Thursday 6th June D Day for the Gnats

It was a dramatic dawn with the sun breaking round `Harpers` rock clearing the river of its misty shroud.

By 9am the sun was basting the saussoir crags as we set off for Clamecy.

 

accompanied on our way by the usual suspects.

 

 The towpath was already busy with walkers and cyclists. We were impressed by the radcliffe styled elder who clearly under doctors orders was strengthening the heart walls and shedding a few unwanted stones. Indeed, all appeared well with the world until the folding chair incident. A dark stain on this skippers forrages around France and one that Doucette may have to live with for some time. With no locks for a while, the crew decided to join me on the poop. She picked up her chair and attempted to unfold it. This is a process which takes approximately 5 seconds. 3minutes later with a bruised toe to add to her woes, our sweet natured crew was beginning to make smoke. Amidst my mirth at this spectacle, I noted an elderley couple approaching on bikes. They had that look of Englishness. As the leading lady breasted Doucette and her arm started to raise waving a greeting, our totally exhasperated crew blissfully unaware of the passing cyclists exploded a far to loud single word. F***. The ladies wave was curtailed and a slightly shaky "good morning" drifted across the bank. Her trailing husband was obviously struggling to contain a smirk as I exchanged "lovely morning`s". The crew was on her knees mortified. I was still laughing at bedtime.
With the crew still slowly coming to terms with her awful fopar we approached chatel-censoir, a pretty hilltop town.

 

We passed the privately owned chateau de Faulin

At the village of Lucy sur yonne,  the crew displayed just how much the days dark event had affected her when I snapped a picture of four gorgous geese saying arn`t they beautiful, a reply of "oh are they real" left me lost for words.

 

 The fluvial showed bollards on the bank here but with grass growing 3ft high, no sign. I glanced upstream where the sight of Eric dressed in just his speedo`s launching himself into the grass and nettles made me think everyone has gone mad today. Our brave hero ignored the pain of the nettle rash adorning his bronzed calfs and heroically came and took my lines attaching them to the newly discovered bollards and thus we stopped for lunch.
Collette had her lovely tomatoe and mushroom without the mushroom macaroni dish knocked up in 20minutes. This recipe was a little gem of a find. I proceeded to spill the tomatoe sauce all over a wheelhouse cushion, made by the crew only last year. I am pleased to report that our still shaken crew dealt with the situation with little more than a shrug.
Things improved after lunch with Collette managing to lassoo her first bollard of the trip following further training from the skipper. The jubilation seemed to help her regain some composure after this mornings event.
We approached a lifting bridge. Eric was now in front on Duet and so moored on the quay and went to press the button which lifted the road bridge. Much excitement. A cyclist approached from the road and waited patiently as the bridge slowly lifted. Problem was the system stopped as soon as you lifted your finger from the button. I moved on through and watched as Eric followed. The cyclist just kept watching. Having assumed he was waiting and would press the button to lower the bridge for himself, we cracked on as it started to rain. Where had this come from. I glanced back to the bridge which amazingly was still up. I searched for our friend only to spot him heading back down the canal towpath having not been looking to cross at all and having not lowered the bridge. Telling Eric to move on, I returned to the bridge where the crew jumped carefully off and lowered the bridge. It had been quite an episode and we had many more self service bridges ahead.
The war with the gnats was now at its peak as I had ammo available and was fighting back after yesterdays attacks but a couple of the blighters still broke through the lines and managed more facial carnage on this now craggy looking skipper.
At 5pm we arrived at Clamecy joining the wider than expected River Yonne for the entry stretch behind Duet.

 

The final bridge entering the port bears a statue of a `flotteur` holding a `picot` in commemoration of the towns importance in the flottage of logs to paris from the morvan forests. From 1549 to 1927, huge log rafts up to 72m long floated down the Yonne and the Seine reaching Paris in 9 days. The picot was used for dragging logs.

 It had been our `longest day` 23km 14 locks and loads of fun and finally a travel day with no mechanical issues, marvelous! I was topping  the water when the shout came.  Andrew, No water, the light on the water pump has gone out. I was relieved that there were no passing cyclists! Half hour later an obscure in line fuse in of course an innaccessable position with no give on the wires had been replaced and it was definately time for fluids. We had tied up directly outside an imposing looking house with impressive steel gates into a well tended garden. From the gates came a smiling Arlette. She greeted us and asked how long we intended staying and the usual niceties. Ten minutes later she returned and presented me with two magnificent roses as a welcome gift. It was a beautiful gesture and a shame that it took collette ten minutes to remove the multitude of tiny thorns embedded in my already gnat bite scratched shambles of a hand which took the mighty hit when I dropped the roses on reciept and made an ill percieved grab to recover.
Wounds tended and more cream applied we enjoyed and a fabulous BBQ of steak and chicken with salad washed down with drink.
We retired quite exhausted.