Bassin Rond to Chauny
108 km
35 locks
2 tunnels
0 lift/swing bridges
26 hours
On leaving Bassin Rond, we were now off the
commercial canal and heading to Cambrai.
The Canal de St Quentin was in front of us with its 35 locks and two
tunnels. We noticed an immediate
difference in the canal, it was slow going, peaceful and now taking us through
lovely villages. It seemed we were the
only boat on the canal at this time.
At lunchtime, we moored up next to a huge
garden that had been turned into a veg patch with chickens running around at
one end. Madame was tending to the
garden and so I ran out and managed to buy six eggs (straight from the
chickens), arms full of lettuce and two large beetroot all for €2, what a
bargain.
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| Veggie patch where we bought eggs and salad |
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| An idyllic spot to have lunch |
After lunch, we encountered the first of
the many locks on this stretch and, as there was no l’eclusier in sight, Tracy
jumped off the boat and knocked on the door of the house opposite. Things were looking up, a man with a VNF (the
waterway’s authority) sweatshirt on answered but pointed at the empty cabin,
“you go speak there” he said. Confused
but determined, Tracy approached the cabin and noticed a sign on the wall which
said something about a remote control, pressing the intercom on the wall a voice
garbled something very quickly in French and then a remote control shot out of
a hole in the wall.
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| Lock operation doesn't get easier than this |
Triumphant and in total control, Tracy
began pressing buttons. Nothing was
happening, so noticing two poles at the lockside began pulling these for good
measure. Ten minutes later a VNF van
screeched up to the lock and an angry Frenchman jumped out waggling his finger
and saying “non, non, non”. Taking the
remote off her, he gave explicit instructions in French on how to operate the
locks, I could tell by her face that she didn’t have the slightest clue what he
was saying and I was glad that I was out of the way.
He stayed to supervise our lock operation
and was none too impressed at my handling skills, I tried to explain that I was
steering a 57ft boat from the back without the benefit of bow thrusters.
Finally, we were off and glad to see the
back of Mr Angry, but just as we approached the next lock he again turned up to
check on us. He stood with arms folded and his mouth pursed so much that his
face was in danger of imploding. He watched us like a hungry fat man at a
buffet.
The boat handled like a dream with him not
tugging on the stern end this time round, and as the lock gate opened for us to
leave he shouted in French “That was perfect, like that every time”. “Pillock”
we quietly retorted.
Cambrai was our next stop and we motored
into the port de pleasance. The moorings
appeared to be full but we managed to wedge ourselves between a barge and a
little plastic cruiser with our bow end sticking right out.
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| Port de pleasance at Cambrai |
Bizarrely, about 100ft of space had been
allocated to the local fishermen and there was a big ‘no mooring’ sign to
ensure this was upheld. But after coughing up €13.50 for the privilege of
mooring all skewwhiff, I decided the local fishermen would have to manage
around me for one day and maneuvered over to their side of the moorings.
Cambrai was a lovely city but spoiled by
the tons of litter strewn all over the streets and through the parks. On Sunday morning we made a trip out to the
supermarket for supplies and got caught up in a 10k race. We joined the on
lookers and shouted ‘allez, allez, allez’ at the runners, and dodged the sweets
that were being thrown by a giant teddy through the roof of the car leading
them. Sharpening our elbows, we gathered the sweets up with the frantic local
folk. Rather nice too, although Tracy’s
landed in a dog poo.
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| 10k race through Cambrai |
The tramps in the park were lying around in
high spirits wielding a bottle of Moet & Chandon. As we approached the cork
popped and they all cheered as the bottle of champers was passed around. You obviously get a better class of tramp in
France.
We girded our loins and were on our way, it
was a day of locks, locks and more locks.
The remote control worked like a dream, it was only a matter of pressing
the ‘montant’ button and then another when tied up in the lock to close the
gate, fill the lock and open the gates to exit. I put my feet up and relaxed,
this was going to be a doddle. Unfortunately, for Tracy it was not so
simple. There was nowhere for her to tie
to so this meant her climbing the slimy green ladders to get to the bollards at
the top of the locks. Slipping and
sliding her way up I feared the worst but her Crocs held out and got her up
there, but she did look like a slimy green toad at the end of the day.
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| Tracy negotiating the lock ladders in her Crocs |
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| Glad Tracy was climbing the slimy ladders and not me! |
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| Tracy securing the boat before lock operation |
At the penultimate lock before the tunnel, the intercom shouted at us in French to return the remote control. Begrudgingly, I yielded to the barking Frenchman and gave up my remote. I felt bereft, never
part a man from his remote control.
At the final lock before the tunnel we were
met by the l’eclusier who asked Tracy to go into the office to provide our
details and gave her an information sheet which she folded up and put into her
pocket and forgot about. He then gave instructions to moor up and stay
overnight. It would take three hours
from our mooring to get to the tunnel, and apparently three hours to get
through it.
The next day we did as the l’eclusier had
instructed and were all hitched and ready to go through Riqueval tunnel by
4.40pm, we were the only boat going through that day. Into the tunnel we went
like a spider on a single thread being dragged through a stretched glow worm. An
hour and a half later (not the three we were expecting), the echoing, clanking
chain from the mechanical beast receded. There was a €4 toll to pay but as I
went to hand over the money, I was told “you will be billed through the post”.
How on earth this was going to happen was beyond me, as my letter box moved off
along the canal.
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| All hitched up and ready to go |
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| No turning back now as the tug enters the tunnel |
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| Through the belly of the glow worm |
It was getting late as we approached
Tonquoy tunnel which was unmanned, there had been a red light about a kilometer
back but as there was no instruction to say what it was for and no staging to
tie to we had ploughed on. Although the tunnel was long you could see the other
end, and as no boats had passed us in any direction all day we took a deep
breath pushed the engine to warp speed (about 6 miles an hour) and entered the fluorescently
lit tunnel.
Now, for quite some time, a heron kept
being spooked by the approach of our boat choosing to fly before us each time.
To our dismay we frightened it right into the tunnel before us. Luckily there
was a walkway so it could rest from flight when tired, which became more
frequent towards the exit. To our joy with one last swoop it flew out and
soared into the air never to be seen again.
Not long after this, as night closed in, we
managed to find a place to tie up for the night at Lesdins village. The next morning
we wandered out into the morning air in search of croissants and more
importantly bread, which we had run out of. Tracy had threatened to bake a loaf
but as her last effort resembled the world’s largest naan, this was the nuclear
option.
We came across three ladies power walking
and accosted them with our best French, “Good morning, where is the bread shop,
please, thank you”. One lady pointed
over her shoulder but was shouted down by the leader of the pack. “Carrefour supermarket is down this road and
to the left” she said pointing. With
that, the three of them changed direction and power walked us up the road.
At the end of the road they waved us off
into the distance. We walked and walked
eventually coming across a postman wearing a MUFC shirt. Carrefour is 5km away
he said.
We gave up and walked back only to find a boulangerie
100ft away at the next lock as we were descending into it, committed we decided
to carry on. We imagined the three
ladies at their WI meeting later that day saying “we came across some
foreigners but we power walked them out of town”.
Onwards to Saint Quentin, the port de
pleasance there didn’t look very appealing and as there didn’t appear to be any
moorings anyway we topped up with water and set off again. From the tunnel, the locks were all taking us
downhill so my little mountain goat had the day off from ladder work and we
both enjoyed the scenery and agreed to continue to 8.30pm. Our plans were scuppered at 7pm by the
l’eclusier at Tergnier who had closed the lock for the night.
Tergnier proved to be a good resting place
as despite what a couple of the locals had said about the shops being 5km away,
a short walk up the towpath brought us right into the town centre with its two
supermarkets, launderette and yes even a smashing boulangerie.
After a hearty croissant breakfast we set
off again and after a short journey arrived at Chauny where we moored for free opposite
the port de pleasance.
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| Our mooring at Chauny |
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| The port de pleasance opposite our boat at Chauny |
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| View from the bridge of the moorings at Chauny |
Moorings in Cambrai
Cost: €13.50
Facilities: Water is free but is only
available at port entrance and controlled by the Havenmaster. Electricity available but we didn’t connect
so don’t know cost.
Location: City centre a 10 minute walk away
with supermarket, launderette and all the other usual shops and bars and
restaurants available.
Moorings in Vinchy
Cost: Free
Facilities: None.
Location: Very rural, we didn’t investigate
but nearby shops looked unlikely.
Moorings in Lesdins
Cost: Free
Facilities: None.
Location: Rural. Carrefour supermarket 5km
away and a boulangerie a 100ft from the lock.
Moorings in Chauny
Cost: Free, although there would be a
charge in the port de pleasance if this option was taken.
Facilities: None at our moorings although
the port de pleasance offered water, electricity, showers and laundrette.
Location: 5 minute walk into the centre of
Chauny, a very pleasant, affluent town with lots of very nice shops, bars and
restaurants.
History of the tunnels
The original design was to have one 13km
tunnel, but the work on this tunnel was started but never completed. Napoleon ordered the work finished and the
design was changed for two tunnels, Riqueval (5670m) and Tronquoy (1098m).
Napoleon officially opened the tunnels in 1810.
The plan was for Napoleon to ride through the tunnel on this horse. Unfortunately,
his horse was spooked by bumping into a ladder left by a workman and thinking
he was being assassinated, Napoleon galloped the length of the tunnel followed
by his soldiers all unceremoniously jostling each other to reach the end.
