The new wheelhouse

Andy set to work building a frame for the wheelhouse and within the hour had cut, sealed and covered it with a tarpaulin. And all done just in time. The rain started just as we prepared to leave the mooring. We lifted the cover on, set off, and the wheelhouse stayed dry. Fantastic!

Arrived in Berry-au-Bac and the junction of two canals, which our guidebook informs us is the hub of working barge life and host to numerous chandlers and fuel stops. We moored ahead of the lock and walked up to the basin expecting to see all of this. Sadly it has all gone. Commercial barges on these waterways are in decline. The moorings only fill up in the winter when the barges return and mark time until the next job comes along.

We walked to the lock at the start of the “Canal de la Aisne a la Marne” and watched a working boat as it locked through. It was a Belgian barge and I asked the owner some questions about the waterway. During our conversation he realised that we owned Lobelia. He had just passed it and had recognised it immediately. He had known it and its owners when it was a working vessel and had assisted in fitting the engine over 20 years ago. He even remembered which engine and was surprised to hear that it was still in use. Sadly, that observation might just back up Andy’s fears over the engine’s health. It is doing very well, but it does smoke quite a bit.

Small locks and low bridges

On Thursday we continued along the canalised River Aisne through dense riverside woodland which alternates with swathes of enormous corn fields where the farmers are busy harvesting. The waterway is getting narrower every day and now the locks seem to be shrinking too. Lobelia is 39m x 5.05m and the locks are now exactly the same size. Fenders cannot be used as there is no room for them. Andy has nerves of steel and is brilliant as he lines Lobelia up for the lock whilst lock officials and locals stare.

Thankfully the lock with the low bridge did not have any onlookers, though I did have the video camera running when the wheelhouse roof wedged under the bridge. Andy had to use a bit more throttle than he preferred in an effort to make the stern dip down into the water so that Lobelia’s wheelhouse could squeeze under the bridge. We took refuge in the lock and dismantled the wheelhouse.

On Friday evening we moored on a disused commercial quay which was partially covered and meant that we did not have to rebuild the wheelhouse. On the opposite bank was a massive silo and tractors trundled in and out continuously with trailers of freshly harvested grain. We watched them for hours and discussed designs for a temporary low level waterproof wheelhouse.

Tarnished Otter

In a previous post we claimed that we had seen wild otters. We have seen many more since, but it now transpires that we are actually seeing Ragondin. They are a South American mammal imported in the 1800s for their fur. One French website declared that the Ragondin has the libido of a rabbit. Hence our numerous sightings! It looks like a cross between an otter and a beaver. Mainland Europeans hate them, though the Belgians find them rather tasty.

Market Day

The boys’ French language skills were put to the test today with a visit to the market and a challenge to say hello, ask for various fruits, pay for them and say thank you and goodbye. They did brilliantly and charmed the stall holder so much that he rewarded them with the tastiest and juciest of white nectarines. Well done boys!

The Vase of Soissons

Two locks and 18km and we arrived in Soissons. It is a large town with one old story that seems to run and run. The great 5^th century warrior Clovis (thought of your ted – Hana B!) got a little bit upset with one of his soldiers who had carelessly smashed a sacred vase. Clovis might have needed anger management. His unfortunate soldier needed superglue (and not just for the vase) - Clovis sliced him in half!!!

Anyway, Soissons is devoted to the vase and it appears in the form of topiary, flower arrangements on roundabouts, bar and restaurant names, postcards, etc. 

Luckily we did not break any of these items during our visit.

Pierrefonds Castle

We retrieved the car from Cambrai and reunited our fleet of vehicles at Vic-sur-Aisne. Although we have all been enjoying 20km cycle trips along the towpath, the hills around the River Aisne are just becoming too big for a family cycling trip. So, today we decided to use the car to visit the enchanting castle at Pierrefonds – currently used as the location for the BBC drama “Merlin”.

The foundations of the castle date back to 1393. However it was destroyed in 1616 and left in a romantic pile of ruins until Napoleon bought it in 1810. It was a good year – he bought a castle and opened a tunnel!

But it was not until 1857 when Napoleon III commissioned an architect to restore the castle to its former glory that the castle regained its grandeur. He was an architect with a passion for the Middle Ages and the Renaissance periods and he combined these loves in his designs.

The masonry is detailed and exquisite and full of fun. The castle itself is completely empty and tourists can wander at ease through the vast halls. We were all intrigued by the Renaissance style double spiral staircases. They run alongside one another but never meet. I imagined scenes of secret trysts; the boys made up stories of wild chases and sword fights.

Dan and Cal carried their Warwick Castle swords and shields with them on the tour of the castle and staged some fierce clashes, much to the amusement of other tourists.

Who is teaching who?

Both boys astound us with the depth of their knowledge in their specialist fields. Dan is masterful in his lectures on Greek mythology and taught us a great deal when we wandered through the gardens at Napoleon’s chateau in Compeigne. And Callum is our flag guru. Seamus beware! Callum is eager to go head-to-head with you in a flag mastermind competition. 

Food Miles

Enjoyed a beautiful trip along the river from Choisy au Bac, snaking our way through ancient forests.

Lock-keepers welcome us with a smile and they walk along their lock inspecting our decks and our garden. Comments are always made about the potatoes and carrots and the abundant tomatoes and red peppers. Eyebrows are raised at the gooseberries, blackcurrants and blueberries – they would be raised even higher if they actually tasted some of them as they are quite tart!  We are now enjoying a good harvest but this has raised the question of food miles. Is our produce rated at zero food miles or is it notching up a ludicrous mileage now that it has travelled so far and through three countries?

We are now moored up for a few days in the village of Vic-sur-Aisne which feels like it would belong in the Cotswolds. We have a large grassy area alongside and the boys have been playing freely. Football, tennis and archery. Their football skills are improving rapidly and there have been several tense matches with plenty of souvenir bruises.

Otters in the wild

Moored on the River Aisne in beautiful surroundings and in stunning weather. How could it get any better? Easy. Sit on deck and watch otters in the wild as they swim past the boat on regular riverbank patrols. All four of us enjoyed this privilege and it was golden.

Brief Update

Now in Compeigne on the River Aisne. Still struggling to find wi-fi and internet cafes which cope with Apple applications on our memory stick. Anyway, all is well. Sun shining daily and life is good.Will endeavour to update properly soon.
Hope everyone enjoys their summer break from school.

Armistice Clearing

We didn’t plan to go very far today, but chose to motor a few km around the bend to Choisy au Bac where we could base ourselves for a few days in order to explore the sights of Compeigne and the forests which surround it.

In the afternoon we cycled to the site where the 1918 and 1940 Armistices were signed in a train carriage in the forest glade.

There is a museum there now, hidden away amongst the trees. A replica of the train carriage stands in the centre of the museum, surrounded by stereoscopic viewers which show haunting images from the battlefields.

But the first thing you see as you arrive at the site is a strikingly symbolic statue which made Hitler’s blood boil. It is a monument funded by public subscription and shows the German eagle impaled on a sword.

Walk on a little further and the trees melt away to reveal a vast clearing with two train tracks running through it. These tracks are separated by a giant granite stone and an engraving which translates as, “Here on the 11^th of November perished the criminal pride of the German Empire defeated by the free people whom it set out to enslave.” The French, unlike the British, do not hold back when they remember the wars. Everywhere we go we see memorial plaques to fallen soldiers and civilians, which give details of exactly what happened and who was to blame.

Lobelia’s leisurely pace means that we have meandered through the battlegrounds and visited countless villages and towns which were the unfortunate buffer zone around Paris. I have visited this area before and known the history. However, previous visits have been made by car and distances and the sense of lost communities have not been fully appreciated until now. A number of villages were never rebuilt after the war but their names stay on maps today in a gesture of remembrance.

Lemmings dive into the canal

We chose to stay in Longueil-Annel for the day and crack on with some jobs on the boat. In intense heat we sanded and re-varnished the kitchen windows, scrubbed the decks and greased some bits down in the engine room!

The canal was busy all day with commercial traffic but ground to a halt by 7pm, as did the village. Not a sound, not a movement anywhere.

Andy inflated a dinghy for the boys and set them adrift in the canal whilst he swam around them in an effort to cool off. One by one, like lemmings, we all joined him in the water for a swim. The village watched in silence as the Bailey family cavorted noisily in the canal.

Longueil-Annel Canal Museum

We actually did not need to dismantle the wheelhouse today but chose to do so anyway. We have got quite used to open air driving and in this fantastic weather it seems wrong to be tucked away inside.

Not many locks on this stretch of waterway – but they are bigger. Lobelia looked a little lost in the 125m x 12m lock at Bellerive.

Moored up in Longueil-Annel which is a village dedicated to life on the canal. The towpath is lined with quaint houses which are adorned with barge paraphernalia and seem to house the retired barge captains of the canal’s golden years. Their houses, like the barges they once drove, are kept clean, tidy and polished to perfection. Better still, the barge fuel stop is a bar. The lock used to be the post office. And now there is a museum and show-barge dedicated to the history and working life of the barges and their owners. Plenty of interesting short films and reminiscences of life onboard. The boys particularly enjoyed the photo of “Grannie” around 1900, in an oppressively heavy-looking dress and in a hat and a harness, pulling the laden barge along the length of the canal. The museum was excellent, though we were sorry to have just missed the annual barge festival with its boat jousting contests and fireworks

Fun in the sun

Farewell St Quentin canal. By midday we had travelled along the last part of the canal and joined the rather beautiful wide waterway of the Canal Lateral a L’Oise : bright blue skies overhead and regiments of tall poplars along its length. Stopped for a long lunch with a refreshing bottle of white wine - now that’s what I call boating!

Moored overnight near the pleasant barging community of Sempigny. Barges and houses crowded the riverside in a harmonious huddle of sleepiness. Waited for nightfall and the wonderful lack of light pollution and then relaxed in the hot tub under a sky filled with stars.

Crew at work

Another incredibly hot sunny day. Wheelhouse down and eight more St Quentin canal locks to tick off the list. The locks are all automated and sensors upstream of the lock activate it in time for our arrival. Once in the lock we can set it in motion by pushing up a green lever. The boys enjoyed taking on this job today.

They are also getting quite good at limbo dancing under low bridges

and learning the ropes.

Moored up in a secluded spot after 22km, rebuilt the wheelhouse and collapsed with heat exhaustion. But then from nowhere a man from the canal authority (VNF) appeared, knocked on the door and asked us to move as we had chosen to moor too close to an overnight bridge demolition. This meant dismantling the wheelhouse again, moving a few hundred metres, locking through, mooring up and rebuilding the wheelhouse. Not something we really felt like doing!

Did it anyway – and in record time

Football Fever

Time to leave the fabulous playground beaches of St Quentin. We set off down  the Saint Quentin canal and after 16km and a few locks we decided to moor up and challenge the boys to a game of football.

Our pitch was next to the cemetery in a very sleepy village called Pont-de-Tugny. Kick-off at 6pm and parents did well in the first half – leading the boys 5-3. However, following a half-time contemplative walk in the churchyard, Mum lost concentration - her foul tally increased and conversely the prospect of grandchildren diminished.

The boys claimed victory at 10-9 and the numerous village dogs barked in unison with the boys’ howls of delight (or was it pain?). Pont-de-Tugny had never seen anything like it before and the lace curtains twitched nervously.

Bastille Day - a national holiday for lunatiques

The French party all day and we were lucky enough to join them. Watched an air show from the comfort of Lobelia’s deck. Visited the park where French military and air force hardware was on show. Lounged on the town square beach whilst the boys had fun on various obstacles both wet and dry. 

The beach seems rather incongruous next to the 16th century gothic town hall with its 37 bell carillion. And nearby it the 9th century basilica which is still undergoing repairs for the damage it received in World War 1.

Late in the evening we followed a samba beat band as they processed through the town to a rendez-vous with several other bands and troupes of majorettes. Around us children and adults alike were gleefully setting off fire-crackers and fireworks. The noise was incredible and the danger level rising.

Retreated to the canalside with the rest of France to watch the fireworks display at 11pm. Once again fire crackers and fireworks exploded all around and only stopped thanks to the fireworks display itself. 

Fun on the beach

Moved the boat to a new mooring in Saint Quentin. Had lunch and then cycled a short distance to the “out-of-town” beach. This beach is lakeside and the boys had a fabulous time hurling themselves into the water for hours and hours. Plenty of free entertainment : art and crafts, beach ping-pong, volleyball etc.

English or Dutch?

Not sure about our French accents. On several occasions we have spoken in French and people have responded in Dutch or given us Dutch information sheets. This has naturally lead to even greater confusion. But then I mistook at Dutch gentleman at the Tunnel for an American.

Un, deux, trois nous irons au bois...

Happy 50^th Birthday to Gary!

Today, in your honour, we rested and toasted you with a lunchtime bottle of rose in the beautiful old Saint Quentin square which has surreally been transformed into a giant beach. Loudspeakers around the town play seaside sound effects and the world walks by in bikinis.

On our return cycle from Saint Quentin we found some fantastic cherry trees on the towpath.  Andy hoisted the boys into the overhead branches and they gathered a panama hat of deep red juicy fruits which would have been a mortgage job in Sainsburys. The boys have really enjoyed learning a french song about picking cherries - not!!!

Cycling en famille

1. Strict formation rules at all times.

Dad at the front with repair kit for bikes, boys in the middle, Mum at the back with repair kit for boys.

2. The boys (keen fans of the Ice Age movies) like to point out that “he who has gas travels at the back of the pack”. (Charming!)

3. Formula 1 driver responses required by both adults to avoid collisions with smaller members of the pack who stop for frequent nose rubs.

4. Adults should carry encyclopaedias at all times.

5. Lycra must not be worn at any time.

6. A running buffet must always be available.

7. You are always nearly there. Unless…

8. Schoolwork can be done whilst you are riding and no, we are not nearly there, so there is plenty of time to learn something

Tunnel Terror

Six more locks and some very low bridges later and at 2pm we arrived at the “touer station”. Cabling hung precariously overhead. We were the largest vessel there so were put at the head of the queue. We were given strict instructions to standby with two 30m towing ropes which would be used in a crossed formation. Behind us were four launches of varying size. Whilst we waited the other boats linked together with towing ropes. We were waiting in a deep cutting and there was no breeze, no noise and no respite from the heat.

Just after 4:15 we heard the chains clanking. The touer juddered into view and the two man crew shouted commands which meant very little and did not match the orders given to us on the translated information sheet. We did not use our ropes. We took one rope from the touer and hooked it onto our starboard bow. The crew did not check the other boats but asked us if everyone was ready. Our shrug was considered to be good enough and we all set off on a crazy zig-zag route to the tunnel.

 We entered the tunnel and Lobelia squeezed into the space with her portside scraping along the towpath and a mere 2 feet available on her starboard. With the wheelhouse down Lobelia’s air draught is about 3.2m. Air draught in the tunnel is 3.5m. So it was a snug fit!

For the next two hours the touer pulled us through the tunnel. Wheelhouse still down, we dodged and ducked the occasionally low slung electrical cables and marvelled at the work which had gone into building these tunnels 200 years ago. The stone bore the scars of prisoners’ picks. The wartime shafts gave us glimpses of daylight far above. The chain clanked and echoed. The electrical connectors sparked electric blue. The boys retreated to safety inside and watched a movie.

We emerged from the cool dark of the tunnel and gazed up at the bankside where the photograph of those British soldiers had posed in 1917. The touer reclaimed its rope from us and Andy restarted the engines. We felt a little apologetic about Lobelia’s trademark diesel fumes which clouded around everyone behind us, but we were all under strict instructions to maintain a 4km/hour speed limit and overtaking was not allowed.

Forty minutes later and the second tunnel came into view. This time, however, there would be no towing and Andy would have to drive Lobelia through under her own power. It was a hell of a squeeze and Andy, despite initial shock, was brilliant.  Fifteen minutes later we emerged safely and continued to rural Lesdins where we moored up for the night.

A day of locks on the Saint Quentin Canal

Time to leave Cambrai. We dismantled the wheelhouse and waved goodbye to our abandoned car. The sun shone and the canal narrowed. Locks came thick and fast. Luckily the canal was quiet and we only met one loaded commercial barge. Andy surrendered the deeper part of the canal to it, which was fine until we struck a piece of collapsed concrete bank. Luckily Lobelia is a strong lass!

Stopped at 1pm after eight locks and sought refuge in a shady mooring and a cool hot tub – much to the amazement of passing commercial vessels.

Set off again at 3pm and notched up another five locks before mooring up at 6pm at a quiet rural spot where we think I celebrated my 30^th birthday during one of the barge handling courses we attended.

The Canal St Quentin Museum

We had planned to leave Cambrai today but became side-tracked. On a brief outing in the car we managed to spend a small fortune in an amazing supermarket and visit a museum dedicated to the Canal St Quentin which we were about to explore with Lobelia.

(Warning : history lesson now follows. Skip to Friday if you don’t fancy it.)

The canal, which runs 92km from Cambrai to Chauny and combines the Escaut and Somme rivers, is celebrating its 200^th anniversary this year.  And it has been an extremely eventful 200 years. The canal’s crown is the Riqueval tunnel which was commissioned by Napoleon. Two  tunnels were built by 3000 war prisoners over a period of eight years. The first is 5.7km long and the second is 1.1km. In 1810 Napoleon cut the ribbon and, accompanied by a retinue of guards he ceremoniously rode through the tunnels on horseback. Unfortunately Napoleon’s horse rode into a ladder and Napoleon, who thought he was in danger of being assassinated, charged through the rest of the tunnels with his retinue in hot pursuit. That was probably the last thing to ever go through the tunnels at speed.

When the tunnel was ready to receive its first barge, all the local boatmen were fearful to enter it until it had been proven to be safe. A decision was made to give freedom from tolls in perpetuity to the first vessel through the tunnels. The race to be the first boat must have been spectacular! Apparently the winning boat, built of timber, is said to have remained in service well in excess of a century and the hull replaced several times during its extraordinarily long working life. For fellow fans of Only Fools and Horses this sounds remarkably like a case of Trigger’s broom!

Fume build-up in the tunnels meant that boats were not allowed to go through the tunnels under their own power. They had to be towed. At the beginning, gangs of 8 men would haul through barges by hand on a journey that took more than 12 hours. In 1863 they were replaced by a carousel of horses whose circular movement drove gears connected to a submerged chain. And then the “touer” took over. And it is still in use today. A bizarre looking electric tug which connects to electric wires overhead and pulls itself and its customers along by the submerged chain. The procedure was slow, dark and noisy. The record for number of boats pulled said to be 74. Up until the mid 1960s the canal was the main commercial route and hundreds of barges like ours used the canal every day. Today it is mostly used by tourists.

During World War 1 both tunnels were used by the Germans as defences in the Hindenburg Line. Shafts were dug to connect the tunnels with other fortifications. The tunnels, which were impregnable fortifications, were fitted with electric lighting for the first time and were used as stabling, hospitals and command centres. When British troops finally broke the line they posed for a remarkable photograph at the entrance to the tunnel at Riqueval. (sorry but have struggled to upload the photo. You can see it online via Imperial War Museum archive)

Tour de France Fever

Tour de France day. Cambrai was buzzing with excitement; gendarmerie stood on every corner and some even smiled; people in every lycra garment you could ever imagine wearing on a bicycle converged on the main square.  We kept up the entente cordiale by smiling but drew the line at the lycra.

Baking hot sun and a high of anticipation. The carillion chimed one of its merry tunes and then the circus arrived. The Tour de France is not just about cycling anymore. It is a massive high speed mobile show of camp euro-trash of the best order. Crazy vehicles in the shape of beer glasses, beds, mountains and wild animals whizzed past. Onboard dancers boogied in even crazier outfits which were accessorized by 5 point harnesses in a Health & Safety coup de grace. Music blared and DJs urged us to dance to the beat of whatever product they happened to be advertising. This went on for about fourty minutes and then the madness vanished into thin air. Gone.

We waited. Finally the coaches arrived and the square filled with news crews, officials, more lycra and the bikes. Cyclists emerged from the coaches, scarred from intense racing and high speed crashes on the cruel cobblestone stage from the previous day. Today was Day 3 of the Tour and a gentle stage – just a 153km race to Reims on gentle tarmac in 35 degrees. Dan and Callum pushed their way to the front of the barriers and waved autograph books. They were rewarded with several from cyclists and Callum even got one from another spectator who claimed to be an ex-Rugby League player from York!

Sensing that the race would begin soon, we fought our way through the crowds and walked a short way along the race route. The swarm of cyclists (the peloton) surrounded by motorbikes and cars, shot past. That was it. Over. We walked back to the boat, turned on ITV4 and watched the rest of the stage on TV.

Cambrai returned to normal.

Wi-fi desert

It's tough keeping your followers happy. France seems to be a wi-fi desert and it has taken a long time to find our wi-fi oasis. It is in Cambrai in the main square. It's a bar. They serve cold beer and it would be rude to tap into their free wi-fi without buying some of their wares. Anyway, it gets even tougher. The sun is shining. The Tour de France is about to land in some style. We are watching it on a big screen and, at the same time we are watching the welcome committee set up in the main square.
Anyway, thanks to lots of cold Stella and Leffe there is now a lot more on the blog and, if you are brave enough, then go back as far as the entry about "shopping in Belgium". Hope you enjoy it. Apologies for not replying to any of your recent emails. Belated happy birthday to Dom Fysh, Suz, Denz, Robin, Alex, Carly, Steve, Katie and......a big happy 50th birthday to Gary.
Much love to everyone (the beer is taking effect) and we hope to update again soon.

A New Book

Yesterday Andy bought a very useful book about the French waterways. It has maps. At last! Inside we found a river/canal classification guide :
A : no difficulties / no strong currents / no commercial traffic.
B : no major difficulty but more commercial traffic and some occasional tricky passages.
C : difficult waterway / strong current / heavy traffic / other dangers. To be tackled with extreme caution by the inexperienced.

We cross-checked this guide with the waterways that we have already travelled. We haven't done any A. Two Bs and, of course, three grade Cs. And that's where we are now!

The route so far and the route to follow...

Did you know?

This is something for Alex and Scott Franklin. As you know, because I have told you several times and you never ever believed me, Scotland does not get a summer. So - every June Scotland is disconnected from the rest of the UK and towed south for a month – just so they can have some sunshine.

It just so happens that I was lucky enough to see Scotland on its return tow and I have attached a photo just for you!

Caution : This canal is for experienced skippers only!

Two commercial barges, low in the water, passed us on our mooring and headed into the lock. Lobelia listed alarmingly to port. Andy sprinted through the boat and checked water tightness, turning off interlocking tanks in an effort to prevent tanks draining to the portside where they would increase the problem. Like some witch’s potion the canal bubbled around us. But Lobelia was watertight. We waited. Puzzled. We reckoned that we had been pushed aground and that the passing barges had sucked the water from beneath us. It was time to go.

Pulled away from the mooring and hovered by the lock in light rain. Nothing happened. Called the lock on VHF (though we doubted our pronunciation of “Iwuy”). Nothing happened. Returned to the mooring and Shiv got off ready to do battle with the intercom at the lock office. Surprisingly it all went rather well and a very nice man in an office in a land that was far far away spoke understandable French and pressed a useful button which meant that the lock started working. Better still, he pressed another button which produced a zapper for us to keep. We could now operate lock openings on our own without aid of poor linguistic skills on the VHF!

Andy edged Lobelia into her first made to measure lock. The lock entrance bore the scars of years of abuse from 39m barges which had been a cm off course. The lock walls lined with deep diagonal channels from ropes valiantly clinging onto their barges as they surge dangerously forward in the rushing waters. All went well and we were in the lock when a lock keeper arrived in his white van. 

The twelve tasks of Heracles were not yet complete. The final task : present your papers in the lock office. This was also successful. But then another commercial barge arrived in the adjacent lock and a toothless Titania pointed her gnarly finger at our rebuilt wheelhouse and let loose a torrent of French and hand gestures which needed no translation. We were too high. The next obstacle was perilously close.

We pulled over and the rain came down harder. We waited. The interior woodwork would suffer with the wheelhouse down and open to the elements. We prepped tarpaulins and umbrellas and reluctantly began to dismantle the wheelhouse. Luck was on our side and the storm passed.

Set off for Cambrai via two more locks and plenty of low bridges.

Fortunately there were no witnesses (or could that barge lurking in that disused canal cutting be called Desolation?) to the events that took place at Thun l’Eveque, though if you look closely at the upstream lock gates you will see two telltale imprints and some of our anchor paint. The remainder of the trip was uneventful and we are now moored in a peaceful spot in Cambrai, awaiting the arrival of the circus they call the Tour de France.

Wheelhouse Removals R Us

The time had come. Low bridges were forecast and the wheelhouse would not win in a contest with any of them. Andy and I set about dismantling it. 

It did not take too long and we set off along the Canal de la Sensee in 34 degrees heat. After 15km of pleasant green and wide waters we turned onto the Escaut (or had we reached the River Styx?) and accepted a challenge of mythical proportions. Trees bowed down to touch us with their branches whilst their roots stole the width of the waterway so that the water dodged and weaved to get away from them. Lobelia slowed and the fun began! The first bridge was lower than we had expected and Lobelia was not interested in stopping that quickly  :

Shiv sprinted to the bow to lower the already lowered mast to a new low then sprinted to the stern to hurl the Ensign and pole to the deck. At the same time, Andy wrestled with a parasol in the wheelhouse, the weighty blue board signal on our starboard and the controls. We cowered. We waited. Callum jumped up and down on deck and gleefully touched the bridge. We made it through! We wondered if perhaps we had taken a wrong turn. This was meant to be a commercial waterway and we dreaded the thought of meeting anything. There just did not seem to be any room.

Thankfully we reached the first lock without incident and moored up for the night. A storm was brewing so we rebuilt the wheelhouse.