Rivers getting smaller and shallower but the red box is working a treat

Macon toward Chalon sur-Saone for St Jean in a single 12 hour day                                  

A convoy of 17km with an aggregate barge.

Fields of sunflowers and cows in the river enjoying the cool water

The early start herald an issue that we were too big to go into the marina at Chalon in 80km, if today went well we would push all the way for St Jean at 120k, or let’s see what lies on the bank side further up.

Macon, famous for flying boats, seven am local, we left the blue pylon marina and ran out into the take off strip of those bygone era float planes. Morning mist lay across the river, the sun low in the sky danced in the trees, as we looked into the shadow’s, I think we got a glimpse of the pre-war flying boat waiting for its guests. For sure there were many fishermen out for their morning catch, bobbing about like the teacup rides at Alton Towers with the same level of anticipation. The river here was wide and straight, port and starboard markers broke the line as we weaved about for depth but as much as six meters came up under the boat. Mist rising, by eight we passed the green metal arch of Fleurville bridge, a fisherman by the arch casting his rod from a single round dingy not much larger than a truck inner tube. Throttles would be up and down to soften our wake for the fishermen, but we were making a healthy seven knots on the very still river. A small tributary but definitely the River Seine joined us as we yearned for the call of Paris but not this time, heading for the first lock so early we hoped it was open. Passing the town of Tournos, the locals had said we may not have fitted on the pontoon but as we cruised by we smiled as there was plenty of room but it was too soon in the day.

Epic first lock, arriving in view as a small green barge exited, green light and in, Wow a quick entry and a sliding bar, what a result. Crazy parents cleared the lock to join a skype business meeting without missing a beat, life on holiday with the bus man! Plenty of fisherman today enjoying the still river and cloudy day so speed variable but not for the locals as their waves rock the boat as they pass. Sleepy villages built on the banks of the river with bygone industries crumbling into the banks and moorings put in their place but not for this Sunseeker, this African Queen is too long. Steady as she blows!

Chalon by lunch time, town both sides of the river, a magic banking of flowers marked ‘merci’ with the graphic of a COVID nurse. Commercial docks above the town, three cruise barges rafted silently.  A green aggregate barge pulled out ahead of us, heading upriver, we were in convoy, he led perfect lines for the deepest part of the river in the twisting turns of the next fifteen kilometres. Pulling over at the 157 marker board, a convoy of 17km, commercial chums on the river. Back alone for twisting turns and open countryside, cattle, white cows, brown and white cows, grey cows, what was really fun is the cows come down into the river edge, stand in the river to drink, what a perfect life in the hot sun of the French countryside. Bit of engineering required, we had to change the batteries in the autopilot handset, that’s hands free on a grand scale, perish having to stand at the steering wheel!

We came upon Gergy a campsite with pontoons to moor, various hire boats growing in number, they have giant blue brollies above the helm to help with the sunshine. >From Gergey bridge we pushed on with a vision for a big mileage day. Scary set of old locks at Chauvert, both disused and abandoned, the cuts all still there. Very eyrie as we slipped passed with no need of fenders for those ones, the river beyond the disused locks noticeably narrowed and dropped to around four meters of olive green water, rich trees climbed up the banks and for all the World we could have been on the Thames in the reaches towards Marlow. But then Ecuelles lock arrived, a bay with 3.2m of rise, but nothing in the Thames hits the size of these locks in length and width, giant tunnels of concrete. Straight in and tied up, lock keeper, ‘No English’ He played a recording in English, ‘twenty minutes wait to conserve water’ How cool is that, cleverly moved up lock in case a hire boat arrived. From here the river became a little narrower as we wound up the last run to Seurre lock, mixed luck, please wait an hour, ‘we are conserving water.’ Upside was a 100m visitor pontoon for the village of Seurre with one boat on it. We tied up double quick, strongly considered a night in this tiny lock town. But tiny it was and no baggettes.

The lock opened on the hour, green light and we cast off the mooring for a hasty entry. Only one in and feeling small, the lock waters rose from the centre of the floor not the gate, that’s cool technology. Gates open, radio call to say thank you and were off and this time we are travelling above ground, not a viaduct just banked higher than the land around us.

Sunflower’s like a battalion of soldiers, stand straight in rows as the cornfields wave at them. Marker boards gone up, suddenly we add 10 kilometres to our journey, ouch. Must be wrong so back to the basic map reading and we know we are going the right way. The new lock cut is an addition, from the cut to St Jean add almost 10k. Just short of twelve hours we pulled into St Jean town, circled under the bridge before retreating into the H2O marina. Green algae all about the water, this was also a hire boat base, as we arrived the last tourist left for the evening.

St Jean 47:06.30N  05:15.63E

Sticking out a little in St Jean