Wednesday 22nd May Vermenton, its only 2.7km

A morning stroll to the tiny village Boulangerie on a dry bright morning was an almost forgotten pleasure. I investigated the Tim recommended restaurent which is in the  michelin guide and "people come from miles to eat there". Menu looked reasonable considering and I planned a possible visit depending on the river closure news which I recieved on my return to Doucette. Re opens Friday, the crew asserted. We spent the morning blogging and generally drying and sorting things. Nearly left the dehumidifier in the car. Thank goodness we had not as it was now in ful time use.
Collette and Mum went for a 5 minute stroll round the village with mum returning complaining of itchy legs. Thankfully her appetite was not affected as we sat down to a classic lunch of breads cheeses ham and pates.
I set up the satellite for mum and she settled to an afternoon of tv. At last we had blue skies and a warm sun. Collette and I set off along the towpath for a 2.7km walk to Vermenton and to do some shopping for vittals. It was fabulous and a reminder of why we do this.
We soon reached the boat basin at the end of the navigation but could not see an obvious way across the river. We followed its course toward a bridge which turned out to be the railway line. I was all for crossing the 40m as there are only two trains a day but Collette quite rightly refused. We were so close yet so far.

We set off on the only track available confident that there must be a bridge across to Vermenton eventually. An hour later after a beautiful walk through fields and forest providing fantastic rural views back to the elusive town, we realized we were out of luck.

We retraced our path not unduly sad at our failure to get to Vermenton and an hour later were entering Accolay from the far side of the village finding one of the smallest train stations I have seen.

 

Before arriving back at the quay with Mum wondering what on earth had happened. we had been gone nearly 3 hours. We explained that it had been a very long 2.7kms to Vermenton

 

We retired healthily fatigued having finally enjoyed a fine day both weather wise and excercise wise. It was a lovely feeling. 

Tuesday 21st May Get off the river Tout Suite

With another very wet morning, something we now took for granted, we were in no rush to leave and it was 10am when the eclusier knocked on the side of the boat asking us of our plans for the day. Caves of Bailly for lunch and then accolay for the night, I reported.
We set off half an hour later and by the next lock I was happy to see normal temperatures on both engines. The rain had abated to a steady light drizzle as we meandered through some very pleasant countryside and a couple of more locks. Arriving at Vaux, we recieved the grim news. "The navigation is closing tonight, the river is in flood and you must get off the river by tonight" the wet and concerned looking lockeeper confirmed my morning plans were ok as accolay is on a canal side cut. "how long is the closure?" I tentatively requested even though I new the answer. "je ne sais pas" perhaps 1,2,3 days perhaps a week. The skipper surpressed a few choice words but at least we had the cremant degustation just one lock away to look forward to.
We slip along a canal cut to enter the next lock spying the scots and english couple whose hireboat we had followed and locked with prior to our emergency fanbelt stop yesterday waiting to come back in the opposite direction. Strange, I pondered.
"Where are you going, the river is closing in 20 minutes (locks close for lunch 12 to 1), we have been told to get off the river tout suite"
"Thats not what I have been told" I boldly reply fearing the worst and tasting that cremant being poured back into the bottle.
I engage the drowned eclusier. He confirms the bad news. I argue that the last lockkeeper told me differently. He makes a call to the "chef"
Ok, you can proceed to Accolay but tout suite the locks will remain open for you so vitesse.
No degustation but at least we would make more progress. We soon passed the caves of Bailly as I pushed Doucette pleased to be given the all clear to break the 8km per hour speed limit these engines needed a bit of work. By now it was lashing down again. It must be serious for the guys to open locks in their sacred lunch hour so we were getting special treatment. This was confirmed at the next lock when the chef himself careered to a halt in a van with the usual female eclusier both exiting the car hurredly devouring sandwiches. The chef again encouraged me to tout suite as we exited and he would see us at the next lock.
we rounded the next bend and I spied a very low looking bridge. With the water so high, airdrafts were badly affected and we had all the covers up due to the rain and had just cleared a couple of bridges by a centimetre. This looked tight aswell with arched sides looking dodgy. I slowed almost to a standstill as we entered with Collette guiding me through from the bow. I spied something hanging low toward one side. It was a protection netting on a bar sometimes found on the sides of the bridges.
I warned collette who got a boat hook and tried to push it up as we were already half way under the bridge. She could not move it. I stopped the boat which, having no way on, immediately drifted sideways off of dead center where we cleared by mm`s. the tear as the canvas caught whilst I frantically pushed against the bridge sides was inevitable, but I daren`t hit the throttles. I managed to ease her toward the stbd side of the arch where we could just pass the bar and still clear the bridge and oh so carefully hand over hand in the old barge methods, slipped us through.
The damage was limited to a 2 inch tear in the hood canvas which the crew confirmed was an easy repair but it was still a very good reason to say "bloody rain" again. the covers would not have been up, the river would not have been so high and the arch would have been easily dropped and we would not have been under time pressures. all of which contributed to a slightly stressful few moments. As I said to the crew, it would have been strange to have had an incident free passage given our previous days. This picture of the offending bridge was taken some days later, click on photo and note the dropped iron net right of centre:-

we were now late on parade for the following lock where we new our gallant eclusiers would be impatiently waiting. they had other fish to fry with the massive work required on the many barrages in this sector of the Nivernais. On approaching the lock, I spied a madame dog walker wildly waving her hands indicating for me to slow down. I waved to acknowledge but the throttles stayed put. She got angry, very angry and was jumping up and down almost apoplectic now shouting at me. Still a tad stressed from the bridge incident, I was in no mood so I screamed back at her to go tell the vnf who were watching me just 200m away and that I was speeding at their request. She looked like one of those helium filled dolls where the helium had not been turned off. She just seemed to get bigger and bigger and redder and redder. I waved a cheery au revoir as I concentrated on the lock approach waiting to hear the pop as she undoubtedly exploded whilst spitting venemous abuse in my direction.
The lock keepers were laughing as I entered pointing toward her, they had witnessed the whole incident. They regarded the damaged cover giving that old french shoulder shrug "merde, mais c`est la vie"
We got to the Vermenton cutting without further incident and just had one lock to pass through to reach Accolay. We were now off the river so were safe but the last lock was still a hurdle as the eclusiers wife explained that he had been away at the barrages all day and she did not know when he would be back. she would text him. We sat on the waiting pontoon for an  hour before our two familiar friendly vnf couple pulled up apologising for the delay but explaining there were many problems today. We passed through the lock and I gave them a beer and a bar of chocolate as a token thankyou for thei sterling efforts in getting us here.
Accolay of course was full. It has a sloping quay which is not ideal for Doucette with twin shafts. We rafted alongside an obviously empty hire barge. A rather smart barge  "Randall" out of Southampton was in front and I decided I could squeeze in if she moved astern or forward 15ft which was possible.
It looked empty and a knock had no response. Half an hour later I spied movement. Tim from Norfolk was the owner and proprietor of the holiday barge. A very nice bloke, he soon moved and offered lots of local advice. He was here for two weeks having no clients til then. Delighted considering the weather.
Moored and with electric and water, I was happy to pay the young lady who called for our nightly fee the staggering 2 euros 60. In the evening the sun even popped its head through just to let us know it was still there.

 

 A baked camembert with smoked sausage,  potatoes gherkins and fresh baguette was a nice way to finish another interesting day.

Monday 20th May The Nivernais at last

It was pouring with rain as I opened my eyes and depression started to set in. surely this could not go on any longer. I was desperate for Mum to have some river time and enjoy some sun. she had contracted a cold early in the trip and the damp was not helping one little bit. By 9 it had eased so Collette and I went for an early morning stroll to get bread. We drifted down to the first Nivernais lock to check out the water availability and with the rain abating for a while we drifted around this quite magnificent town. I think I appreciated it more this time than our first visit last september. It really is beautiful. Mum had asked us to post some cards for her. Of course the post office was closed, it was pentecost day and a national holiday in France. Oh my lordy lordy lordy!

We ended up in the cloisters of the abbey where on that previous trip we had so enjoyed the "picnic in the abbey". There was a modern art exhibition on and wierdly the cloisters were full of striped deckchairs. I had a moment

 

After lunch we decided to make a break for it. I watered at the first lock and we slipped along heading for Bailly and the caves for some cremant degustation tomorrow. The rain got heavier as the afternoon progressed. We were just entering the fourth lock when Collette spotted an engine overheat. I dived down and checked strainers, nothing, then I spotted a floppy end of fanbelt flailing around. I could not believe it. What else could go wrong was my first words. We were approaching the lock with Collette at the helm on one engine. Pretty unhealthy situation really and she was getting nervy. I went up and we got into the lock behind a le boat hire craft without too much stress. Thankfully there was a waiting pontoon the other side. Unfortunately the first boats we had seen in the opposite direction where both tied up to it so I would have to somehow pass them before returning to try and come alongside on the one engine. On Doucette, not easy. Suffice to say that the skipper excelled himself and nothing was scratched in the manouvre but of course it was now a storm and we were like drowned rats.

I replaced the offending belt and settled down to a few beers and some wine contemplating the effect on the rivers of this incessant rain we were enduring and how many more running problems I was going to have. I should have known this year could not be a repeat of last years almost incident free season with regard to running issues.

 

Sunday 19th May Breton Festival

After a routine late breakfast, we took mum over the bridge to the port side of the river where the park was the scene for a Breton celtic Festival. We arrived as thankfully the bloody pipers were squeezing there last breaths out of those god awful pipes.

We had a  long chat with a Cider maker whose daughters live in London. Mum was caught up in the whole joi de vivre and got caught for a few samples.

After beers and with some dodgy breton dancers making shapes on stage,

Collette and I headed for the poissans Grille. Sardines for me, saumon for the crew. Lovely lunch!
With Mum shattered, we got her back to Doucette taking in the stunning views.

Before bumping into Eric and Jill. They had arrived in a cat and were med bound. They heralded from Port Solent so we had a bit of a neighbourly chat. Nice one and we will no doubt see them again as they are travelling the Nivernais route aswell.
I knocked up a curry for dinner before setting mum up with a movie whilst collette and I strolled back over to the festival site for the finale. The dancers had increased in number to around 120. They all seemed to know each dance for each song which all sounded the same to me but hey ho soul is more my bag. The headliners came on and as per, the sound was a major issue. The stetson, grey pony tailed, leather waistcoated knob pusher in the tent at the back who had been prancing around all day looking like he knew alice cooper was as much use as a fart in an elevator. We left after twenty minutes of one two one two, as did many of the unforgiving celt fanatics. Still it had been a fun night after a good day despite the continuing inclemant weather.

Saturday 18th May Should have been a mechanic!

Awoke putting my problems into context and despite another dose of heavy showers and thick grey cloud, I determined to get stuck in. Collette took Mum off to the tourist office where they took the 5euros 45minute tour of Auxerre in a tiny electric contraption. They reported a lovely excursion. Nice that I thought.
As per steves sage advice I had found an exploded view of my Morse mt3 dual gear and throttle unit. After all sorts of pushing and pulling, I had the unit in playtex mode, lifted and seperated. The problem was all too obvious, it was not a broken cable but a metal fatigued broken casing. the clutch control is fiex to the casing by a shaft through the case and held with a nut. There was a broken circle in the casing around the nut band the clutch assy was hanging loose.
I found a piece of steel and was able to fashion a bracket for repair. The hole I have drilled for the shaft is half a mm to small so I try and open with a bigger drill. I drop the bracket which unbelievably bounce straight over the side and drops to the bottom of the murky waters. I cuss repeatedly despite my mothers presence. A second bracket is then produced which I was able to secure to the casing and refit the nut. All back together and bugger, the problem is only half repaired. Stripped for the second time, I discover a second problem with a loosened circlip. Finally manage to repair this and finally have reason for celebration.
Untill I use the loo. With the ladies gone I decide to conserve electric and use mums loo which is a hand pump blakes. Trouble was, I pumped and cleared but no flush. I am gobsmacked. A nasty strip and no obvious problems. I fire a few bolts of air down the intake,with my quite superb lidles air bolt pump £6 worth of canal boaters joy and think I may have found the problem. Refitted and deep joy as we have flush again. Just as well as I have no replacement gasket so send an email to sister to ask her to get me one and bring it with her next week along with 3 big boxes of yorkshire gold and a big jar of marmite. And did those feet in ancient times and all that!
The rain still falls, this is getting rediculous, it must stop soon and its getting cold aswell.

Friday 17th May Joli Coeur!

I woke early today. It was just too much excitement! Checked in with Big chief Si and paid my final dues and handed over my car keys for safe keeping. Tearful emotional farewells to anybody that would listen before Doucettes lines were finally untethered and her bow pushed towards the middle of the still fast runningYonne under the steady throb of her old fords. I am sure Big chief Si wiped a tear as he waved for the last time as we drifted under the bridge and out of site of Evans marine bound for destination Auxerre. 5 locks and just 22kms to go. 500m round the corner, we approached Gravelines ecluse. A sea of debris and flotsam was settled for 30m across and out from the opened lock gates. The massive surge of water from the barrage would surely move it away fast and I called the lockkeeper to tell him I would wait 10 minutes. He advised me that there was some seriously big tree branches just under the water and great care was necessary if I wanted to continue the approach. I waited but incredibly the mass of debris appeared to be pinned in the same position by the current. It was decision time. I was the first boat through after the floods and every lock would probably hold the same dangers. Also, with each opening, it was unlocking the door for so much forest to come hurtling down river. This was not going to be straightforward.
I edged forward and tried to keep boat moving whilst maintaining position but soon my entry path was blocked by two huge trunks which were forcing me towards the barrage and the current suddenly had hold of doucette. she twisted beam on to the barrage, I opened the throttles and she battled towards the lock entrance. I was amazed how much power it was taking but at least as I surged the trunks had drifted slightly apart and I actually got through with just a passing clonk. Suddenly we were in, the eclusier smiled and gave that famous shrug which said, "I tried to tell you". 10 minutes later we were still sat there. A hotel barge rounded the corner and ploughed through the flotsam brutally splaying the tree trunks aside. They freed from the pinning current joined it and headed off at pace towards Migennes to cause carnage further down stream.
We made steady progress through the next two locks when the hotel barge asked to take the lead into the next lock. I was very happy to oblige. It had started raining steadily by now.
At the next lock, we had to wait for two barges who were heading down from Auxerre. As the first exited, I immediately recognised Ettie. We had shared a couple of days entering Paris 2 years ago and had crossed paths at Lutzelburg in the Alsace last year. I waved and we joked yet again about my smoky engines. Following her out was Joli Coeur, another barge we know and have met on the Marne and the marne au rhin last year. She appeared to have trouble getting out of the lock and seemed to get uncomfortably close to the waiting hotel barge which took avoidance action. We waved on passing and made our way toward the lock entrance. I immediately discovered why they had trouble. The current was horrid. The lock entrance was right at the side of the river and the water very turbulent, the current was all over the place and I again had to rely on Doucettes power to get me out of trouble to get into the lock. Another phew moment. This was supposed to be relaxing I pondered.
Next and last lock entering Auxerre, disaster strikes, just as we get into the lock, I hit reverse on stbd throttle and it jams. I bash the lock side with no steerage. Thank god it had not happened at the previous lock when it could have been catastrophic. I was able to use the wheelhouse helm for the last run in and to moor.
Once alongside, I called Big Chief Si to see if he had any cables as suspected a cable had broken. This was when I recieved the most horrific news that Joli Coeur had been holed entering a lock and had sunk at Gurgy where Simon was currently stood surveying the scene having been called out.. In fact, later reports confirmed that Joli Couer had hit the barrage wall on entering the lock we had seen them at. He had gashed a 2x6 inch hole and was taking on water. He actually went through a further lock before realizing what was happening and then it was too late and all happened very quickly. Basically they had wintered on the boat and so it was effectively their home and all their belongings were now under water. They at least were safe but it made us very very sad and served as a reminder that it may not be the sea but boating on these canals and waterways needs very much to be respected.
It was not the evening I had envisaged when we set off this morning and with another day tomorrow attempting repairs and not knowing what the problem was and if it was repairable, I phoned my guardian angel, smeds. He gave me the sort of advice I rely on and it was just good to hear his voice. oh and the rain continued to fall as we lamented the sadness of a couple we hardly know and yet as fellow boaters, feel so sorry for tonight with their summers plans in ruins at the bottom of the dangerous River Yonne.

Thursday 16th May Tiling Frenzy

Weather was rubbish again but good news was that the river was due to open tomorrow so I got into a tiling frenzy and simply tiled the day away. Still got another days work I reckon but very pleased with results so far. Went to bed dreaming of finally starting this years campaign properly tomorrow. It has been a long winter of waiting.