The Canal du Nord
Beowulf
Tom Fenton and Faith Ressmeyer
Mon 27 Oct 2014 19:08
So here I am in Picardy, and tomorrow I shall be following the Somme for a while. Tonight I shall dream of trenches, and cavalry detachments in hilltop copses, and mud, and misery. But today, which started with a long, lingering, and chilly mist, turned into a sunny, hot afternoon. Every morning I have a battle with the spiders who wish to take over the cockpit.
I set off at first light. There was no met then, but it soon developed, until a point came when I could not see far enough ahead to know whether there was anything I ought to give way to in a narrow section where only one way traffic was possible.
Okay, the eagle eyed will have noticed the sun in this photo, which means I was looking astern, since I am heading northwest, I hope, hat being the general direction of Wivenhoe.
I tied up to a tree, washed up the breakfast things, made elevenses and lunch, rigged a plug for the new electric horn, and then gave up waiting for the mist to clear. With several long loud blasts on the horn I sailed through the narrow stretch, into the last lock on that canal, and entered the Canal Latéral à l'Oise.
Another new experience. A wide and probably elegant canal (hard to be sure, but looked fine in the mist, except for this bit where a tree had fallen into the canal and not yet been moved) with double locks, which means one for each direction, so your side is always open to you unless someone has just gone in ahead and filled it. The first lock-keeper there came out and shook my hand and told me about his holiday visit to Scotland and how he had made a special trip to admire the rising step locks on the Caledonian Canal. He was impressed. Not half as much as I was with his dedication to his job.
After another of these double locks it was time to leave this canal and turn in to the Canal du Nord. I think this is the second last major hurdle: two tunnels and 95 kilometres of it. Then there is the Canal à Grand Gabarit, at 137ks, which I think takes me to Dunkerque. You will have noticed I took off another degree of longitude today. Only two degrees of longitude between me and Wivenhoe.
This is a canal with locks as large as those on the Rhone. Only trouble is, they don't have floating bollards. When rising, you enter the lock, find one of he bollards inset in the lock wall, put your bow and stern lines round it to keep yourself and the boat steady, then as you rise you lift the ropes onto the next bollard above. There are five in all.
I don't know if it sounds difficult. It isn't really, but there is that element of stress that you might miss one and then be all at sea in an enormous lock with strong turbulence.
I managed the first tunnel today but there is another, much longer one to come. So long it has two way traffic in the middle. There have been so many barges today, it is likely I will have to go through at barge pace. Sometimes they come in pairs abreast. A little disconcerting.
Always they churn up the water in the canal, turning the placid Beowulf into a bucking bronco for the next 200 yards (meters).
This afternoon I found myself down to the last quarter tank of diesel, so I spent the last hour of daylight walking 2kms to a petrol station and 2 km's back with Jerry cans. Should keep me going for a few more days. Good night, all.