Last Stop On the Med
We arrived in the EU two weeks ago on a Schengen visa, but in order to begin our French long-stay visa we needed to re-enter France. To do this we exited the Schengen Area by taking a quick jaunt to the UK. Thanks to a friend who is a pilot we were able to fly on discounted plane tickets. We made 2 roundtrips from the marina to the airport because we stupidly forgot our passports, arrived just in time to make our flight, and flew to London before lunch. We spent the day walking all over south London, procured a few random items we’d been looking for, ate 2 meals - one decent, and returned at the crack of dawn the next morning to check into France on our French visa.
La Grand Motte marina had informed us that they did not have available space for us to stay longer than a week. There appeared to be plenty of empty slips, but regardless, we were ready to move on. We walked to the office, paid our bill, filled our water tank and motored 3nm across the bay to Port Carmague. Here we could stay as long as we needed. Furthermore, we were side tied to a floating pier which meant it would be much easier for us to prep the boat for our canal cruise.
We had not made the decision to travel through France lightly. We began discussing the idea a year ago. We did extensive and repeated measuring of every aspect of Meraki - including below the waterline (keel, transducers, stabilizers, props). And we gathered specific data from PAE, the designers of Nordhavns.
We calculated Meraki’s precise height as well as how she sits in the water under various conditions; fully, partially and barely loaded with both fuel and water. We also took into account that she will float a bit lower in fresh water than in salt water. The canals are an average of 1.8 meters (6’) deep in their center (the sides occasionally get silted in) and our draft is approximately 1.5 meters (5’). Though we are likely to track through mud in some places, our water draft should not be a problem. Our height, or air draft, is another story. We had determined that by taking down most everything from the roof, we could, in fact, make an inland passage on specific routes through the continent. And thus the process began - just how do we do it?
Our mast with all it’s instruments: lightening protection, anchor/steaming lights, weather station, radar, Starlink, etc. measures 5.6 meters (18.4’). In order to fit under the numerous bridges on the route we had chosen, we would have to get the height of our boat under 3.5 meters (11.5’). This meant not only would we need to lower the mast, we would also need to disconnect it and rotate it to lay flat. We also needed to remove all the stainless rails around the sides of the roof and we would have to take the tender down as well - where the heck do we put it? It sounds insane, right? I know. And it just might be. Though there is one caveat - the first two canals have lifting or swing bridges, and the first river, the Rhone, is a huge commercial waterway. This will allow us to leave the dinghy on the roof for the first third of the transit. (we’ll stave off the question of where to stow it until it’s mission critical).
Much discussion and forethought went into just how to proceed but when the day came to begin dismantling the roof everything went surprisingly smoothly. We lowered the dinghy to the water and were then able to lower and remove the mast and secure it to the roof. We had to disconnect the radar and remove one of the stainless rails first, but we got there. It took a fair bit of trial and error but we worked it out. We then relocated the Starlink. The next step will be to figure out a way to rig up some sort of steaming light. This rooftop set-up will suffice for the first leg of our journey.
There are also one hundred and seventy eight locks to navigate along our route. From what we’ve read the walls of the locks are generally made of concrete and the newer larger ones are fitted with sliding, sometimes rusty, tracks with floating bollards. We wanted to insure that Meraki was well protected on both sides and the stern, particularly the aft corners and the swim platform. To protect these areas we needed three 4 meter (13’) planks. Tom contends he could have ridden his bike with them, albeit one at a time. The lumber yard is only 2.5km (1.6 miles) away, but I was not happy about the idea. Some sections of the route were along a two-lane divided highway. Call me a wimp - but I was not going to let that happen. The delivery cost was worth every penny!
We set to work protecting the stern and aft corners first. Tom had come up with an ingenious way of doing this. We removed the two stainless staples (railings) and fitted a plank to match the curve of the rear transom. We then drilled holes through it so that we could replace the staples. The plank provided a solid surface to which we could easily attach additional fenders.
And finally, we fashioned two fender boards to hang outside our inflated fenders, one for each side. These boards are meant to take the abuse of sliding up and down the lock walls. Time will tell how well they do their job. Fingers crossed.