The Petit Rhone north                                                                                  

7th August

Flies replaced the mosquitoes. Time for mesh screens in the portholes.

Beuacire lock and a birth at Vallabregues. Yes, it was very hot.

43:40.18N 04:28.05E Locked into the Petit Rhone through a long concrete lock fit for a small ship, lock keeper in a tall office waved us in, lifejackets please. The lock wall stood tall above us, a lasso rope for the cleat, lock keeper shouted use the lower white bars. A little confused, they would submerge. Gates behind us seemed miles away, they closed, no rush of water, and shorty later the front gates opened, we rose hardly a foot and there had been no wash in the lock. This was a big lock for just a foot!

Lights went green, rope away and we pulled out into the Petit Rhone, the wet lands and salt marshes of the Canal de Sete disappeared in a single turn, tall dense green tress rolled up the banks, red and green, port and starboard poles marked the channel, we had five meters of water under the boat. Running on one engine to keep our speed down to 5knts. After the lock we chose to swap from starboard motor to port. As we pulled out of the lock there was no steering. That was a surprise! Power steer pump clearly only works on the starboard engine, we are going upriver on the starboard engine then.

Petit Rhone was emerald green, from the canal it was more secretive, wide and hidden as it rolled around corners, we waited to see Cliveden pop out of the hillside, but there was the thing, no hillsides, and no view. The banks became more dense than ever with trees, flies replaced the mosquitoes, it was time to put the mesh screens in the open porthole windows.  We could have been in any river in the World that was hot! Yes it was very hot!

A signpost in the rode, boardmarkers for direction like a town A road sign. All port for the mighty Rhone.

Ship lock at Beucaire, proper big, we followed on a small blue ship in, he beamed the width of the lock like toothpaste in a tube.

Berth for the night at Vallabregues a few km beyond the lock. A few huge pillons with pontoons clinging to the edge, a small community of boats, folk out with urgency to take our ropes with friendliness.

16amp shore power, Mailasial wifi red box on, downloaded our emails as the evening mist set across the river.