had been strong all day and had caused a lot of manoeuvring already was now at full blast and not shielded by trees. It took a great deal of backing and filling to get lined up and then as we approached the wall inside the area we ran onto mud that had been allowed to build up over time. Fortunately we were not stuck hard as I had approached the area cautiously and we were able to back out and head across to the other side of the canal to the shallow wall. I managed to get the bow into the wall and Maureen secured us to it while I went in search of a log to prop the stern out from the shallow gravel. I found a suitable branch, secured it at the stern and tied us up for the night using our two 3 inch diameter water pipe mooring stakes driven into the clay banks with our new heavy sledge hammer. That worked a treat and nothing would have moved us - if anything had still been moving on the canal - which of course was not the case.
Tuesday 2 October
I was up at 6.00 and after a 10km ride into town to discover where we would moor, we were through the lock at 7.30. I had discovered a large concrete pier with suitable bollards just through the third lock just past the place where Steve and the German yacht had stopped for the night. This was a good find as it enabled us to call up a fuel truck which arrived at 2.00pm to fill our tank. But first....
Having arrived and secured the boat we set off into the rather pretty town to get cash to pay the fuel company which we had contacted by phone. They did not use credit cards and at this stage we did not have a French cheque account. I found a bank with a cash machine and put in my card. The transaction was nearly complete with the machine having accepted the card and the pin number. It sounded like it was counting the money when a notice appeared saying "your card has been retained for security reasons" and the machine shut down. At this stage I had not checked to see if Maureen was nearby and when I looked I realised that I must have turned the corner to the bank unseen by her as she was not about. I couldn’t leave to find her as I had to enter the bank to retrieve the card.
“Sorry”, said the teller, “the card has to be returned to your bank for security reasons”. “But I am Australian, on a boat and this is the only means of getting cash - besides the fact that my bank is half a world away”. ‘Je suis desole’ was the reply ! I was getting ready to scream (or cry since I had observed that seems to work for girls) when the younger teller referred me to the manager who reluctantly took his keys into the security room which held the machine. After some time he re-appeared, red faced and without the card and then hurried outside. Some time passed and I sighted Maureen on the other side of the square, disappearing in search of me. I still couldn’t leave.
The manager re-appeared and conscripted another colleague and they split up, one inside observing while the other went outside. Time went by but no card. I went outside to watch and the other chap told me to stay at the machine (now ‘Out of Service’) and to grab the card if it re-appeared. Some time passed with the machine offering only a symphony of clicks, whirrs and whistles. Eventually the edge of the card popped into sight and I grabbed it and fought the machine for possession. I won fortunately, and took the card into the bank to do the transaction over the counter. Nope - no way - see ya later !
I left empty handed and searched for another bank to try again as I had to have the cash for the fuel.
Just down the road a CIC bank was open and I made my way to the counter to ask for assistance. Fortunately I found a sympathetic assistant manager who took me into her office to transact a cash advance. A phone call to the credit company and four thousand francs was mine. Did I want more ? She inquired - I decided to take what I had and try to find Maureen. No luck there - so back to Van Nelle to leave a note. While writing the note a somewhat confused - not to say distressed Maureen turned up and, having explained and settled down we set off back to the supermarket to purchase lunch and other necessities. It was now 10 to 12.00 - almost time for the shop to shut so we were given a stern look and reminded as we entered that we had no time to lose.
Back on the boat I had another challenge to overcome as I had discovered that the fuel filter was now leaking and I needed a new washer to stem the dripping. First to find a workshop, then to explain what I wanted. A few minutes with the dictionary and I had the words I needed. I had seen a shop that appeared to have what I needed on the road to town but my inquiry revealed he had no suitable washers. He did however point the way to another atelier (small factory) which I found and explained what I needed. They kindly rifled through their stocks and found a couple of small but likely matches. I tried to pay but they would have none of it.
This was to become a repeated experience belying the denigrating comments often made of the French. Through our five years we had many similar experiences where locals would assist without expecting anything in return. I headed back to the boat to change washers.
Unfortunately the hole in the middle was too small. I tried drilling one out and only succeeded in wrecking it. The other one acceded to my insistent drill and I managed to fit it. Unfortunately it still did not seal sufficiently and I was presented with a continuing drip. This would have to be rectified later.
The fuel truck arrived at 2.00 and delivered the 500 litres I had ordered. There was room enough for another 50-70 litres and I suggested taking more but the driver refused saying that the office only gave him enough to fill the order and no more - Oh well. I paid and he left. Now all we needed was water and we would be completely replenished. No taps at the back of any of the factory buildings that abutted the canal so we would have to wait for another opportunity.
We visited the local hotel for lunch and were served the biggest rolls filled with ham and chicken with chips on the side. Later we visited a canal side bar with the name ‘Navigator’s Bar’ for a couple of beers until another customer arrived with a dog big enough to eat both of us and our sandwiches and still have room for the puppy that had been frolicking on the bar floor. We left before pooch became interested in us rather than the barman.
Wednesday 3 October
We departed at 0800 as arranged since on this and subsequent stretches of canal we were to be accompanied by a travelling lock keeper. It was not much fun for the two young guys who took it in turns to open the lock gates allowing us in and then operating the sluices to fill and empty the locks as we made our way through a dismal day of rain. We paid each a small tip and gave one a banana and the other an orange at lunch time. They made the day very easy and very quick for us so that we arrived at Joinville - our chosen destination - at 3.00pm. On arrival we were met by Steve and Akeyo who had arrived not long before us.
Joinville boasts a port which has a wall with bollards (not enough) and water (from an ancient pump). Getting the water required stuffing a hose into the enormous delivery pipe and filling the area around it with cotton waste, well packed into the void. Then, after connecting a number of hoses together and watching over it all for about 4 hours the water was slowly delivered. There was no power here nor showers so Steve’s girlfriend Akeyo was not a happy girl. We had a curry dinner and a chat with them and discussed future moorings and meeting places as they planned to leave the next morning.
On a walk into the nearby industrial area the next morning I discovered another factory that had copper washers and again they handed over two, refusing to take payment for them. One did the trick pretty well and the slow tide of dripping fuel was stemmed.
Thursday 4 October
Steve and Akeyo left but later in the day Richard and Linda Neville arrived on their very pretty barge. Richard had been on Tam and Di Murrell’s PP course with me at Cambrai the previous October. They have a lovely Tjalk which had seen them through a winter in Bruges and a cruise through the south of France. They were now en-route to their second winter in Bruges. We looked over each other’s boats and arranged for a scratch dinner on board theirs.
The next day at the Tourist Office I tried to book a conducted tour of the town’s historic buildings, as their brochure advertised three different walking tours. Sorry they said, we only do them in French and not in October and besides the monuments are all closed for winter. Fortunately that was not the case with the Chateau de Grande Jardin so we headed there to wander happily through the magnificent gardens and beautiful old building. Built as a pleasure house for one of the Dukes of Joinville, it had been converted to apartments and finally abandoned before being bought and converted into a performance facility by the prefecture. The interior of the building has been turned into a large room with smaller galleries at it’s ends and underneath, a sort of bar for intervals. We were able to just wander about unheeded and afterwards found a marvellous wine map of France in their gift shop. We left and went on to wander the town shopping squares and discover the pretty church with it’s monuments to Jean d ‘Arc and the Dukes of Joinville, who unfortunately died out with the death of the final (five year old) descendant.
Above the town are the ruins of another fortified chateau so we bravely rode up the steep path, having to leave our mountain bikes half way in order to ramble over the ruins. Unfortunately there is almost nothing left of the chateau and I suspect the locals have carried away the stones to build or extend their own houses as they did from many estates during the revolution. We discovered some low walls but not much of a view as trees have overgrown the site.
Roger and Linda, another English couple arrived on their pretty wooden, clinker built boat Hoivande. Roger we discovered operates deep sea submersibles (remote submarines) from oil rigs in the North Sea and, as he works a few weeks on and a lot of weeks off, he and his Canadian wife have plenty of time to cruise the canals.
We also tried my Visa card in another bank cash ‘distributeur’ but under the watchful eyes of the bank manager who was amazed to see it be swallowed up and then to send the machine ‘Out of Service’. He managed to open the machine and retrieve the card which he then tried on his desk top card reader. It was given a very bad report and he suggested we have it replaced. Fortunately I had kept my previous duplicate card which now stands between us and starvation.
We spent the rest of the day taking pictures and buying a few odd bits and pieces for forthcoming meals.
Friday 5 October
His was a lovely day to do a long cruise as we had 50km and 20 locks to navigate to our next planned stop at Chaumont. In this part of France the eclusier (lockkeeper) accompanies the boat by scooter or car and we were accompanied on this sunny day by first an older, very quiet woman and next by a younger, quite chatty femme. Despite the lovely day, scenery and easy time through the ecluses, navigating 10 hours from 8.00am until 6.00pm without a break is a tough day and by the end of it we were just able to get a meal and hit bed. It was on occasions like this that we praised the quality of the Dutch mattresses we had furnished Van Nelle with. Many of our guests commented on how good the beds were. Semi sprung foam mattresses on a slat base in every case.
As we arrived at the next port it appeared that due to earlier arrivals, there would be little room for Van Nelle and we actually tied the boat at an angle behind a VNF tug on the outside of a projecting part of the steel wall. This area was just outside the rather pretty (but pricy) marina quai which had power and water supplied. There were no facilities near us so Maureen tactfully negotiated for a couple of the other boats to move to make room for us. That was quickly done and Van Nelle moved to a far more suitable place, next to all facilities. An annoying habit of many part time boaters is their insistence on leaving half a boat length between their boat and the one fore and aft, effectively reducing the number of boats that can fit. This seems to be especially prevalent among those from large populations in very small countries.
Steve and Akeyo were here as well as our new Dutch friends Markus and Else and Roger and Linda. This looked decidedly dangerous from a health perspective as we had previously discovered how keen this lot were on tasting ‘just another bottle’ late into the night.
Saturday 6 October
Refreshed by a good night’s sleep we emerged to explore. M set off on the scooter as Chaumont is some 3 km distance, up a somewhat forbidding hill. While she was away I fiddled with grease guns as I had noticed a small amount of water coming into the bilge from the stern gland.
My first mate (read captain) arrived back with descriptions of a town with pretty, old buildings, small squares, a pretty church and a market. We mounted the scooter and set off up the hill in search of new discoveries. Parking the scooter outside the Jesuit College we wandered through the main part of town and admired 16th century houses and shops and ornate, other buildings. We heard sounds of an organ from the church and entered to find an organist rehearsing for a 3.00pm concert on Sunday. We decide the concert sounded like a thing to attend and wandered through the church, inspecting the reliquaries of their St Jean and others.
Reliquaries are something I had not encountered before. Many churches and especially cathedrals have vaults which hold jewel boxes or crosses with glass inserts displaying within a small fragment of hair, bone, dried skin or other grisly body parts. These are said to be parts of the dead saint, dissected and distributed to provide heavenly blessings on those who observe and pray to them. A bit primaeval I would have thought , if not irreligious, worshipping body bits.
We went back to the boat after buying supplies at a supermarket and lovely cheeses and sausages at the market to arrange drinks with the gang at 5.30. This inevitably turned into dinner at the nearby restaurant, a merry affair which left me with a hangover and an admonishment from my captain about the amount of ‘fun’ (wine) I was consuming. I will have to curb my thirst in future - although to be fair it was the two glasses at lunch, added to the three aperitifs and four at dinner that had me undone - or was it just that last glass ?.
Chapter Four - Burgundy
The pattern of life is now starting to emerge. While we are still in far too much of a hurry, the key ingredients of this life are; travelling, discovering new places to stop, exploring, meeting people and developing stronger friendships, food, wine and fun. Interspersed in all this hedonistic pleasure are the occasional problems with boats, le systeme Francais and the resources we depend on such as internet, phones, banks and mail. But the key and best ingredients of this life are definitely the people and the times spent with them.
During this part of our journey we had by chance come upon a group of fellow travellers who were to play a part in our lives for the best part of the month as we leapfrogged each other down the canals and river to St Jean de Losne. Occasionally there would be additions to the group and sometimes a couple would be missing as they went ahead or stayed behind, but by the time we had meandered into St Jean de Losne the group had reformed and added a couple of extras. Several of these characters were to intertwine through our lives for the next four years and longer.
But I digress from the day to day occurrences aboard Van Nelle.
Sunday October 7.
I woke on this Sunday to a somewhat painful hangover and almost no recollection of the last half of the preceding night. I found later (to my advantage) that most of the others were in a similar state and (to my disadvantage) that Maureen was not one of them. Eminently sensible, M had slowed her intake during dinner so that she could adequately be my conscience in the morning, a job she excels at. I had been admonished for my waywardness earlier, even before I ventured off to the scene of the previous evening’s fall from grace, the restaurant where I was to pick up the croissants that we had ordered for breakfast. This ability to order bread and other pastries, milk and some other stores from isolated restaurants is a useful arrangement found in a number of waterside stopping places. The local restaurant lures you in one way or the other for mutual benefit.
We had a slow day attending to the accumulated emails and then headed off to town for the organ concert. It turns out that this was the annual concert of the children taking lessons from the village organist and the talent included 6-8 year olds, hardly able to reach the keys let alone the pedals and an older child (sex unidentified) with quite a well developed technique. On balance however the ‘concert’ was akin to an end of school performance, but fun nevertheless.
Before heading back to the boat we wandered the streets and came by chance on the municipal museum which, like many French town museums, had an archaeological section and a special area representing local industries. This town’s industry had been glove making, at which hundreds of local people were employed. Unfortunately, with the demise of gloves as a fashion necessity, the factories had closed and the town diminished. After taking in the history and technique of glove making in detail we headed back to the boat to try a cure for the previous evenings revelries.
As we were all planning to leave the next day the group gathered on the canal side garden to just spend some time in the sun chatting before retiring for an early night.
Monday 8 October
We departed at 0800 for Rolamport where we arrived after a long day at 1600 (4.00pm for those not up on the 24 hour clock so loved by the French - except there it was ‘seize heures’). We had time to explore a little after arrival at the town jetty which was furnished with power and water outlets. We had come to understand that many of the French towns encouraged boating tourism by the provision of water points and electricity outlets at their petite ports. This is not so in many other countries and is a welcome feature of cruising in France as it takes the pressure off your boats systems and reduces noise and pollution.
Rolampont is a small ville set in typical farming countryside, quite pretty and useful as a stop en-route to some of the more inviting towns in the region. Steve and Akeyo were already at the halte fluviale so we had a pasta dinner and a few local wines on board Van Nelle.
Tuesday 9 October
We departed Rolampont for Langres at 0900 and arrived at 1200, lunchtime for the French, just in time to see the shops all shut (why is it that this happens over and over again?), The boulangeries however take pity on all and sundry and stay open most of lunch time (dejeuner) - obviously some French let business get in the way of lifestyle.
Langres was a key target as the guide books all gave it high points. The downside is actually an upside here since there is a 2 kilometre climb up hill to the town which is mostly inside the old fortifications which are in extremely good condition. This is fortunate for the inhabitants as you discover on reaching them that they provide the outer walls of many homes which circle the town. Ranged along the walls at intervals are medieval gates and towers where armies of the past fought off attackers with boiling oil and bundles of arrows. On the far side of the town is a large building, proudly proclaiming itself a foremost museum of 14th century histoire - closed of course !
We rode our bikes up the hill to the town, quite a feat and only made possible by the 21 gears provided by Mr Shimano the great god of bicycle gears. Actually we would have rather taken the scooter but we moored with the starboard (right) side of the boat against the quai so were unable to use the winch to get the scooter off and it was too far to reverse to a turning point, this part of the canal being too narrow to turn Van Nelle.
Later we developed a technique to address this shortcoming, using our passarelle (gangplank) from the cabin top to wheel the scooter off.
Having bikes enabled us to see a great deal in a short time and at close quarters but access becomes a problem when streets become pedestrian malls, tiny narrow streets chock full of boutiques, boulangeries, pharmacies, tabacs and other specialists - plus the people of course. We chained the bikes in the centre ville and set off on foot to visit the eglise (a wonderful and big church with another grand organ, being tuned). Outside, a renaissance house and the shopping precinct dominated the scene.
We ran into Steve and Akeyo in town and suggested having a lamb roast that evening so set off to the boucherie to get a led of lamb. We discovered that lamb was not so easy to get at the butchers and is very expensive when found. On this occasion we found a small leg in a boucherie and asked for it. The ‘serveur’ rattled off some French and disappeared out the back door to reappear after a few minutes with the lamb meat parcelled up with string but sans (without) bone ! They had boned the leg making it almost useless as a leg of lamb. We paid with rather wooden smiles and immediately set off to search for another leg. Fortunately we found a supermarket and in looking for vegetables and other necessities I discovered a freezer chest full of New Zealand legs of lamb ! Et Voila !
Having completed the exploration and shopping we set off - now rapidly - down the 2 km hill, back to the boat. Terminal velocity is reached at about 35-40kmh after about 100mtres so the downhill trip was both a lot shorter and a great deal more exciting !
That evening the lamb (both parts) were welcome by us and Steve, as he had not had a roast for ages. Akeyo was very polite. I’m not sure whether she enjoyed it or just hankered for sushi. The wine however was enjoyed by all.
We made a point of laying in some very good wines from the major vineyards of France for special dinners. Burgundian Pinot, Bordeaux Merlot / Cabernet Sauvignon and the big shiraz wines of Chateauneuf du Pape for the reds and the Montrachets, Sancerres, Chablis, Mersault and other Chardonnays of the Bourgogne region among others. These are brought out, the reds decanted a couple of hours early and all enjoyed from big tasting glasses with some of the rich foods of France. Succulent lamb, rabbit, beef and chicken.
Wednesday 10 October
Steve and Akeyo left at 0800 as they were still racing against the schedule of chomages (closure of locks for repairs and maintenance that are carried out from November through to March) in order to get to the Mediterranean. This strategy was not all that successful however as after a couple of days, Akeyo would get a strong need for a shower and since they did not have one on the boat, Steve would have to stop for a couple of days at a civilised halte fluviale to honour her wishes. By that time we would catch up and another couple of days would be spent having a good time.
We (foolishly ?) took the bikes back up the hill to Langres, since the phone had thrown another wobbly and we needed a France Telecom office to sort it out. I left film in the one hour shop and took the phone off to be fixed while Maureen took one of the bikes to the bike shop for new brakes - guess whose ? The idea off speeding out of control down the hill had provided the motivation.
On return to the quai, the power was not working and investigation identified our power cable had been cut through by the action of a passing barge squeezing it between the quai and the ship. There must have been a bit of a pop when it cut but as we were not there we didn’t notice it. No other damage being a result, the cable was spliced and put back to work.
Langres is the home town of Diderot, the French philosopher, but there is little on show to give the visitor an understanding of his work. The regional museum was however open on this day so we spent a couple of hours among Roman ruins, the town collection of art and explanations of the development of the town and region architecture and industry. We also spent some time photographing the surrounding district from this imposing hill, from which - they say - you can see Mont Blanc on a clear day. I find that a bit hard to believe as Mont Blanc must be hundreds of kilometres away.
Another exciting ride down the hill - now somewhat safer for M with her new brake pads.
Marcus and Else had now arrived and as Roger and Linda also showed up is was time for another dinner aboard VN. While everyone brought stocks there were still significant holes in the house wine stocks on the morrow. This dinner went on till 1.30 - but what the hell, there’s no pressing business to be done on a Thursday.
The Morrow was Thursday, 11 October - a foggy day.
This week has been mostly brilliant weather with cool clear days and only a few drizzly patches to cloud otherwise fine conditions. The morning fogs however are becoming a regular occurrence and can delay departures for some hours on days scheduled for travel. We had decided to slow down a bit so had to ride to the next lock to advise the eclusiers. Explanation. In this region, for some reason, each boat is accompanied by an eclusier on a moped (scooter). They scoot ahead and prepare the lock and operate it as you enter and leave, then repeat the performance. This happens all day if you are travelling some distance but at certain points a new eclusier from the distant town will take over from the one who has started the trip with you. This way they do not get too far from home.
We started off paying a tip at the end of each sector as the weather to start with was pretty vile and while we could duck into our wheelhouse, they had to stay outdoors during the whole trip. This practice however looked like getting quite expensive so we quit paying when the weather improved. Since the service did not reduce we figured we were in the clear and continued not paying.
So I was on my bike to advise the VNF that we would not be starting early when on arrival at the next lock I found 3 eclusiers and 2 frogmen, a couple of VNF officers and other odds and sods all standing around a half open lock door. Seems there was something blocking the door from opening or closing, so we would not have been going too far anyway. Turns out it was a tyre being used as a fender by a commercial boat ! I explained that we would not be coming through at the time we had previously arranged and, all being happy with that, we agreed to meet the next day. Actually, they are pretty flexible about schedules but it is best to keep on their right side or long delays can result.
We spent the day doing beaut things like washing and shopping (only half the way up the hill) at a closer supermarket.
Friday 12 October
I was woken at 4.00am by the sound of a loud pop and gurgling running liquid noises. God I thought, what’s leaking ? Are we sinking ? Has the hull been breached ? That is not a sound you want to hear on a boat !
I leapt out of bed and searched the boat for a leak or broken water pipe and came up dry. This mystery had to be solved as those sorts of sounds can often lead to a case of very wet feet ! I redoubled my search until I slipped on a patch of floor boards in the gloom. Snapping on all the lights I quickly traced the problem. The bottle of ‘flower wine’ we had been conned into buying at a local fete some days and villages earlier had obviously undergone secondary fermentation in the bottle while on board. The standard wine cork was unequal to the task of containing the now pressurised liquid, which ejected across the floor. Some time was spent mopping up and washing the area to eliminate the somewhat strong floral and alcohol smell before returning to bed at 5.00am.
Up at 7.00 for an early start only to be met by impenetrable fog. We would have to wait till there was enough visibility, which occurred just before 1000 and we caste off for Dommarian where we arrived after a long day, at 1700. While commercials operate through fogs, they rely on radar which we don’t have. It would be more than a surprise to be met by an oncoming boat at a distance of a few metres on a foggy day. Better to stay in port till you can see 50 or more metres ahead.
This section of the canal included a tunnel of 4.8km, a flight of 8 locks with a total of 17 in the day over a distance of 25km. As we approached the tunnel I asked M to switch on the floodlight that is installed on the mast. Nothing. 500 metres. Check the power outlet with a lamp. OK it works. 300 metres. Try the floodlight again. Nothing. 200 metres. Take off the cover off and check the filament. Broken 50 metres. Well, I hope the tunnel lights are working.
At a previous tunnel the lights were significantly absent during our passing and turned on full as we exited. I switched on all the navigation lights and issued a powerful torch. We entered the tunnel and as we did, fluorescent lights extending the whole distance flicked into life. M was much relieved and we sailed through the cold ‘sous terrain’ experience with only one or two light contacts with the side walls. These contacts are not a danger as the walls are liberally coated with grunge but can be an issue if the arched roof of the tunnel comes in contact with the overhand of the boat’s wheelhouse roof.
It is extremely difficult to keep concentrating 100% through a long tunnel and the conditions are more taxing than a normal canal. The passage is only 5 and a bit metres wide and the hemispherical shape threatens the coach roof. Suction, caused by the propeller sucking water from under the boat, affects the stern, pulling it to one side or the other as soon as you stray off dead centre and applying power makes it worse. Once glued by suction to the wall and rubbing down it’s side, it takes what seems like ages to get the boat unstuck by reducing or cutting power to angle the boat away.
Finally we were through but almost immediately came face to face with a ‘flight’ of locks. This is an area where a great height has to be scaled in a short distance. Normally the standard Freycinet locks are spaced at least a couple of kilometres apart and rarely exceed 3 metres height each. In flights, a number of locks (in this case 8) are placed one immediately connected to the next and their wall height can be 5 or 6 metres, making them difficult to secure the boat to as you have to throw your ropes onto bollards high above your head and sometimes out of sight.
Once, while idly walking along a lock wall to observe a boat come through, I was almost hit by the end of a rope thrown from below. The thrower could not have had any idea of where the bollard was. It was nowhere near me and when their rope had been thrown he was not aware of my existence, he was just trusting to luck. On another occasion I was greatly amused by a rope, tenuously held aloft by a boat hook being poked over the edge from below. Again, the owner was trying blind luck since he had no idea of the placement of the bollards. I would love to put a fish in the loop at the end of the rope and throw it back onto the boat below.
Arriving at Dommarian we took our usual walk through town but everything was shut, including the church. We retreated to the boat and planned the next day’s trip while eating stored rations.
Saturday 13
A sunny day with a trip planned of 24km and 24 locks. This is a busy kind of day. At 6kmh, 24 km without locks would take 4 hours. Each lock takes a minimum 15 minutes without delays, therefore 24 locks are going to take about 6 hours for a total trip time of 12 hours. Locks shut at 1800 so that requires a start at 0600 to achieve your aim, or, you have to beat the averages. We cheat by slipping along at about 8kmh, cutting the time by an hour and scorch through the locks at better than average time as we are prepared to assist the eclusiers. This doesn’t work however if held up by boats in front or coming towards us.
On this day we left at 0800 and reached Blagny on a beautiful day without delays. On arrival we found absolutely nowhere to moor with the time after 5.00pm. We had less than a hour to find something further along. After 2 more locks and some 7km we came to a silo with a solid concrete wall inhabited by two fishermen. Looks lonely but safe - we’ll take it. As we approached the fishermen raised their feet, pulled in their holding nets and recovered their lines but did not move - rather like someone being vacuumed around. We manoeuvred the boat past them and secured for the night. The area and the time precluded an exploration so we settled in to make a barbecue dinner and rest.
After retiring we were woken by the sound of torrential water gushing somewhere. Was it the water tanks ? A hole in the hull ? Fortunately neither. It seems the town has a pump of some kind that lets loose about a thousand gallons every 40 minutes from an outfall situated right at the side of our boat. I decided to live with it and settled down to a somewhat noise interrupted night’s sleep.
Sunday 14 October
On to Pontailler - a distance of only 14km with only 5 locks (ecluses), a nice day’s travel and if timed right, the perfect way to enter a good mooring as those who have decided to move on are now gone from the quai, leaving it vacant for your arrival. We arrived at 1130 to find a small opening to the Port de Plaisance with a sign boasting a head height of 3.0metres and inside a single long quai on which we could have moored. Since the entrance was on the river and the river level was low, the head height looked OK, so long as the river did not rise, trapping us inside with our 3.4 metre head height.
We considered it for a few minutes before deciding the whole thing looked dubious as the only way out for us would be to reverse through the small entrance. So what was the answer ? The alternative was a terraced concrete quai fronting onto the river with what appeared to be adequate rings, stanchions and bollards. Obviously a halte for barges in the past so we chose the quai and headed in cautiously, checking the depth. It was just OK for us at one end of the structure so we came alongside and secured Van Nelle before closing her down and heading off to explore.
It was lunch time and while the town obviously had some features to discover, the cute hotel right at the riverside had a restaurant which looked inviting pretty inviting for a long Sunday lunch. We considered that option for about a millisecond and soon were settled into a lovely 5 course set menu.
The menu (cost 120 francs excluding wine - about $A 30) had some options. I chose the pate de maison followed by a meat dish, cheese and desserts. First arrived an appetiser followed by a big basket of bread and a whole pot of pate. It was an invitation to eat as much as you wanted and was only reluctantly returned to the kitchen when the main course arrived. The wines were pleasant and the service friendly and country slow. I committed the same faux pas I had done in Cambrai a year earlier substituting the word pres for pressé in the sentence "Vous et tres pres Monsieur" to the wait person meaning ‘you are very busy’ but actually saying ‘you are very close’. Maureen swore he didn’t hear me but I believe he stood well back from then on and seemed reluctant to serve more wine. Ah well the vagaries of a different language and its indifferent user.
We had to take a very long walk after lunch and turned up many delightful views in this bustling little village. As we rounded a corner we came upon a group of men and boys playing boules (AKA petanque). We watched for some time and were asked to join in but never having hefted a boule, decided against it. There was a young boy they brought in from time to time to smash the opponents boules away from the jack. He could not have been older than 14 but was devastatingly accurate.
This is a simple game where players toss up to three heavy steel balls at a smaller ball that is thrown out on stony, level ground by the winner of the previous round. He decides the order to start or follow and each player can decide to throw one or all of his boules in his turn or wait for the next turn in rotation. It looked like a great deal of fun and not too complicated or requiring high skill levels so we decided we had to get into this game at a later date. Later in the day Roger and Linda arrived in Hoivande and wandered over for a chat before retiring.
Monday 15 October
Shortly after rousing ourselves the next morning, Roger and Linda departed. We had planned to stay a day or two but having seemingly exhausted all the town had to offer, we decided to follow them to the local capital of Auxonne.
This part of the trip marks the end of a canal section where you go onto the river Saone, so conditions would be different with the boat able to do up to 15kmh, unfettered from the 6- 8km limits on the canal. A chance to blow out some carbon from the low revving engine and get some heat into the engine head.
It didn’t take us long to catch up to our friends despite having left a hour after Hoivande but as there was only one lock to negotiate they were not about to slow us down. We both enjoyed the relative freedom of the river and Van Nelle seemed to enjoy the speed as well. We arrived at Auxonne at 1600 having left at 1230, a short, fun trip. On arrival under the guns of the fortress near the bridge we found three long pontoons with water supplied nearby but no power. There was a small hut with signs indicating it was a tourist payment station but it was firmly shut with no instructions as to alternative payment places. Like many towns, Auxonne provides facilities at a cost during the peak period of May or June to August and before and after allows anyone silly enough to be travelling free access.
This was the town that Napoleon received his artillery training and it boasted a Napoleon Bonaparte museum - which we found had of course shut for winter a couple of days before our arrival. The fort is still there but time, fire, accident and vandals have caused a great deal of damage and the use of parts of the buildings for local clubs (petanque etc) has not been equal to the task of up-keeping the fabric of the crumbling structure. The town itself has some interesting features but none of the bustling outdoor life that many of the others had which made them so hospitable. We were later to re-discover Auxonne as a place of some repute for its festivals as it was within an easy drive from our winter port of St Jean de Losne.
Tuesday 16 October
These days were marked by beautiful sunny and warm weather - perfect boules weather for the itinerant boatie so we went in search of the hardware, eventually finding the steel balls and other accessories by asking one of the local players. Turns out the balls are sold only at the electrical store since the proprietor is a member of the boules club. We bought a set and went out during the afternoon to practise.
Prior to gaining world class expertise at heaving steel balls around the countryside I decided that since A) we were moored port side in allowing the use of the crane to get the scooter off the boat and B) we were now close to St Jean de Losne, I would scooter over there to suss out the moorings, as that was our next main destination. It took only half an hour to get to St Jean and find (very easily) the boat harbour and town jetty - the Quai National. It seemed pretty obvious that the marina, while large, had positions only for small visiting boats and, since I discovered rings attached to the quai suitable for us to tie to we would moor there. There were no boats at the quai and no signs prohibiting its use.
St Jean and its neighbouring town of Losne across the river are the centre of pleasure boating in France as they sit on the Saone River at the start of the Canal de Bourgogne and near the Canal Lateral Saone a Marne. It is sort of the meeting point of many major directions and is near the legendary Burgundy wine district governed by the city of Dijon. Not a bad place to spend the winter period from November to April.
I made inquiries about a winter mooring as Maureen was not convinced that to run down the more than 600km to the Mediterranean was a good idea and everyone was getting nervous about the imminent closure of some of the key canals for the chomage (annual maintenance period). There are two organisations owning moorings at St Jean de Losne. H2O and Bosquart. I inquired first at Bosquart and was advised that it MAY be possible on the outside of another, Swiss owned, barge but that the owner would have to be asked and would have to agree. On that wharf, which runs inside the canal de Bourgogne off the river Saone, work on major refits and repairs are carried out, causing a great deal of noise and mess. Additionally the water is cut off during winter as pipes freeze. I was not encouraged.
At H2O there was a quite different story. If I wanted to look at an area slightly out of town I could have a mooring there for 860 francs per month ($A 245) but I would have to cut the grass. A map was provided and I left for the road and gravel track that leads to the area. On arrival I quickly found the spot, in a disused canal inhabited by other stately barges, most of whose inhabitants live aboard permanently. The vessel directly in front was the property of Matthew Morton, an airline 747 captain and his partner Caroline Price. The Directeur of H2O also had his barge moored there as his home. I was won over by their interest and kindness and agreed to bring M to look and agree when we arrived at St Jean in Van Nelle.
Wednesday 17
At Auxonne we assisted a Scottish couple moor their boat and soon had boules partners for the next day. Further exploration was carried out in the morning and we warmed to the town to some degree.
The afternoon boule game was humorous and lots of fun so we agreed to do much more of it so long as the weather held. Brenda and Hugh Fraser had given up life looking after holiday makers in Nairn, Scotland, and since Hugh had built their steel ketch they had decided to sail to Australia to see friends, going via Europe and then the Americas.
We barbecued on board Van Nelle and had a few laughs before planning further world boules championships for the morrow, Brenda being especially keen as a past curling champion.
Thursday 18
This morning we decided to head for St Jean de Losne but before leaving offered to assist Hugh and Brenda free their boat ‘Scotia’ which had become high and dry on its keel as the river level had lowered. They had moved pontoons in order to take on water and having done so had become stuck. Hugh did not want to pull the boat off the rock they were on so we departed at 1000, arriving at 1400 at the Quai National, where we moored next to some rental paddle boats, in front of ‘Beatrice’, a river cruiser / restaurant and just behind a hotel boat which was moored centrally.
Hotel boats use the quai as a place to deliver and pick up their washing as there is a laundry operating right on the waterfront, together with three bar / cafes. The English crew are friendly but busy on the Continental Waterways hotel boats as this is a turn-around destination where they change passengers and embark on weekly cruises. We were to come across a few of their boats and crews in the next few years with mixed results.
Just behind the river front boulevarde is a maze of small streets with all the shops generally needed for a long and pleasant stay. The Presse (newsagent) has English newspapers, fresh milk is in all three supermarkets, there are several boat shops for parts and advice and many other facilities such as a dry dock and extensive boatyards. The Tourist office is located near the marina and is equipped with showers, a laundry and a PC for 10 francs per half hour of internet time. Twice a week a room attached opens as a book exchange - at no cost. Boaters bring in the books they have read and exchange them for ones they choose from the three thousand donated tomes in stock in various languages.
Later in the day Marcus and Else arrived with their Dutch friends and guests, Lane and Bayer. Marcus planned to stay for some time as he wants H2O to service his engine. As it began to rain further local, immediate exploration was curtailed but we now had a desire to stay in one place for some time and this appeared to be the place. From St Jean we could explore the Burgundy wine region (Beaune and Nuits St George are only 40km distant) and we are apparently only an hour from ski able snow. The main regional capital of Dijon is a half hour away by train, Lyon an hour and Paris 2. We can take the boat to Dijon which boasts very good facilities and ride the scooter to many other small villages in between.
We were however not keen to tie up permanently just yet as it seems that we may be here until March or April. That being some 4-5 months distant we would prefer to keep exploring until it becomes too cold, wet, windy or freezing to continue - perhaps November, just before the final locks are shut, closing off the canals.
Friday 19
A beautiful sunny, warm day. We cannot get over how one day can be cold and wet with winds that seem like they are off the arctic and the next requires you to wear shorts and tee shirts.
We took the opportunity to get a couple of 10 hour power and water tokens, connect to the services and do some washing and cleaning. While the drying was in progress we took off on the scooter to inspect the two possible moorings and Maureen was sufficiently impressed with the distant one that we agreed to confirm it as our winter mooring which I did by letter to Charles Gerard, proprietor and Directeur of H2O.
Steve and Akeyo had also arrived at the marina before us and we had seen them a couple of times for dinners aboard. These are fun occasions with each couple bringing something - pasta, salads, bread, wine, cheese, etc and us all sitting round the big dining table and just cracking on for hours about rivers, canals and stuff. However, they had their somewhat inflatable timetable to keep to so they bade us all farewell and headed off south, down the mighty Rhone River through Lyon to the Mediterranean.
Drinks on board started at 5.00pm with Lindy and Roger, Marcus and Else and Lane and Bayer, which inevitably turned into dinner at the Asian (?) restaurant followed by dancing on Van Nelle till 1.30 or so. We actually tried a couple of the small restaurants first but unless you arrive early or have a booking - it is ‘je suis desole mais nous n’avons pas le diner’. No food or space or wine or service or whatever.... Anyway there are plenty of choices and we had a passable meal but not very Asian. Marcus and Else’s friends enjoyed the raucous fun we all seem to have and came up looking pretty second hand the next morning - which was unfortunate timing since they had to drive the 7 hours back to the Netherlands for work Monday. Poor people !
Saturday 20
Cloudy with some rain - one of those cold days. Still, since it was a hangover day for some it was probably the best weather combination. Time to hunker down with a good book - or someone who has read one ! We actually went out looking for a much advertised mushroom exposition but didn’t find it !
Sunday 21
We found the mushroom exposition in the Maison de Mariniers and looked in wonder at the 360 types of mushrooms, ranging from edible to dangerous. We actually found behind the mushies an exhibition about barges, which they had unsuccessfully tried to cover up, more interesting and probably worth another trip. The expo was held in the Mariners Building, a small street front shop on the Rue Principale which is dedicated to the many water people of the region.
A beautiful luxemotor barge arrived with its owners Robert and Wendy. I invited myself aboard to look over the boat which is gorgeously fitted out and maintained. I guess I have a yardstick to ensure that Van Nelle continues to be upgraded and not allowed to go backwards. Unfortunately they left early the next day for their winter mooring in Dijon - but that’s not too far away and they left an invitation for us to visit when we are in Dijon.
In the brief conversation I had with them I discovered they had taken four years to get this far south from the Netherlands - a distance we had travelled in some four months. I was beginning to feel the need to slow down.
Monday October 22 - Monday October 29
Being in one place for over a week makes for very thin content on a day to day basis.
The week has been marked by good weather, mostly sunny and warm but with early morning fog and some days that feel like they could snap freeze you. Just when you think that winter has arrived however, the sun comes out and smiles at you as you clamber out of ‘grown up pants’ and into shorts. It has made for great opportunities to have games of boules, generally in the afternoons since no-one seems to get going till lunch time, followed by a few drinks - which almost inevitably leads into dinner and crack (the Irish for talking).
Sunny days also leads one to the occasional Sunday lunch, outside on the boulevarde - well street really - even if it’s not Sunday. One of the nice things about this life is that you can a declare a day to be any day of the week you want and if the day feels like Sunday and is sunny - well then, its time for a long Sunday lunch in the sun.
Time gives one the opportunity also to get into the lists of jobs requiring attention - and this week I have actually tried to catch up on writing (like this journal), email as well and some more important boat jobs, I actually got around to painting out the scrapes and scratches we have inflicted on the rubbing strake and port side of the hull yesterday. Couldn’t do the starboard side as I don’t walk on water but it can wait till we turn around some time. Seems I bump the port side more often that starboard - I wonder why that is ? I also however had the time (and access to Lane’s van) in order to get 4 glissoires (a kind of long, hard rubber fender that allows the boat to slide past objects) and took the time to splice ropes onto them (two each) to hang them on the hull.
I did some washing also the other day and found that the water had spilled out of an overflow pipe I didn’t know existed. That took some time and a portable bilge pump to clean up from the engine room and to put into the river. I guess I will have to figure out how to avoid that ever happening again but in the meantime I just need to ensure that the dirty water tank is empty before washing, as the outlet pump gets beaten by the washing machine emptying.
The toilet has given us a few moments recently. It seems that just occasionally the non return valve on the outlet side does not fully close and allows some water back into the bowl. If the bowl is already quite full, this can mean an overflow, but generally only means an instantly cold wet bum and a very surprised reaction at 4.00am when a nocturnal visit in the dark discovers the fact by feel.
We are constantly on the lookout for bargain wine. Wine has to be good - life just isn’t long enough to drink poor wine - and there are bargains to be had but finding them is a constant challenge. Recently I discovered a trove of Cotes de Rhone - an easy drinking light red - packaged three bottles per plastique. The sign (I’m sure) said buy two and get one free - gratuite - prix 33. I had reached the end of the weekly wine budget but raided the bread jar for 33 francs - mostly in very, very small change - and charged off to the supermarket before one of our barbecue nights. This was going to be a way to cut the rising expense of big dinners. I was very surprised to have half my money given back to me by the check out lady (no chicks here) which meant I had 3 bottles for 16 francs. At 3.6 francs per dollar that equals about $1.50 per bottle. We tried it and it was very good. Eat your heart out (or is that drink you heart out) in Australia where the WET (wine equalisation tax) is ruining the industry.
We went to Dijon and decided to take our bikes along as Dijon is a big city and we could see more of it on bikes. Wrong ! Dijon is a maze of very narrow, mostly pedestrian streets where bikes are a real nuisance. We also had a really hard time fitting them in the train and got some nasty looks from the porters at Dijon on our return. It was only my ‘Ne parlez pas Francais’ that enabled me to stay on the train. It also meant we could not carry back a bargain TV / VCR combination we need for making video programs with our digital camera and editing suite, so all in all - don’t take your bike to town boy, leave your bike at home boy, don’t take your bike to town.
Dijon is fabulous. Very old and well preserved. We had been there very briefly from 2.00pm till 10.00pm on one day two years ago and had not seen anything of the extent of the vast number of medieval streets and beautiful old, historic buildings. We went to the Musee and glanced next door at the fabulous Palais de Ducs, roamed a few cathedrals (more organ music being played) and quickly looked into a hi-fi shop and decided we could spend at least a week exploring. That’s OK though since they boast a big marina for visiting boats and we can go back next week.
We visited another marina near St Jean de Losne - St Symphorien - where people we know have a boat wintered and could not believe what we saw. No water. All the boats were sitting, not quite high and dry but actually stuck in the mud. I cannot understand how one could live on their boat like that over winter. No water means no toilets and while showers and sinks empty into space, no cooling water for generators means no power ???? It looked quite desolate and we were very glad we were not there for our first winter. I’m not sure if the lack of water is a result of design or accident, perhaps it is the chomage ? There was no-one to ask so we were none the wiser. One of the nearby canals - the Canal de Centre - is without water since the reservoir sprang a leak and lost its storage.
The way canals work is that a reservoir higher than the highest part of the canal feeds the top section (bief de partage) and that water flows down through the locks on either side of the summit sector to be replaced by water from the reservoir. No water in the reservoir - no water in any of the locks or biefs in between and therefore no movement in that area. People planning a trip through such affected areas to their winter mooring have a problem - they can go around - sometimes a journey of hundreds or thousands of kilometres and if no alternative routes to their destination are available - they have to make other arrangements.
The town of St Jean de Losne has most things - there are three supermarkets, two electrical stores, a couple of tabacs, boucheries, boulangeries, pharmacies, marinas, restaurants, plenty of bars, a couple of clothes shops, a shoe shop, a couple of fuel places - but it doesn’t have a place to get computer bits. Ink cartridges, read / write CDs, cables, these things are not available here. One has to go to a nearby town, no bigger than St Jean de Losne, to find such items. The town of Blazey is only 15 minutes by scooter, but 40 minutes by bicycle and not on the bus or train line. Terrible to ride all the way there and find you left your wallet at home. No I haven’t done that - yet !
Similarly, the train runs from St Jean to Dijon, but it only runs twice a day. It makes for planning a day out and being mindful of the time to come home. We found ourselves in a hi-fi store 15 minutes from the time of departure of the return train with no idea where the station was or how long it would take to get there. Once out of the shop and pointed in the right direction, I made the mistake of following the signs to the Gare SNCF. Right station but the signs were for cars on a one way street layout. It took me twice as long to get there as it should and I arrived with a bike in hand - to get up and down steps and through the station with thousands of commuters all going in the opposite direction. I made it but it could have been a long ride home.
Monday 29 October
We have now been in one place for 12 days. This is a record of course but it is also very pleasant. It brings home the brilliance of this opportunity. Where else can you move your home into the very heart of Europe’s most inviting and beautiful cities, be right on the doorstep of their best attractions and pay almost nothing for the privilege.
There is also a difference in the openness of people, or is it just me ? For most of my adult life I have found it hard to connect with people and take them to heart. Maybe it was because I was in a work environment where one tends to judge and be reserved or in a social environment laced with competitive aspirations or was it because we just didn’t have - or take - the time to connect ? Whatever the reason, I had no contact with people living next door despite having been there for more than a dozen years. In four months in this environment I have met and become very friendly with more people than I had in the past 10 years. Will the friendships last or are they just ship board acquaintances. I have heard from those who have been at this lifestyle for ten years that they do last, that people travel the length of Europe regularly to catch up with their friends in all corners of the waterways system. These friendships cross nationality, creed, colour, language and religious barriers and give no heed to distance or time. Perhaps its because in this life we have the time and are looking to share it. How, why or where did that aspect disappear from the other life ?
This place France is beautiful. It has beauty in itself and also the beauty of difference - and we have the time to take it in. Words cannot convey the sight of perfect mirror images of tall trees being reflected in the absolutely still water lying ahead of a slowly cruising boat. Look back and see the quicksilver fluidity of the wake of the boat shattering the mirror but causing new dimensions to it. Imaging a wide, still river at crimson sunset, rent by the wake of a slowly moving barge that sends shimmering waves across in fan shapes that are so perfect their lines could not be replicated by hand.
Tall slow grey birds wait at the side of the canals and as your boat approaches they crouch and gracefully leap into flight with long slow pulls of their wings, swooping almost at water level, slowly gaining height with each beat of their long supple wings. They cruise ahead and with a slight upward movement of the leading edge of those long wings, stall their flight as their feet touch the banks. No extra movement, no jump forward or hesitant movement back - just one moment in flight and the next still, watching and waiting for a fish to rise at the passing of a barge.
Streets here appear to have been left almost exactly as they were when Napoleon rode through on his way to Waterloo or returned from Egypt or Russia. Stone and wooden beam houses, half timber and lathe and plaster buildings, homes and shops and offices now inhabiting buildings put in place hundreds of years ago. In the art galleries you see pictures and photographs of the streets then and now and the only difference are power lines and garish neon displays in the now glass front facades.
Public buildings are in use now as they were then. Huge or small, well kept or unkempt they are all here in joyous profusion. Not just one or two like Cadman’s cottage in Circular Quay or the facade of the Barracks in St George’s Terrace, but row after row, street after street, district after district, town after town and city after city. Its not just the cathedrals and the art galleries that overwhelm the senses after a week of leg aching visits (all those stairs) but it’s the fabric around them, the environment that they live in.
You need to spend time in street-side cafes, sitting, reading papers, glancing at passers by, sipping espressos, Pernod or Leffe Blonde beers. This time is as essential as the time spent frantically rushing to beat crowds lined up at the Louvre or the D’Orsay because it is this time that allows all of the other things to settle into perspective. It is the time to reflect on where you have been and what you have experienced.
Since we left Loosdrecht in the Netherlands (don’t say Holland), we have travelled 988 kilometres by my reckoning. It has taken 77 days of which 37 have been travelling days and we have clocked up 111 engine hours. We have passed though three countries and have visited just over 40 towns having passed by or through more than 100. Mention the name of a town, even the ones we have spent 2-4 days in and I find it almost impossible to remember what it looked like without resorting to references, where we moored, the main street, the major attractions the site or layout of the fort - or even if it had one seem to blur together except for occasional highlights.
We have slowed our life to a walking pace but it is still too fast. We have come off a jumbo jet onto Van Nelle, trading 640 knots airspeed for 6 kilometres per hour boat speed and we are still flashing by this experience. I reflect on the unhurried character of Robert and Wendy on their beautiful ship Maria, who have taken four years to get to St Jean de Losne from Holland (didn’t I say not to say Holland, it’s the Netherlands !) and I begin to realise that time is now on our side but that it may take even more time to slow down sufficiently to realise the benefits.
We went to a supermarket today and found in the delicatessen section (no, the French don’t call it that but I’m not sure what it is exactly) all the parts of a meal we had on Sunday at the Café de Navigation across the road. The entre, main course and cheeses were all there looking exactly the same as they presented them - albeit not overcooked as they had made them by forgetting them under the convection microwave. Attitudes are changing, McDonalds are now in prestigious places in most capital cities and if not, the French version ‘Quick’ is. There are ‘sandwicheries’ and the boulangeries and patisseries now serve fast foods of some kind - all be it ‘pate en croute’ rather than ‘meat pie’. However, the meal experience was not created by the elements bought the day before from Casino supermarket and served without style on the road front, it was the position, the sunshine, the local beer and wines, the jaunty attitude of the lopsided waitress, the conversations of the other visitors to the café and the arrival and departure of the bikers and their molls who dropped in on their huge shiny machines, stripping off their leathers to reveal tighter leathers underneath and having a couple of beers before terrorising the freeways again with their roar and hurtling speed.
For us however it was experience and discussion and sunshine and rough local red mixed with the hoppy aftertaste of Kanterbrau beer and the heady aromas of powerful cheeses. Just in front the river sparkled and reflected sunlight onto our faces and the background sounds of talk and whispers in French and English and Dutch caused a buzz that was better than the tinny music coming from inside. It was a Sunday lunch - an experience, another day and another opportunity to just let it invade your senses rather than having to buy a ticket to stand in line to have it thrust at you.
30 October - 16 December
I was writing this on the morning of Sunday, 4 November, which, it surprises both of us, was our 18th day in St Jean de Losne. Not that we were unhappy about this turn of events from flat out travelling to flat out relaxing. There was nothing holding us here except that we have made the decision to stay near where we are for the winter and we have been in the company of some very lovely people whose time and company we wanted to share while we could.
Marcus and Else left yesterday afternoon for all ports south on the Rhone and eventually the Mediterranean for a coast hopping adventure back to the Netherlands. We first met them in the Society Nautique port at Epernay, where we also met Linda and her daughter. We arrived and went exploring and when we returned, Linda’s daughter was standing on the walkway at the waterside, holding a large bag of shopping and looking aghast at the gap between the shore and their boat. While they had been out shopping the level of the river had risen, covering the jetty that ran alongside their yacht and placing a very wet moat between them and their waterborne home. We suggested moving the boat to the section of the port we were moored since there was ample room and the walkway was well clear of the river but since Lindy’s husband Roger was away on business they were concerned about moving the boat on their own and resisted our suggestion.
Marcus and Else were ahead of us and I offered them the use of our hose to refill their water tanks as I had discovered a source of water well away from the jetty but in reach of my two connected hoses, the waterside facilities having been turned off. On approaching their boat I had been met by a fusillade of barking from their diminutive dog, a sort of demented Jack Russell. Over the next 6 weeks, despite me feeding the dog scraps under the table and generally being a nice guy, the greeting was always the same, a sort of semi ‘mechant’ (angry) concerto of great volume. We decided they were OK but their dog ‘Hout’ was not.
Marcus and Else are Dutch and have recently sold their successful company which placed temporary technicians into companies with manpower (sorry labour) shortages. Worn down by the 7 / 24 nature of the business keeping demanding clients happy, they were quick to take the opportunity to leave the new owners behind as they sailed south in their Dutch Cutter, a 36' steel ketch, especially designed for inland waterways. Marcus is a tall, blond 40ish guy with a ready smile and quick sense of humour. Warm and intelligent, he makes a great partner for the tall, brunette Else, 30 something and languid. She also is quick with a smile and endlessly charming and these two had worked their way quickly into our friendship.
On the way south from Epernay we had stopped at the obvious ports to take time to explore the towns, fortifications, chateaux and shopping as they had. In this we were also joined by Steve and Akeyo, Roger and Lindy and occasionally others, leading to some long lunches, pleasant afternoon drinks and riotous dinners. In St Jean de Losne, since Roger and Lindy and we had arranged to winter and Marcus wanted the boat company here to do some minor servicing, we seemed to just stay on together to enjoy each other’s company and the delights of this small town. Boules, lunches, walks, wine, cheese and discussions, dinners and dancing, all came into the gamut of our rapidly developing routine.
I ventured out this morning in the fog to inspect Little Nelle on which we spent considerable time yesterday placing fibreglass matting and gel coat and found that the job had gone much better than I expected. All the external wounds including one large hole, some 30cm in diameter, have been successfully patched. The large hole will need another 5mm packed over the top to strengthen it but all the others have cured rock hard and smooth. One more day of fibre glassing, the replacement of some internal seats and the rubber strip around the gunwale and a coat of paint and it will be difficult to see where the damage has been.
Its been a week for traumas.
On Wednesday we travelled to Dijon by train to investigate the cost of replacing our seche linge (clothes dryer) which threw a tantrum and expired in a small puff of white smoke. We took it apart and found a switch burned out leading to heat damage of the motor. Being an Australian made Hoover, none of the French repair shops wanted to know anything about it, especially since it was on a boat. We decided that since I had already repaired it once, it would make more sense to replace it with another, more at ease with the power system in Europe than the higher voltages of Australia. We also wanted to buy a combination televiseur / magnetoscope (TV / VCR) to both watch videos on and to record edited copies of our video recordings for replay in Australia. We have a digital video camera and an video editing program on our PC so we are keen to get into the business of creating some mini documentaries for folks back home but also as training and orientation aids for visitors.
We took the 1.00pm train from St Usage (a short distance from St Jean) for the 30 minute trip to Dijon and set off on a walk to locate and inspect the harbour for subsequent visits by boat. Having walked for some considerable time we stopped by a major intersection fronting a park to check our rudimentary tourist guide. I had some trouble making out where we were and where we should be going. It seemed to indicate taking one of three roads that circled the park in order to get to the Port. While explaining this to Maureen (of the well developed ‘sense of direction’ school) she pointed to some barges clearly visible through the trees of the park and suggested we simply cross the road. We did.
The Port in Dijon is large and well developed and our friends Hugh and Brenda were there on their yacht ‘Scotia’ on which they plan to sail to Australia via the USA. We had tea with them and discussed the various aspects of the trip to Dijon. The fact that the canal was to be closed in a week decided us, we would not come to Dijon in Van Nelle. The clock was running however so we took our leave and went in search of the video store where we had seen a combi for sale at a discounted price, maybe they had seche linge’s as well or could point out where we could find them.
After a couple of missed turns we eventually found the store and found they also had dryers. They started at 2400 francs and went astronomically upwards from there. I had seen a model in the electrical store in St Jean for only 1790 so we were not about to buy one at 50% or double the price. The manager kindly took out his catalogue and showed us all the models available in France, none of which excited my miserly spirit so we settled on the TV, an indoor aerial and another connector for the PC to the VCR, wrapped the device in my overcoat inside a carton and headed off in a near run for the station, the departure time of the train fast approaching.
Hefting the box with the newly purchased equipment, I followed ‘her of the invincible sense of direction’ to a point about as far as you can get from the station, and then, recognising where we were and where we had to get to, took the box at a near run for the next couple of kilometres. We arrived at the train about 1 ½ minutes before it’s scheduled departure and then sat aboard for some 12 minutes at the station as its departure was delayed !
On arrival back at St Jean, Maureen took off on her bike in the rain to get cords for me to tie the box to my bike for the walk back to the boat. As she departed however I discovered the box was just small enough to be wedged into the carrier basket on the back and so I also took off for the boat - and beat her back. Since she had the key I accepted Marcus’s invitation to board his boat for a beer, much to the surprise and consternation of M who arrived some minutes later.
Hurrying aboard and down the steps I was gripped with fear as the hand-made handles on the box broke away, spilling the box and its precious cargo down the steps and crashing it onto the floor below. I was distraught and rushed to open the box. The plastic case of the device was cracked from its impact, right through the base and up the side, past the loading door for videos and up to the screen. It looked horrible and with trembling heart I inserted the power cord into the socket and hit the button on the front of the device. Nothing. I hit the remote control stand by switch - nothing. I was crushed.
Having been so far to buy this machine, the trauma of the rush to get it to the station and finally getting it to the boat, to have it broken before it delivered one minute of program was devastating.
I croaked a reply to M as she inquired gently about its condition and set off to take it apart to see if there was any first aid I could apply. In doing so I came across a well hidden master power switch on the device’s side, well camouflaged under a speaker grille. I pressed it - nothing - I put the power cord back into the outlet (electricity helps sometimes) and the screen burst into life. I inserted a video - pictures - no sound. ‘Oh’, said M - ‘that’s a silent movie Dad took of us kids.’ I started to breathe.
After some time operating the menus (translated from French until we found the menu option for English) the device was tuned to the available stations and provided us with live coverage of a French TV quiz show, a French Church service (transmitted by an Italian TV network) and a German soap opera, slim pickings. We decided to borrow a couple of videos from Lindy that night and have a TV night - our first in over 4 months ! It worked a treat and we really enjoyed the movie ‘Matrix’ but thought ‘A feeling for snow’ was a bit pathetic.
The final trauma occurred yesterday - Saturday. It was time to check the e-mails and I also needed to transfer money between accounts on the internet - always a trauma as the bank’s E-business network takes from 40 minutes to an hour to do simple things like check balances and transfer cash across accounts. The email seemed quite simple at first. We have to check our incoming email first on an internet program since we get lots of junk mail - some of it huge picture libraries of naked women being subjected to every possible sexual act - and repeated copies of offers for everything from private business investigations to weight loss programs. Once these are deleted I can then use our email connection to download the notes from and to friends and family. While our own server had responded to the internet program it was damned if it was going to connect to others to download - so I received only mail from my personal email address. I then tried the bank connection. After 40 agonising minutes it timed out and so did I.. I resolved to try again later.
At 8.00pm I again tried the bank connection and bit my lip as the minutes ticked by. The reason it was so slow on this occasion was their 5 megabytes of terms and conditions that was downloaded (at 9600kbitsps) TWICE ! Infuriating. I finally got the banking done after an hour (at 160 francs per hour) running me out of phone credit. Bring on the day we have access to a land line.
This turgid repetition of errors made and traumas encountered will probably have most of you wondering why we are doing this. None of the above (which in reality are very small problems) match the wholesale, daily grind of the working week in the ‘land of diminishing returns’ we call the business world of Australia. Besides, we also have all the glorious positive aspects - the brilliant days filled with time to explore our new French surrounds, the markets, the language, the culture. Just to be able to wake up and know that the things you will do today are the things you want to do today balances these little trials. And then there are the unexpected acts of kindness and friendliness that cheer you.
I went to the Hotel de Ville (town hall) to inquire about a long stay visa (Carte de Longe Sejour) which I am about to apply for in order to gain residency for 5 years or so. The lady at the Mairie was very kind and very helpful and so subsequently was one of the directors of H2O, the place we will be wintering - as she had to provide me with a certificate of address. It would seem that this process may be easier than I have been led to believe.
Besides - we now have a new clothes dryer, TV / VCR, money in the bank and a long list of emails from friends and family - and - it appears that French Telecom have refunded 40 minutes of telephone time.
I bought the seche linge (clothes dryer) at one of the two St Jean electrical shops and inquired as to when they would deliver it and take away the old one. The response was to put the price up 210 francs. Since the boat is only some 500 metres from the shop I elected to borrow their trolley and do the delivery / return myself and enlisted Marcus’s assistance to take the old machine down the stairs into the saloon in order to hoist it out the coach roof skylight and replace it the same way with the new one. That was done very quickly and efficiently and led to Else doing her laundry in our machines after M had done ours.
There is a very good feeling to be able to offer friends the occasional shower, meal or washing facility since we have a ‘mother ship’ as one of them remarked. It costs us nothing while making life a little better for those with limited facilities.
We have played boules quite a few times recently - not with great skill - but certainly with a great deal of dedication and enjoyment. Its interesting how many of the locals who, on their daily stroll past the boules ground we discovered, stop and chat or just watch with an experienced eye. It’s also strange that very few actually play here. Almost everywhere you go in France, the older men are at the boules ground with their friends, exchanging and repeating the same exclamations and endlessly changing ends and turns as they try for the perfect pitch before wandering off to the café or bar for a Pastis to recount the glories of the game.
It’s a simple game - well especially as we play it. The man who sold us the six hard and heavy steel balls in a natty plastic holder complete with two jacks or marker balls of plastic, explained that there are no rules. You can play with two or three balls each, you can play over a distance of say 3 metres for women and 6 for men, you can pitch your boules all at once - one after the other - or one at a time in turn. The one who gets closest to the jack wins and throws it out for the next game. He or she can then also determine who leads the play in order for them to be able to throw the last boule and therefore decide the outcome. There is of course the option to aim at the opposition if they are close to the jack and hit them out of the way.
There are no set number of games or players and one can play as an individual or in a team. You change ends at the beginning of each new game and just chatter away during it. You really have only two choices - to get your boules as close as possible or to bowl at the opponent’s boules to knock them away. Simple but fun and a great way to get gentle exercise while enjoying the thin sunshine of the autumn under the plane trees. Actually the most exercise involved seems to be sweeping away the mounds of leaves that accumulate from the over arching canopy of trees, which in Autumn are changing colour from deep green through yellows and oranges and even a red crimson before falling into drifts on the ground and being whisked away by the motorised street sweepers on their daily rounds.
This is not a hard place to be in. We were situated on a wide bend in the river Saone, in the centre of the two towns of Losne and St Jean which are on opposite sides of the river, our side being St Jean. Fronting this part of the river is a 200 metre wide set of terraces leading up from the river to the road and extending from the bridge to the grassy banks at the end of the terrace. The terraces are made of stone set in concrete and have a soft brown colour, very attractive to the eye. Set into the stone are rings to which we and the other boats moored here tie up. Above the terraces is a one way street fronted by shops, café / bars and houses. It is shaded by trees and well lit at night and every 50 metres along the road side are plinths which provide electricity and water to visiting boats, whose owners insert a token of 10 Euros for 10 hours use. We used them about once a week to give the generator a rest and to top up the water tanks. For the past week we have shared the facility with Marcus, our Dutch friend, who has taken power from our bow power outlet and attached his water hose to ours to get water when we are connected to the tap.
The road above us runs perpendicular to the main street of the town of St Jean which runs through both villages in a straight line across the bridge. On the St Jean side it is fronted by the boulangeries, magasins, boutiques and agents de presse. It is also the location of the Eglise and the Hotel de Ville, a small musee concerned with barging and the river life (once the site of an exposition about champignons where some 300+ varieties of mushrooms were displayed), This main road also leads from Centre Ville to the Port de Plaisance, the Casino supermarket (always a bit of a gamble) and the Office de Tourism (or Syndicate de Initiative as it’s called here for some reason).
Along both sides of the river front are a number of barges. It is said that when professional bargees decide to retire, they can pick where they wish to tie up their barge and live aboard it for the rest of their life. This has apparently been made law as the boats are now almost impossible to sell, such is the marginal income available from working them, and this is the only way a bargee and his wife can provide housing for themselves in retirement.
Near the Port de Plaisance are the ateliers (workshops) of the two or three boat building, repair and maintenance yards here in St Jean. The yards are busy rebuilding old working boats into hotel boats or luxury floating homes for new owners. They also repair current owner’s boats and do regular maintenance work aboard. The port itself harbours over 200 boats of all sizes and shapes including a large fleet of Crown Blue line hire boats.
We did not stay in the port itself as all the places were taken, especially for large vessels like ours and the resources were stretched thin. About 3 or 4 km up river there is a small, disused river lock and branch canal which is now an outport of the company H20 and the home of more than twenty big boats. It is here we were booked to spend winter, first having to tend the 40 metres of ‘garden’ provided. We hoped that, like the other boats, we will have power, water and even a land line telephone service, enabling us to rest our onboard systems until spring brings our departure for ports south, north or both.
Sunday, 4 November and I have been at the desk writing this part of the journal for some hours. Maureen has made potato and onion soup and, it now being 1.15pm, has served it. The fog has not lifted, indeed it has not moved and the other side of the river is still invisible as are most features more than 50 - 100 metres away. We were up at about 9.00am having read till 11.00pm last night. We planned to do some more work on the dinghy but cannot while it remains damp as the gel coat that fixes the fibre glass will not set properly in these conditions. The generator is running, recharging the batteries and powering the computer, lights and pumps that are part of everyday life. The heating system, which is very efficient (but never turned up high enough for Maureen due to my miserly nature), is not programmed to run during the day and as yet we have not laid in a store of wood for the pot belly stove, so the cool damp air of the fog is trickling in through small gaps in the doors and windows of the wheel house above.
Maureen made curtains for the staircase to stop the cold night air getting down into the saloon and with it in place, the door to the bedrooms closed and the heating turned to 21 degrees, it is very warm below when it is freezing cold outdoors. The heating is provided by a series of radiators, warmed by hot water from the diesel boiler that also provides our hot showers and washing water. This is an extremely efficient system and thankfully one that 80% Frank (the previous owner) did not economise on.
We may go out later, possibly to visit our Canadian friend Lindy to borrow one of her videos, or to play boules, or just to take a walk in order to justify still being here and not doing anything much at all. In truth, we need the rest after 6 weeks of non stop socialising.
Monday 5 to Wednesday 21 November
It was with a sense of loss that we stood on the Quai Nationale yesterday and untied Marcus and Else’s mooring ropes, letting their lines and friendship slip through our fingers. We exchanged hurried promises to meet again and to write e-mails, even for them to hire a car and come back to visit and for us to take the train to the Med to meet up with them and then they were gone.
We returned to the job of repairing Little Nellie, the disfigured dinghy and to letting time heal the rending of the companionship and the deep seated hangovers it had caused. Seemingly to seal the trauma of loss in some natural way, the fog has rolled back during the early hours of the morning to totally obliterate everything formerly in sight. We are no more than 100 metres from the bridge and less that distance to the opposite shore of the river but we can see nothing. Even the commercial tug, which arrived yesterday and tied up 20 metres in front of us is obscured.
While the weather holds and conditions at the Quai Nationale are suitable, work continues on Little Nelle our damaged dinghy. Indeed, I believed I had placed the final coats of fibre glass on the little sailing boat and was ready to test her when it all dried. That was not to occur until Monday the 19th when we rowed the boat up and down the ancien ecluse (the old lock canal port up river) without getting wet feet - all seemed well until we tried to get her out of the water.
I put the stainless harness that connects the dinghy to the winch and began to wind her out of the water. For some reason the bow dipped down rather than the stern and nothing Maureen could do would pull it level. We put her back in the water thinking I had put the harness on the wrong way - it having a short and a long end. We tried again. This time the bow came up almost vertically and as Nelle rose the water trapped between the two hulls came spouting out of every small and large hole - gallons of it. None had affected us as we rowed since the inner hull is apparently watertight, but obviously the outer hull has some way to go before it stops water flooding in between the two hulls.
This was the week I finally put my papers together to apply for the Carte de Longue Sejour, but am advised by the staff at the Hotel de Ville that it is rare to get 5 years and that I should probably count on one year initially. The papers went in on Tuesday, four copies of ID pictures, marriage certificate, birth certificate, income statement, address particulars, insurance information etc. I am advised it will be sent to Dijon for processing and will be returned on or around the 20th of December. They stipulate that the processing period is six weeks.
I also applied for a bank account at La Poste and was swiftly granted an interview - in two days time, at which the account was opened with 1500 francs and a credit card and cheque book arranged. They arrived a week later at our mail box at the office of H2O. Meanwhile a member of the town council staff arrived at our doorstep politely advising us that our stay at the Quai Nationale had been too long. Please note; that there is no information anywhere that advises the time allowed is limited, but the man was insistent the Quai was only for occasional visits of short duration. How can you argue - especially since the language barrier was at the time, impenetrable, so we decided to go to Chalons sur Saone, some 70km down river. Marcus had called with intelligence that the port at Chalons was very pleasant and the town excellent for both sight seeing and eating. The shopping, he added, was spectacular with a huge shopping centre right on the doorstep of the Port Fluviale.
We left after my banking interview at La Poste and spent 5 hours cruising down river, through pleasant countryside, two locks (very large for commercial vessels) and thence into Chalons, a large riverside town with major facilities. The Port is on the inside of an island which is right in the middle of the town. The entry is approached by passing the island and coming into the port from downstream. On arrival one is met by large floating pontoons, supported by tall steel piles some 20 feet high (7 metres). The floating pontoons are attached to the shore by long flexible walkways. The need for this elaborate setup was revealed by Marcus who met us on entry and guided us to a suitable mooring, adjacent to power and water. He pointed out that the pontoons had risen some 3.5 metres last winter, a distance that would have put more usual fixed jetties about 2 metres underwater.
We were entertained on ST53 - Marcus and Els’ boat - to a rabbit dinner with trimmings and far too much wine as usual, after which we slept till wakened in the early morning by wind and drizzle noises. And our first ICE. Actually it was a heavy frost with ice patches that had built on the deck and walkways. The wind was cutting and the moisture in the air turned body extremities to icicles within minutes. Too bad, we had arrived and had to explore the town.
We dressed in our heaviest clothing and set out like two Michelin men to check out the Centre Ville. Across a pedestrian bridge to the island and through narrow streets, crowded with old, leaning buildings, mostly part of the town’s major hospital which takes up most of the island. Across the main vehicular bridge from the island to the far shore of the Saone and the main part of Challon sur Saone. Most of this area has been closed to traffic, allowing pedestrians free rein to roam and enjoy the spectacular array of shops, restaurants, churches, cafes, markets, museums and town squares (places). Most of the town is hundreds of years old with some half timbered buildings still in use from medieval times. A large and bustling market offered up warm hats (one with ears for me), gloves and other warm accessories while at the nearby park a circus was installing itself for a short season.
We visited the main museum and the two biggest churches, one a cathedral, the other a church actually bigger but strangely designed to compete with its senior associate, both dominating their respective ‘places’ and provide imposing settings for the cafes that were definitely not operating outside on this day. We visited the huge shopping centre - a supermarket with some 30 checkout aisles that stretch 100 or more metres, plus hardware, electrical, sports, and other stores nearby, right next to the marina.
We also discovered that there is a sting to the facilities here - the cost. Being a 27meter boat always imposes extra burdens on us, not just in operating and manoeuvring but also in the cost based on length, IF the place has facilities big enough. On this occasion the cost was 130 francs each night (about 20 Euros), a total of $A 100 for 3 nights. While this may sound inexpensive compared to hotel rooms or apartments in the middle of these towns, it is serious money when extended over a year and is far more than the 860 francs ($A 250) PER MONTH we pay in St Jean. Having paid for three nights we were dismayed to find that Marcus and Else had to leave suddenly as their French language lessons began the next Monday in Lyon, some 200km down river. As a farewell celebration we booked one of the many restaurants that stand, side by side, on both sides of one of the narrow streets of the island. How many farewells do they get ?
Saturday arrived and we left, to return against the current to St Jean. The five hour trip down river turned into a six hour trip up river but time passes easily when you are cruising and the scarcity of locks means you can stay warm inside the wheel house. We returned non-stop since the two reasonably large towns on the way were both lacking in facilities for a large boat. Both had excellent little harbours for small craft, 10 - 15 metres maximum, but nothing for us.
We had to obtain fuel and confirm arrangements with H2O before we could take up residence at the ancien ecluse but we arrived after both had closed for the weekend and so settled back into life at the Quai Nationale since the bureaucrats don’t work on the weekend and there would therefore be little chance of being evicted.
Since buying the VCR / TV combi we have been fortunate to have Roger and Lindy as friends, as they have an extensive video library which they have been kind enough to share with us. On the cold nights when you don’t want to read or write, a few hours with Pride and Prejudice or Far from the Madding Crowd can be a very pleasant diversion. We indulged on the Saturday as we prepared a really excellent curry for the Sunday Lunch - a feature we plan to make a habit of, inviting different and interesting people to join us for some fine food and pleasant wine as we swap intelligence about the area and the lifestyle.
Sunday, November 11 was the French Remembrance Day and on my way to the supermarket to pick up a couple of last minute ingredients for lunch I saw the beginnings of a parade. I dashed back to the boat for a camera but unfortunately when I returned it was all over - I thought - certainly at the place I had seen them they were dispersing. As I later welcomed Lindy, our lunch guest, we saw the parade march on to the main street, not 150 metres from us. Again a rush to get the camera and to get to a vantage point - alas - on arriving in the centre of town all I saw were the bank employees and the pompiers (firemen) wandering off to their cars and their own Sunday lunches.
Monday 12 November - The Ancien Ecluse - first week
This was the day to move to our semi permanent mooring for winter at the ancien ecluse (old lock). First I needed to advise H2O and to get fuel. H2O was easy and the arrangements made quickly. I headed back to Van Nelle to start up and cruise to the fuel barge at the entrance to the Canal de Bourgogne and as we did, observed another barge taking the refuelling mooring. Drat - Oh well, just a short wait and then it was our turn to take in 750 litres of diesel fuel at 5.7 francs per litre ! I will really have to get the red diesel tank operational as the price of red fuel for winter is about 60% of the cost of white !
In Europe there are two colours of diesel fuel - white and red. The white is taxed and therefore 40 % more expensive than the red, which can only be used for commercial vessels or by plaisanciers for heating and electricity generation. Use of red for the main engine is subject to heavy fines. We actually have a spare fuel tank of about 200 - 300 litre capacity but it has not been plumbed in to the generator and furnace and I have no idea of the condition of its interior. - Another winter job for the growing list.
After fuelling I cruised slowly down river past the ancien ecluse entrance to a wide area of the river in order to turn Van Nelle so I could approach the branch canal slowly and in the correct direction. This also allowed time for Maureen to ride the scooter from town to the mooring. As I arrived so did she and as I slipped Van Nelle through the old, disused lock near the entrance she leaped aboard to assist in the mooring procedure. We moved slowly through the narrow passage between the two lines of moored boats making sure we did not create suction or wake to disturb the people and valuables on board the permanent boats. Turning at the end of the Ancien Ecluse in the wide turning bassin, we retraced our route back to our pre determined mooring and slowly manoeuvred in. A few minutes of manoeuvring and we were at our new home.
Pretty soon we had the power connected with the help of our neighbours, Matthew and Caroline. Struggling through the undergrowth brought to mind my undertaking to do the ‘gardening’. Charles Gerard the Directeur of H2O with whom I had negotiated our stay, had suggested I call at his barge at 12.00 noon to pick up the tools necessary - specifically a lawn mower or whipper snipper. It was soon obvious that a lawn mower would not be able to handle the overgrown tangle that we now began to call ‘The Park". Fortunately the mower was not in working order and a couple of days later he arrived with a whipper snipper which, after two days and a complete new length of cutting cord, had beaten the grass and weeds into some sort of submission.
Apart from the need to clear ‘The Park’, we also had to get to know the neighbours and this was undertaken at once with drinks at Matthew and Caroline’s barge ‘Vixit’ on the Tuesday, and on Van Nelle with Charles and Patricia on Wednesday. There are more neighbours but as yet we have not been able to catch up with them.
Other pre winter tasks include getting firewood, setting up the chimney extension, changing a gas bottle and arranging for the phone. The firewood (at 200 francs) was pretty easy with Caroline’s help as she contacted the firewood supplier who turned up on Friday with a van-full for us and a couple for them. The Dutch gas bottle was rejected around town and required a new bottle to be taken from the supplier at huge cost - 300 francs for a gas bottle (exchangeable from now on) complete with gas fill. We will need to change the second Dutch one as well, leaving us with three useless bottles and two new ones at extra cost. The phone arrangements were conducted with the help of the young tourism official who made the call, explained the details and arranged for France Telecom to attend and install a phone land line in a week’s time, on a monthly account.
A chimney extension is necessary as normally we travel with the pot belly stove chimney reduced in height to clear bridges and lock entrances. When in use in winter however, you need to ensure the smoke does not blow into the wheelhouse, the outlet height is sufficient to ensure good draft and also that the whole part outside is fully insulated to stop foul smelling condensation dripping into the boat. This occurs as the exhaust condenses in the super cold air outside if the pipe is not wrapped. We arranged the extension but baulked at the cost of the insulated version, a decision we were to regret.
Checks made of the use of wood, vs. electricity vs. diesel heating has the economy of wood use running number one with electricity next and diesel a distant third and very expensive. After a week we have been able to balance the use of wood and diesel so that we are running reasonably economically. We will need more wood and could do with some electrical heating devices - but these are heavy on power consumption and we pay for the power here. More investigation is required. One of the down sides to wood burning however is the attendant thick, brown, smelly sap-like condensate which oozes out of the chimney (it’s joins were installed upside down by 80% Frank) into the boat and also onto the deck. We have tried a few ‘fixes’ but have not yet overcome that little issue except by keeping the fire roaring rather than smouldering - very expensive.
The other feature of life here is the temperature and the attendant conditions of frost and ice. The temperature overnight has been -2 to -4 C each night for the week with ice forming on the land and the boat. Each morning we are covered with a thin (getting thicker) layer of ice on everything and on the days the sun cannot get through the mist, it stays all day. The Park looks quite beautiful in the early mornings with the golden sunrise glowing through the white tendrils of ice that decorate each bough and leaf but the downside is that the decks become very slippery.
The easy part of our ‘moving in’ here was the connection to electricity and water. Having been through a number of different countries and diverse places that were supplied with water and power, we have built up quite a ‘library’ of different connectors for both the electric cables and the hoses. While we did not have a perfect electric cable to start with, our originals having had Dutch ends, we soon had the necessary bits to join together to make a working connection. The other great thing here is that we have a choice of 16 or 22 amp outlets, this means the power will not cut out by over use - something that happens too frequently elsewhere. We have taken the 16amp feed as we don’t use more than that even when everything is on. The only problem with the water connection so far, has been that it freezes occasionally and needs a liberal dose of hot water poured on the end that comes out of the ground to free it up !
There is quite a pronounced drop from the road to the park at the boat level which requires steps of a weather proof kind to be constructed. Now that we have cleared the worst of the undergrowth and the debris left by Bernard, the previous inhabitant, we have been able to make a start on civilising the facilities and have laid a few of the steps in with rubber mats covering the mud. We plan to lay gravel on the steps but will need a vehicle to cart the necessary materials from the local ‘bricolage’. We also thought to plant a tree or two, so people would have something to remember us by. Eucalyptus sounds like a good idea if we can get one or two at a reasonable stage of early maturity in order to withstand the winter cold. It’s killed our long suffering flowers that came with us from Holland I fear.
Week of 19 November
Now that we are here, I have had to face up to the jobs that were not completed in Holland before we left. These include scraping and painting the engine room, completing the refurbishment of Little Nelle and finishing the interior trim of the boat. Pretty soon (like the beginning of the new year’s good weather) I will also have to repaint parts of the deck and hull and there are a few patches of varnish to be done as well. There will definitely be little time for getting fat and lazy. Fat yes - lazy no.
This second week started cold and became colder until about Thursday when the clouds came over and the ice melted, to be replaced by light rain on Friday night and Saturday. We were hoping it would be fine on Sunday as the town has planned a major celebration of the 100th year of the installation of some canons and a Legion d’Honneur, granted by Napoleon, but delayed until delivery was made in 1901. Several Generals and Emperors were involved (as best I can make out) but the canons could not be spared until their technology was well and truly outdated. They were won by the town for its gallant defence against a siege laid by thousands, held off by hundreds.
On Sunday there will be a parade and an unveiling, a ‘Grand Vin’ and a banquet (price 150 francs) all attended by Le Ministre who arrives and departs by train. Given the precarious nature of labour relations on France’s railway network and the state of the weather, it’s a toss up as to what might spoil the plans. Anyway, we have a Sunday lunch planned so we resisted the urge to join the banquet but we will attend the ceremonies, to return to Van Nelle afterward for celebratory toasts accompanied by the pop of Champagne corks rather than canons.
Frustrations have been to the fore at the latter part of the week.
The land line phone was to be installed on Thursday and when the technician failed to arrive by 3.00pm Maureen set off for the tourism office to have them call and inquire. They asserted the man had been, could not find the boat and left and would not be available for another week. Then, the next morning the Motorola mobile phone rang but would not allow Maureen to hear the other party, identified as Lindy or Roger by their number which was programmed in the phone. I bought the flip phone in Hong Kong some years before and as it has been hard worked, the connections between top and bottom have become worn or broken.
Neither the headset or the flip would respond to any of the old ‘fixes’ like banging it on the table or turning up the volume to flat out, so with a great deal of swearing I risked taking it apart. It has been professionally fixed twice previously, replacing the connection from the speaker in the top of the flip to the microphone in the body. I was not sure what I could do but after quite a few frustrating minutes I managed to get it apart and after breaking a delicate locking device for the strap to the flip, also managed to get it back together - and it now works again. For how long I am not sure or confident. I fear we will have to purchase a new mobile.
As the time had gone by with ice and sleet a daily occurrence, it occurred to us that just sitting around in St Jean had its limitations and perhaps we ought to think about exploring further a field - but how. A car was the logical choice of transport but what to do with it when summer came ? We decided to canvass other’s ideas and see if there was a syndicate that might be interested. No-one seemed too enthusiastic and meanwhile we had discovered that one of the H20 staff wanted to sell her Renault 21 for 6,000 francs - about $A 1,000. It seemed a good deal.
Having made arrangements to buy the car I need to amass the cash to pay for it. Since there is a limit the amount one can take out of the ‘wall’ each day, I have to spread the withdrawals from the Visa card over several days. We have had quite a few frustrations with Visa and the ANZ bank and this was another. Despite the card being loaded with a large credit balance, it also has lots of credit available, none of which was able to be turned into cash on Saturday, despite having been OK on Friday. On trying I received messages like ‘We have been requested by your bank to return your card’, or, ‘Transaction not available’. I even tried calling the 24 hour service to get the block fixed - ‘We apologise, the phone banking service is not available at this time’.
This banking frustration follows our constantly enraging task of trying to transfer funds via the internet with ANZ internet banking. Since we have to use the mobile, and the bank programmers insist on loading the system with cute graphics, the process takes over 40 minutes and exhausts our pre-paid cards. The fact that the phone only transmits and receives a total of 9600 bits per second is a big hurdle. What made it even worse this week as I was transferring funds in preparation to buy the car, was that they also insisted on sending down the line their standard terms and conditions, all made up with cute (and large) graphics - twice. This timed out the system and turned the 40 minute odyssey into a 1 hour 20 minute nightmare.
The positive highlights of the week however outweighed the frustrations and included our first group French conversation session at the Tourism Office with the really helpful and pleasant young girl who runs the place, followed by coffee at the Bar Navigation on Quai Nationale with ‘the Gang’ These ‘lessons’ will hopefully correct our pronunciation, clear up the questions we have about when and where to use certain phrases and give us a great deal more confidence in general. We theme the sessions around shopping, boat maintenance, restaurants, train travel and other regular activities. It is fun and very inexpensive as we just decide on an amount to donate to the Tourism Office, which delights them.
We had dinner on the 38 metre peniche, Vixit, during the week as guests of Caroline Price and Matthew Morton, the jovial English 747 captain who also invited Bill and Laurel Cooper, who have achieved fame writing books about barging, and Mike and Carrie whose surnames are unknown to us. Bill is pretty hard to take as he constantly dominates the conversation, really not allowing anyone else a share of the time. I, inevitably, took the aggressive contentious approach and challenged him on just about everything while Maureen worked the evening with charm and tact. The others seemed amused at some of the interchanges and we left the best of friends with Mike and Carrie while Bill seemed not to have noticed and Laurel quietly followed in his path. Bill is ex Royal Navy. A big man with a big ego and one who, according to his own account, single handed-ly won most of the actions and operations the Brits were ever involved with on the water during WWII. He fed and supported the Jewish migration to Palestine, mapped Cocos Island, saved the Indians from whatever and still had time to be an intelligence officer, mixing action and endeavour with 007 like derring do - according to Bill. Whew.
I was still concerned about the leak of coolant into the sump that I had discovered on buying Van Nelle. I knew it could lead to serious problems and wanted it fixed. So, during the week we also had a visit from Phillipe Gerard, nephew of the Directeur and head of maintenance and a technician from H2O to inspect the main motor, decide what had to be ordered and arrange the maintenance work I had requested. They were quiet and efficient and left after a short time with the books (that are in French) and a parts list to order.
A couple of days later Phillipe informed me that the parts would arrive within days and the work could go ahead next week. This is good news as I am sure the engine has not been serviced since Frank bought the boat more than 4 years ago. I have to say that I am impressed by H2O. I think it is the influence of Charles Gerrard and Catherine Rault who both are pretty laid back but very helpful. Much later I was to reverse that opinion.
It was our 29th wedding anniversary and a few of the Gang were coming to lunch. We will pop the roast on, shoot off to the Canon Parade and come back for the big booze up here. I bought Maureen a big bunch of roses to celebrate and they are now nicely arranged in strategic places about the saloon. The French love flowers and use them extensively to decorate and celebrate.
Lindy and Roger arrived on Saturday morning with the shopping for the lunch, just as I was fibre glassing Little Nelle - and just as it started to sprinkle. Why does it always rain when I have started either painting or fibre glassing ?
Sunday arrived - the grand parade and ceremony of the Canons day. We arranged a lift into town with Caroline and took both the video and stills cameras to record the event. We arrived just as the parade snaked up from near the fuel barge to the bridge and took the sharp left turn (tourner a gauche) into the premier rue de la Ville de St Jean de Losne (main street of the town of St Jean). Here the dignitaries met the ancien voitures (old cars) carrying the Ministre (government minister) and other celebrities as the rain began to drizzle on everyone.