Lock 35 to Mulhouse 23kn, 15 locks                                        

Lock 35 bridge challenge, 15 French folk on the back!

One large French husband was called, and he alone was worth a whole centimetre!

Eleven hours, almost time for the nav lights on arrival.

It was past lunch time. Our day began on the water at nine, started at nine thirty after a second boat in a convoy with us for the lock escort failed to start its engines. Aware there was low water ahead we ran ultra-slow for the shallow depth, we dropped 750kg of water to raise the boat a little we had been trapped in the algae blocked lock. Our arrival at Mulhouse for five was long gone. The VNF team said no problem, we will see you in whatever the time, wow, well done the VNF water authority teams.

From the broken lock at 35 we made the next four locks in good time, these lower reaches had much more water in them, we ran high having ditched all our tank water, there was room under the boat and we made as much as five knots of speed with out touching down on any mud in the bottom of the canal. The water was high, the boat was high. Arrived lock 39, directly beyond the lock was a bridge marked 3.60m. It did beg the question, in a canal registered for 3.50m clearance, why do you mark a tall one that’s at 3.60?  The answer to that lay in the reality of where the river height sat, no idea how they measured this, those early reaches between locks had been low, but here the reach was very high, the water level brimming over the lock wall. Balancing 15 locks in a fall is no easy task and add the upper shortages of water it was a task of best balance.

Let’s not forget, we got under a 3.40 with the help of six French men on the back of the boat, and we got under a 3.30 angular bridge with the VNF lady dropping water from the lock for us. We edged up to the 3.60m, clearly the locals had some knowledge of what was going to happen. A French man in the lock held our stern rope, he knew what was going to happen! The MAN engines reversed and held us steady with his help. Don’t forget, we have every last thing of the roof, even the mounts for the satellite domes, aerial bracket, poppers and all the canvas. We were still ten cm to tall.

Wow, ten cm, that’s a lot.  The boat was light, missing 750kg of water, the diesel tanks lower than the earlier bridges, we had not refuelled since leaving the Soanne river at St Jean. The boat was light, maybe five cm tall but we were ten cm too tall, the French folk were building in number on the bridge. Have become a bit of a dab hand at getting under impassable bridges. Recruitment drive was on, the first dozen French men and women must have been worth a hundred kilos each, that made up for the missing water and the half empty diesel tanks. Five cm left to go. The VNF team made for the next lock and started draining the reach, twenty minutes later we still needed two cm more.

The town locals were having a ball, discussion on the height, the water level, the algae, it was all kicking off, simple physics, we needed more weight. A petit French lady on her phone called for her husband two houses down the local narrow road. Wow, he was huge. He clambered down the lock ladder forwards, stepped on to the rear platform and the boat rocked to his side. With what had become fourteen others we now had fifteen French helpers on the back, the ladies watching from the bridge above cheered and clapped. The French man on the rope holding us in the lock eased the line, edged up very tight, the fenders on the radar arm wings at the very top held us solid against the bridge. A little throttle on one engine and the boat eased gently enough to sit under the concrete, there was no clearance, fender against concrete, the water pressure gentle pushed us under, cm at a time for what appeared an age. A deafening crescendo of applause as the radar arm popped up on the other side of the concrete bridge. The French ladies so proud of their husbands weighing down the rear, well done that last big chap, he alone was worth a whole cm!

Waves, cheers, hooters, everyone on the bridge in applause to the local team who had weighed down the marooned English motor yacht under lock 35 bridge. Golly it was seven pm, we had been set to be in Mulhouse at five, the VNF lock keeper escort never left our side, they were as relived as us to see the boat under that bridge.  The two following locks to Mulhouse cleared well, we got the magic iconic photo of the giant white suspension arm bridge entry to Mulhouse town. The VNF team had one last concern, the last lock followed to a bridge marked 3.40. Ouch, one last hurdle after a very long day. How on earth could we clear a 3.40 when it took the weight of fifteen French folk to get under 3.60 two locks before.

The VNF team smiled, waved us forward, the reach here was clearly shallow, we were almost happy to be turning propellers in the mud and sailed under the three forty with five cm clear. The water levels clearly very difficult to balance and lets not forget they were flooding reaches below us to get us under bridge 35.

The Capitanery of Mulhouse had all the news of our adventures on the local telegraph, he smiled and waved us in. Eight pm, almost time for navigation lights to be turned on as we swung in the safety of the Mulhouse marina. In what had become classic manoeuvres we tied twenty meters of boat on an eight meter pontoon, plugged in shore power, took breath and relief from an epic day of broken lock gates, deep algae, logs in the canal and warmed from the support and help of those fifteen French people weighing us under the lock 35 bridge to get us here.                              

Lock 35 against the concrete bridge

Mulhouse 47:44.57N 07:20.48E