Life aboard
If one disregards the normal discomforts that come with living on a small sailboat - restricted space, infrequent showers, bumps and bruises - one discovers once again that the lifestyle is a healthy and interesting one. Especially when moving, as we were, from village to village, up and down locks (some quite challenging), in company with fearsome "bumper boats". Each day brings new vistas and new experiences. We were fortunate in that we were put-putting through some of the most delightful countryside of Southern France. The sun shone every day; it was hot but not oppressiveley so, and just the breeze created by our 4 knots of progress helped cool us off - although we dearly would have enjoyed a refreshing dip, but not in these canals! Georgian Bay this is not! An Ontario 32 sailboat is ideally designed for 2-person cruising. Fitting in 4, even good friends, is a challenge. As Judy commented: "on board, we pretend we don't notice anything!". Aubrey mentioned in one email that Annie and I found the "double" berth (created by pulling out a sliding panel from a side berth, and padding it with various cushions), to be barely adequate. We solved the problem of one or the other of us falling off the berth, by sleeping head-to-toe! This was henceforth referred to as "sardine style". One now had sympathy for the slaves packed into the black ships of old! This being France, the four of us were determined to enjoy the fruits of the countryside, from local wines and cheeses to shellfish and the ever-present baguette. To say that we dined luxuriously every day of the trip, is to under emphasize - the food was magnificent and both Aubrey and Judy are excellent cooks, as is Annie. We did our share, of course, although my cooking is best left untasted; instead we occasionally provided a visit to a local restaurant where, in most cases, the food was good and relatively inexpensive. Each day started with one or another hopping off the boat to make an early trip to the nearest boulangerie for baguettes, cheese and milk. Meanwhile, coffee was brewing and the drowsy crew made ready to face another "working" day through the locks.
Working the locks soon came to be fairly routine. I was the designated line handler ashore, and this required me to get off the boat at some point before the lock. If we were lucky, there would be a landing or waiting stage where we could come alongside. Most often, this meant "nosing" in with the bow so that we wouldn't ground in the shallower water. We had to do this very carefully and slowly in order that "grounding" would not find us stuck in the mud. Aubrey explains elsewhere how such groundings were overcome. I would then climb the stairs to the lock rim where I would wait for the bow line to be passed up. Often, the lock walls were quite high and the line might not make it up on the first (or even several) attempts. This is when things became a little dicey, since the lock would already be inhabited by a couple of bumper boats who may or may not be lined up properly or even secured to the bollards. These boats were crewed by inexperienced holidaymakers who cheerfully admitted their nautical ignorance, but mostly didn't seem to appreciate the relative fragility of a sailboat with its mast down and overhanging fore and aft. After finally receiving the bow line and running it around the nearest bollard and back down to the foredeck (remember, these locks are designed for huge commerical peniches, so the bollards aren't spaced for recreational vessels), I would hustle to receive the stern line and pass that back to the cockpit after looping it around another bollard. Once or twice, in the deepest locks, this wasn't possilble and I handled lines from the rim while the rest of the crew fended off. The inflow of water is dramatic; these locks are now all electrified and the eclusier simply pushed a button. I must assume there are only two positions - open and closed, as all lock gates seemed to offer the same mightly inrush of water. At the first lock, we make the mistake of entering first and so received the full blast. After that, we gratefully waved the bumper boats in ahead, then snuck in under their counters so that the pressure was reduced No doubt Aubrey will be writing about the "stair" locks that we met further along the canal. We came up against double and triple locks, and, most dramatically, a 7-step version! That was a workout, but we'll get to that later in the cruise. Tony Cook.
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