To Champagne

For two days we enjoyed the free moorage in La Chesne with free shore power and water. There were bouts of very heavy rain on Tuesday, 27 August as a series of thunderstorms rolled through, but generally the weather was fine. We had an artisanal bakery just across the street and a good 8 à Huite supermarket across the first bridge and along half a block. 

The town is important enough to have two bridges across the canal, and on a couple of occasions we stood on the one above Zonder Zorg watching the passing commercial barges. There was a regular shuttle of barges past us, with the same half dozen coming and going every few hours, so we knew there was something going on not far along the canal.

We spent our time casually exploring the small town and relaxing onboard. When the weather permitted, we sat in the cockpit to dine on the wonderful items we had found in the market.

We were gathering energy for the next leg of our journey. A kilometre along from us was the first of a series of 26 locks that would drop us in rapid succession more than 80 metres down to the Aisne. From there another two locks and 8 kilometres would take us to Attigny, the next stopping place.

At 0851 we slipped our lines and continued along the bief toward the first lock, arriving just after the system had been switched on for the day. This was our first down lock since we entered the Maas at Maasbracht in late July, and it was a joy to be able to simply drop the mooring lines over the bollards as we entered the chamber.

As we exited the lock, we saw the next one little more than a hundred metres further on.

When we entered the second lock, we saw a commercial barge rising in the third. While we were being lowered, the commercial began leaving, and by the time our doors had opened, it was in the centre of the very short bief.

We slowly danced around each other and headed into our respective locks.

These locks were built to the dimensions devised by Charles de Freycinet in 1879 when he was the French Minister of Public Works; he later served four times as Prime Minister of France. The chambers are 39 metres long, 5.2 metres wide and 2.2 metres deep to accommodate barges with a maximum size of 38.5 metres by 5.05 metres by 1.8 metres. Because a laden barge is within a few centimetres of the size as the lock, it takes much longer for it to pump its way into an up-bound lock or out of a down-bound one. We had already settled into our lock and set it in motion while the commercial was still churning its way into its lock.

The fourth lock is only 600 metres from the first.

We continued in rapid succession through locks 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8, admiring along the way the old lock houses. Now that the locks have been automated, there is no need for a resident lock keeper, so many of these houses are vacant, though some have been rented out. The old lock house at Écluse 8 is still waiting for a tennant.

We arrived at Écluse 9 with the normal red and green lights showing, indicating that it was being prepared for us. We backed and filled in the approaches for ten minutes with no action from the lock. There are no mooring bollards in the waiting area, so I approached the grassy bank, dropped the spud pole and took a stern line to an old telephone pole across the towpath.

I walked up to the control building, pushed the intercom button and was immediately answered. I said: “Nous descendons à l'écluse 9, mais il est en panne”, We are descending at Lock 9, but it is not working. I received an immediate “J’arrive”, I am coming.

We had been at the lock for three-quarters of an hour by the time the roving lock keeper arrived. An up-bound commercial was by this time in Écluse 10, so we needed to wait for it to finish there and then be lifted in Écluse 9. Meanwhile a down-bound commercial had caught-up to us and was waiting just upstream. Since we move through the locks much more quickly than the Freycinet barges, we were asked to go ahead as soon as the up-bound cleared. We entered and watched the two commercials dance past each other in the narrow bend.

We continued along uneventfully, quickly passing through the locks. Increasingly the lock houses were lived-in and well cared for. At Écluse 14 we had passed the midway point down the flight. In the chamber I had selected a set of bollards that placed our stern rather close to the upstream gates. 

This would normally have been no problem, but the level of the upstream water was several centimetres higher than the gates and as we descended in the chamber, an increasingly high waterfall emerged, its spray wetting our cockpit and nicely cooling me in the heat of midday.

As we arrived in Éclise 15 we saw a sign on the downstream gates advising of dragage dans la bief, dredging in the pound. Below us we saw a Freycinet commercial alongside a scow with a mechanical shovel on it. The shovel appeared to be just finishing loading the barge with dredges from the canal bottom.

As we left the lock, the Freycinet slipped from the scow and headed upstream and we snaked a course leaving the Freycinet to port and the scow to starboard as we aimed for the next lock chamber.

I figured that we were now beyond the source of all the commercial activity we had seen upstream and that it was unlikely we would encounter any more commercial traffic for a while.

Shortly after 1400 we arrived at Écluse 26, the last of the chain of automated locks.

At 1421 we had locked through and entered l’Aisne. It had taken us five and a half hours to transit the twenty-six locks and nine kilometres distance from Le Chesne, including nearly an hour and a half waiting at Écluse 9. The FluviaCarte says: “It takes 7 hours to go down the automatic set and the next shops are at Attigny a day’s navigation away”. The phrasing of this was a bit confusing to me, but it was clarified when I saw Attigny was only ten kilometres along from the bottom of the set.

After less than a kilometre we passed through a low lock taking us from the river and back into la Canal des Ardennes. We hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so after we had passed through, Edi prepared a platter of open face sandwiches; fresh lox and capers on chaource slathered multigrain baguette slices.

We devoured these and dishes of olives as we followed the canal’s meander through a lush forest. At 1531 we secured alongside in the halte nautique d’Attigny. A quick visit to the supermarket two blocks away gave us the fresh ingredients for a delicious dinner. We relaxed onboard, pleased that the day had gone so easily.

On Thursday morning we slipped our lines at 0842 and continued downstream, arriving Écluse Givry at 0900 as it was activated for the day. It was a slightly hazy day, which caused the sun to play wonderful light on the passing scene.

After we had passed through the lock, Edi went below and prepared a large pan of pain perdu au lardons for our breakfast. We enjoyed this with cups of espresso as we followed the winding canal along the 7.9 kilometres to the next lock.

The calmness of the day and the gentle morning sun offered wonderful scenes as we slowly made our way alone along the canal. We were surprised by, but delighted with the lack of traffic. We had the canal to ourselves, and except for the commercial activity around the dredging at Montgon, this has been the case since we left the Netherlands. We have shared only five locks and at our evenings’ stops, there have rarely been more than two or three other boats, if any at all. Most of these have been Dutch flagged and heading back to the Netherlands. 

Among the bushes along the banks we had spotted a cotoneaster plant filled with red berries, but we were well past it before Edi thought some branches would make a nice addition to the potted hydrangea we had in the bucket at the bow. I kept a sharp lookout for the next bush, and after a couple of kilometres, we found one to nose into.

A little further along the canal we spotted an apple tree heavily hung with reddening apples. I quickly reversed and maneuvered the bow under the branches, and as we slowly drifted, we quickly picked all we could reach. Edi brought a boathook and we used it to bend a few more branches into reach. The apples were at a point of ripeness where they almost fell into our hands. We left with about ten kilos and continued along the canal.

The canal winds through mostly rural countryside, with a mix of pasture and forest along its banks. It is a very pleasant and peaceful route with an occasional tiny village, a distant steeple and a few impressive private estates. 

After four locks and 18.8 kilometres, at 1220 we secured to the wall in the halte nautique de Rethel. The moorage is clean and well organised, and it is only two hundred metres from a supermarket and the beginning of a rather large shopping district. We walked through the town centre up the hill to église St Nicolas. 

We admired the intricate stonework on its windows and doors.

We had a leisurely breakfast the next morning and slipped our lines at 0935. Our intended destination was Asfeld, a small village twenty-two kilometres and four locks further along. We motored through pleasant forests with the calm water covered by dust and pollen.

It gently moved aside as we glided through, leaving a beautiful pattern in our stern. The guide showed Asfeld as having a simple moorage, but when we arrived shortly after 1300, we found it rather grubby and barren, so we decided continue on.

The next village that showed a mooring possibility was Guignicourt, sixteen kilometres and two locks further along. Within three kilometres we had passed through the last lock of the canal, Écluse Vieux-les-Asfeld. We had come to the end of le Canal des Ardennes and entered le Canal Latéral à l’Aisne.

Edi brought up a tray of cheeses, breads, olives and sliced meats for us to nibble on as we made our way along the 6.8 kilometres to the next lock.

As we nibbled we were mesmerised by the reflections in the water as they made wonderful designs with the pilings along the canal banks. Shortly before 1600 we passed straight through Guignicourt, seeing no reason to stop there. The moorings are semi-derelict and are situated next to a sugar refinery and some huge grain silos. They offer no facilities and no charm. The town is a kilometre away and across two bridges. We continued on.

At 1602 we secured alongside the bank at the entrance to la Canal de l’Aisne à la Marne. We slipped in between a Frecinet peniche and a British cruiser with a metre or so to spare each end. There were other mooring places available, but they were all occupied by the complex sprawling of gear of a dozen or more anglers. I had long ago learned that you do not disturb the anglers; overnight vandalism to boats seems directly related.

About an hour after we arrived, Hensie, a deeply laden peniche arrived and asked the British boat to move, explaining it was in the only deep moorage available. The British boat skipper refused to move, indicating the commercial site further along, so Hensie’s skipper gently rafted onto him, dropping his spud pole to secure the bow a quarter metre off.

His bow overlapped Zonder Zorg by about five metres, so he could use our uncluttered foredeck for easy access to and from the shore. We later learned that Hensie’s load was for the industrial site about two hundred metres further along the canal with ample deep moorage, but the bargee said it was too dusty over there and mooring there would mean having to clean the barge.

At 0840 on Saturday morning we slipped our lines and backed out from under the bows of Hensie and around those of Medea, the peniche that was moored astern of us. 

A hundred metres along we came to the entrance to Canal de l’Aisne à la Marne. We could see no control device to activate the lock, which the FluviaCarte listed as automatic, nor could we see any indication there was a lock keeper. After we had nosed up to the lock and had made it very obvious that we wanted to enter, the red light changed to red and green, indicating the lock was being prepared for us. We assumed that there is a lock keeper at Écluse Berry, the next lock along Canal Latéral à l’Aisne a hundred or so metres along from us, and that he controls both locks.

The first lock house appeared to be abandoned, though it still seemed to be in reasonable condition. We were again in up-bound locks, so we changed our routine. As I slowed the barge in the chamber, I threw a stern line up the 2.5 metres to loop a bollard at the top of the wall, ran out three or four metres and secured the line to stop us. Leaving the engine in gear and pulling on the spring, I then climbed the ladder and went forward to take the bow line from Edi, who was still nursing broken ribs from a nephew’s overzealous hug, and couldn’t toss a line up to the bollard.

It was drizzling lightly as we worked our way up the canal and we seemed to be the only people around.

Then around a bend came an unladen peniche. We waved acknowledgements as we passed.

A couple of locks further on we had to wait while another down-bound commercial worked its way through the lock.

The lock house at Écluse Loivre, the fifth lock was nicely maintained and obviously occupied.

We passed through a few small villages, but mostly the canal sides were agricultural land, predominantly wheat and sugar beet. The drizzle became intermittent and there was some detail coming to the bottoms of the clouds.

After nine locks and eighteen kilometres we came to the industrial outskirts of Reims.

Five kilometres further along, we were still in unattractive surroundings as we approached the Relais Nautique de Vieux Port, the pleasure boat marina. Its maximum size is listed as 15 metres, too small for Zonder Zorg, so we continued past. Besides, it is very noisy and exhaust fumed with the Autoroute directly across the canal and busy stop-and-go urban traffic alongside the marina.

At 1352 we secured a kilometre further along on a stone wall with good bollards. Directly beside us was a very busy traffic lighted intersection, and as we sat there we could not relax. We decided to have lunch and then continue on up the canal.

Finally, after four more locks and another ten kilometres, we arrived in Sillery, and at 1633 we secured to the wall directly in front of the Capitainerie.

Sillery is one of the seventeen Grand Cru villages of the Champagne, and among the things I learned during my decades as a wine importer and wine writer, is that where there is great wine, there is great food. A trip to the Intermarché just along the canal from us proved this, and we found wonderful ingredients for a dinner to celebrate our arrival in Champagne.

Continuing Into France

On Wednesday evening, 21 August we had secured along the wall just above bridge in Givet. A block in from the river is a Carrefours City, a small urban version of the huge chain supermarket and in it we had found more than ample supplies for our celebratory dinner. On Thursday morning we walked across the bridge to Notre Dame and headed through the town and out beyond it following directions to the BricoMarché. 

We needed a floodlight for the two tunnels that were just ahead of us at Ham and at Revin. The FluviaCarte states: “these tunnels have no illumination, so a floodlight is needed”. We had found several great rechargeable lights at Canadian Tire the previous week in Moncton, but they were all 120 volt only, not 120/240. After a three kilometre walk we arrived at the shopping plaza to find that the BricoMarché was closed, so we went into its sister, the Intermarché, but found no lights.

While we were in the supermarket, we bought some fresh produce, baking and groceries so that the trip wasn’t wasted. Back onboard, I dug out two LED flashlights and decided they were sufficient. The longer of the tunnels was only 500 metres. At 1350 we slipped our lines and continued upriver under the ramparts of le fort de Charlemont. The fort was built in 1555 by Charles V and remodelled by Vauban in the seventeenth century.

The size and complexity of the works tell of the strategic importance of the site. The Meuse has been a major trading route back into prehistory.

We arrived at the next lock, Les 3 Fontaines, which was manned, and again l’eclusier took our lines from the lip of the chamber with a hook.

Immediately out of the lock we came to Tunnel de Ham, and as we approached it, we could easily see the light at the far end of the tunnel. Having no floodlight seemed now to be of even less concern. I simply stood on the centreline with the tiller behind my back and aimed the mast at the light at the end of the tunnel.

After 500 metres we were through.

Within another half kilometre we came to the next lock, which thankfully at 3.2 metres in height, was manned. Madame l’eclusier came out and took our mooring lines on a hook and placed them over bollards.

We thanked her for her assistance as we were leaving the chamber. 

She confirmed that we had a remote-control, telling us that the next fifty or so locks are all automatic unmanned.

We headed out of the lock and along the 800 metre derivation toward the river. The chart showed a pont levis méchanisé, a mechanised lift bridge just before regaining the river, and I wondered whether the remote control worked for it. As we approached, I saw there was no concern; the bridge had been jerry-rigged in a partly-open position to give the 3.5 metre  required clearance.

Once we were back out into la Meuse, Edi brought up a tray with a selection of salami, paté, pears, olives, cheeses and bread for us to nibble on as we continued upstream.

After twenty-four kilometres and six locks, at 1802 we stopped for the day at the Halte Nautique de Fumay. 

On Friday morning, after a leisurely breakfast, we walked to the tourist information office and made use of their free wifi connection to catch-up. Then shortly before 1300 we slipped our lines and continued upstream. La Meuse describes a rather winding course through this area, and during the first four kilometres after leaving Fumay, we steered every point of the compass.

After two locks we came to the Revin Tunnel, the second unlit tunnel for which we were warned to have a floodlight. 

Since the warning was written in the chartbook, lights have been installed, though likely these are to illuminate the cycle path that appears also to have new guardrails. 

After we had cleared the tunnel and the lock following it, Edi went below and prepared a tray of nibblies for lunch and we enjoyed them as we made our way toward the next lock.

As we waited for ecluse Dames de Meuse to cycle, we were entertained by swans, which eagerly posed alongside or with a gracefully arched railway bridge as a backdrop.

At 1728 we secured alongside at the halte nautique de Laifour. It is a very small village, and a placard next to the mooring suggested that bakery goods be reserved the day before, so I walked up to the depot de pain in the small tabac across from the Mairie in the centre of the tiny business section. I ordered four croissants and a baguette for the next morning and madame said they would be available from 0800.

We relaxed onboard in the peaceful little moorage, enjoying glasses of Blanche de Namur, biere sur lie, the 2012 winner of the title “World’s Best White Beer”.

It began raining just as I returned onboard with the bread and croissants on Saturday morning, and after espressos and croissants in the dry of the cabin, we donned our rain gear and continued up river. Our destination was Charleville-Mézières, our first large community since Namur.

Mézières was founded in the ninth century and half a century ago it amalgamated with the new town across the river, Charleville, which dates only to the seventeenth century. With la Meuse taking a very winding course through the city and offering over six kilometres of riverfront, we were looking forward to a pleasant scene. Among the places we wanted to see is Place Ducal, reputed to be one of the most beautiful squares in Europe. 

Twenty-seven kilometres and four locks along from Laifour we began winding our way through industrial slums and crumbling canal-side infrastructure, which continued unrelieved by any pleasant scenery for over four kilometres. Adding to the glumness was the persistent rain. We passed through ecluse Montcy and followed signs to le Port de Plaisance, the pleasure boat port and found the mooring places filled with residential barges. We continued along to the marina, where we saw only a dozen or so boats scattered around the eighty mooring pontoons. We also saw notice that the marina was restricted to boats under 14 metres in length.

We turned around just above the weir and found a spot on a concrete abutment below a pedestrian bridge. There were already two boats on it and the remaining space was sufficiently long to take almost two-thirds of Zonder Zorg’s length, leaving the stern hanging out. As we were securing, the heavy rain turned into an intense thunderstorm. Thus far we had seen nothing of the city except crumbling industrial areas or a solid screen of unkempt heavily vegetated riverbank, beyond which we could see no attractive buildings nor any pleasantness.

While we sat comfortably below in the torrential downpour, I searched the Barge Association forum and waterways guide for information on Charleville-Mézières. I found warnings of bicycle thefts from boat decks, of loud late night drunken partying by local youth in the park next to the moorage and of a barge having its moorings undone in the middle of the night and left to drift downstream toward the weir. Because of the heavy rain we felt safe from vandals, so we spent the night. Nonetheless, we decided to move on first thing the next morning.

At 0841 on Sunday, 25 August we slipped and continued up la Meuse, arriving after two more kilometres of bland scenery at ecluse Mézières, just as the lock system was turned on for the day at 0900. The lock has a lift of 3.4 metres, and the flood wall at the top of the chamber adds a similar height. There are no bollards in the walls of the chamber, so while I stabilised the boat, Edi took the bow line up the slimy ladder, which had been soaking in the filled chamber overnight. The rungs were all bent and twisted out of shape, likely from barges using them to secure on the way up.

Edi secured the line to a bollard and then tried to find a way to take the stern line. The new lock house had been built directly on the edge of the chamber and safety fencing had been placed to make it dangerous for lock users and impossible for boaters to toss a line to a bollard. Lying next to the lock house was a long pipe with a hook on its end, but it was too heavy for Edi to safely use. I resorted to using the ladder rungs, just as their distortions attest to many having done in the past. 

When Edi had activated the chamber, it seemed that all the sluices opened at once, sending great torrents of water flooding in. The lock seems to have been designed by non-boaters.

We continued along the river for another fifteen kilometres and two more locks, where at 1227 we passed through ecluse Meuse and entered le Canal des Ardenes. After one more lock, at 1330 we secured on the canal bank just beyond Pont-à-Bar. There are bollards along both sides of the canal for 250 to 300 metres, but they were filled with the bangy-boats of a rental base on the one side and half the other side was taken-up by a boat repair company’s works-in-progress. The remainder of the bollards were occupied by long-term and semi-derelict boats. We dropped the spud pole to secure the bow and pounded a steel pin into the bank to take our stern line.

In a light drizzle on Monday, we raised the spud pole, retrieved our mooring pin and at 0810 we headed up the canal, our departure timed to have us arrive at the first lock as it opened for navigation at 0900.

As we motored, Edi went below to prepare some breakfast panini, which we enjoyed with cups of espresso.

While we ate we watched the passing scene as we glided through tranquil rural villages and past pastures of grazing cattle. The drizzle had abated to light mist and there was a growing warmth from the sun as it worked at burning through the dissipating clouds.

The first lock was followed immediately by a right-angled turn into a second lock, which led into a short tunnel leading through a narrow ridge. The canal here follows the course of a small river, la Bar, which wanders off eastward in a long loop of a dozen or more kilometres around the end of the ridge. 

While it is doing that, the locks and tunnel take about half a kilometre to make the same progress along the river.

Fourteen kilometres and two more locks brought us to ecluse Sauville, the final up lock on the canal. From here, a 9.6 kilometre bief de partage, connecting reach or summit pound takes us to the beginning of a steep descent down into the vallée de l’Aisne.

At 1315 we secured to the wall at the halte nautique in Le Chesne. This consists of a 40 metre indentation in the stone walls on each side of the canal next to the narrow bridge opening. There is no fee and the moorage is supplied with free electrical outlets, water points, garbage bins and recycling containers. We decided to stay a couple of days, relaxing and getting ready for the twenty-eight locks in the next leg.