STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN
final 15. These were a virtual staircase and boats were required to take this last section in pairs to save water. They said we must get there by1500 in order to reach the top before the 6pm close. Suitably warned, we made another early start and with the canal to ourselves all went well for a while. Then around noon, our luck ran out. First we caught up with two other boats. We could have fitted all three boats in each lock but they weren’t up for it, so instead of locks taking 10 minutes, it became double that. Then we met two big barges loaded with gravel working down the canal, delaying us for another hour. By this stage I was getting stressed and misjudged the headroom under a bridge. Half way through, our bimini caught on crumbling concrete and exposed steelwork. We were moving slowly so fortunately the damage was slight – canvas grazed and steel frame slightly bent – but disentangling ourselves while trying not to do more harm was tricky and time-consuming.
Just when we were ready to give up on the day, we saw the boats in front had stopped for lunch. We cruised by, waving cheerfully and at 1430 rounded a corner to find the first of the 15 locks ahead of us. Our initial elation faded as we realised that the red light would not respond to our “zapper”. After a painful 15-minute wait, which felt like an hour, the light turned green although we still had to wait for a second boat to arrive before commencing our ascent. Fortunately, a few minutes later, another did arrive and with just 10 minutes to spare before the 1500 deadline, we were finally allowed to proceed.
I would love to say it was all straightforward from there but exiting that first lock, we were horrified to see large areas of exposed mud in what were supposed to be side ponds. Picking a careful path between the mud banks to the next lock, we discovered that due to the low water levels, the bollards on the lockside were too high to reach. We finally managed to attach one rope but decided we needed someone on the bank again. So once the lock was full, Marjorie stepped off and started jogging up the towpath to take the ropes in the locks ahead. Now with only mud banks to worry us, we made the final lock, comfortably before the 1800 deadline. But the view that greeted us when the gates opened was not reassuring. The reduced depth meant two feet of exposed rocky bank either side and combined with the constant pinging of our depth alarm, I felt seriously worried for my props.
By this point, all we wanted was to stop for the night. The summit pound is 10km long with no proper moorings and tying to the bank would not be possible with so little water, but we had noted on the chart a couple of isolated pontoons. We were relieved to find the first one unoccupied. It was almost impossible to stand on – the low water meant it was on a
30- degree slope – but there was just enough depth and it felt wonderful to be stopped!
Our first priority was a celebratory drink so we broke out a bottle of our favourite, Crémant de Bourgogne – we reckon it’s as good as Champagne but isn’t allowed to use the name due to French rules. With the temperature still in the 30s and no shorepower, I dug out the petrol generator so we could enjoy our air conditioning as we unwound from an exciting day.
After supper, I couldn’t resist exploring a little further, walking as far as a deep rock cut surmounted by a sign announcing that we had reached the “Partage des Eaux”. We were 370m above sea level, the highest had ever been. Ahead was the
Med and it was downhill all the way. Surely nothing could stop us now!