St Jean d’ Losne to Dole                                    

Canal du Rhone au Rhin, three locks in the first kilometre and no tea breaks.

Makes the Thames look like a motorway.

Toothpaste in a tube and that’s the canal, the lock is smaller.

Palm to mainland Spain, French Med, Rhone River to Lyon, Soane canal to St Jean, an evening in the H2O boat yard, almost a lie in, a quick shop at the marina side Giant mini mart, some fuel from the gasoile pontoon. Just a few kilometres up the Soane river, then today a right turn into a tiny lock gate, this was the Canal du Rhone au Rhin.  Also known as the Doubs river.

Our thoughts for the Marne towards Reims for the river Nord to Dunkerque ended when French waterways closed the canal north of Reims, too short of water. Rhone au Rhin had not been available as the Dole lock was kaput, trees fallen into the canal, they had been cleared, the Dole lock was open. We have a route towards Strasbourg, it’s a long way, very narrow and more than seventy locks, 5 days on a very good run. From Strasbourg we have the Rhine, no locks, ships and speed, a way home toward Rotterdam.

Golly every day is an adventure and this one begins with a very nice French lock master who greats us in the first lock and hands us the remote control, press the L for language and choose between French, German or English. Magic, this remote operates the locks, as you approach it gets signal and everything goes auto. Lights activate sluices move gates work, how cool is that?

These locks reminded us of the commercial barge locks on the Rhone. The giant barge slipped in with inches to spare, well blimey, that’s us on the Rhone au Rhin, the fenders are tight both sides and we scrub in fender to wall. They have rise around four meters and ropes are conventional on bollards above the wall, loops and hoops to lasso. Not like we are going anywhere, until the sluice opens and the lock fills at turbocharge speed.

The friendly lockmaster said something like a kilometre to the first of three locks, what we found out was the first three locks were within a single kilometre. No time for tea breaks on this run. No autopilot, hand steer, no idea how you pass someone the other way. We sit at 4.6m beam and its like toothpaste in a tube on the early canal run. Stress only topped by sweat from the thirty-five-degree heat, whirring of giant MAN turbos spinning only subdued by the cooling fans pumping gallons of air into the engine bay.  Then check the depth gauge running deep when we have a meter under the boat, chocolate brown mud makes a nice wake and green growth of all things water separates across the bow as we cut algae like an icebreaker pushing sea ice, but how pretty do the yellow flowers on the lily pads look.

Outside the world of the boat this is extraordinary, we are motoring through folk’s back yards, standing above their garden fence we join in conversation with the locals whilst across a field the French tractor driver cuts summer grass. We take a turn into a long straight run with monster reeds so tall and so close they are inside the portholes. Bridge height is claimed at three point five meters, we measure at 3.46 and bridge five the air horns scream out from the roof as they scrape down the concrete bridge, wow, they never made a sound like that when we press those buttons, blimey yes they still work. Toothpaste and tube, sideways, top and bottom. Cyclist follow a continuous towpath and gasp as they see this giant white English Sunseeker floating down the most remote French countryside you ever did imagine. Filters at the top of our thoughts as we hope the lily pads are still floating

Today’s target was Dole, map book said six and half hours and well that’s what we took, seven locks and twenty-two kilometres, Star Trek, spaceship Enterprise sat above in the form of a mighty white concrete flyover for the French autoroute. Below we enjoyed an ocean of water at least twenty meters wide as the canal turned river for a moment and then alas returned to a canal in a single twist. One last challenge of an S bend entry into the town lock, then a hairpin turns fit for Druids at Brands Hatch and we came upon the fairy tale town in the countryside with a run of pontoons and hook up power boxes. Don’t get over excited, eight meter pontoons for a twenty meter boat are some challenge, a splendid diamond rig of rope work and we sat solid in a river so still we could get away with it, popped the lid on the toothpaste, sat and celebrated with a baguette and melting brie.

Makes the Thames look motorway like!

Dole 47:05.51N 05:29.82E