Conquering the Canal du Centre
With four of us now aboard, we slipped the lines in Chalon-sur-Saône and within minutes were at the end of our river Saône excursion, turning left onto the Canal du Centre.
The Canal du Centre runs for 112 kilometers (73 miles), from the Loire River (Digoin) to the Saône River (Chalon-sur-Saône). There are 61 locks: 35 on the Saône-Mediterranean side and 26 on the Loire-Ocean side. It was first suggested during the 16th century but work did not begin until 1783. The route was selected such that it would join the valleys of the Loire and Saône and provide adequate water supplies at the summit. The canal opened for navigation in 1792 and was the first watershed canal allowing boats to pass from the north of France to the south. Not long after its completion many new villages had been built along its banks, breathing new life into the area.
Because of the very low bridges and the numerous, tiny, self-operated locks, this was the segment of the trip we were most concerned about - and also why we’d tried to reach Chalon-sur-Saône when we did. We wanted knowledgeable deckhands (Riley & Sophie) aboard at the beginning of this leg to help familiarize ourselves with these locks and to practice managing this canal alone. We passed through the first “larger” manned lock as we left the Saône River and turned onto the Canal du Centre. It felt barely wider than our boat in places with houses so close to the waters edge you feel as though you are traveling through people’s backyards.
The canal meanders through lush landscapes where a sea of rolling hills blends with vast pastureland edged by compact ancient villages. The region is known for its local goat cheese and the Charolais beef. Originally from Burgundy this breed of cow is highly appreciated for its quality meat, which is finely marbled, tender and flavorful. (Guess what I’m having for dinner?)
Locking in this canal requires manually pulling a rope to initiate its operation. There is a red and a blue line recessed into the chamber wall. A pull on the blue rope starts the gates closing and the sluice to then open or close depending on whether you’re going up or down. (The red cord is used only in an emergency.) The ropes were often at the forward end, or upstream side, of the chamber. We would slide into the narrow lock and motor up to the ropes reaching out with a boat hook to pull on the blue cord. Then we would reverse back to a bollard and tie up before the water started to move. We tried several techniques of securing ourselves: using two separate lines (mid-ships and aft) to the same bollard, a single mid-ship line on either side (which only works when the bollards line up on port and starboard), and just a single line on one side from the mid-ships cleat. We experimented with looping each line back onto itself and alternatively managing both lines from a single location.
Over the course of six hours we operated 12 locks and passed under too many bridges to count - though not yet any of the lowest published ones. We tied up for the night just 19 kilometers (12 miles) upstream in the town of Chagny. This town marks the border between the Côte de Beaune wine growing region to the north and Côte de Chalonnaise region to the south. In addition to it’s good wines it is known for its many great restaurants, including the famous Lameloise (3-star Michelin guide) known as one of the best in all of France. We checked out the village square and the grocery store before heading to a smaller, quieter restaurant for dinner. The Côte Chalonnaise produces both reds (Pinot Noir) and whites (Chardonnay) while Chagny is the center for producing Crémant de Bourgogne - a sparkling wine made with Pinot Noir and Aligoté grapes. I have never been terribly fond of bubbly but this one was delicate and subtle and quite delicious!
As restaurants don’t open until 7-7:30pm here, by the time our fabulous meal was complete we were exhausted. The cool night air on the short walk back to the boat felt divine. We’d no sooner returned home when a man approached from the only other boat in the harbor. It turns out he and his wife are from Michigan (we haven’t run across many Americans). He stopped by to find out what time we would be setting out in the morning as they were headed upstream as well. In this narrow waterway coordinating with other boaters is quite helpful.
The next day was bright and unseasonably warm. We gave Ernie and Ruth from Saginaw a one hour head start and then eased out into the tranquil moving water. Within 15 minutes we passed under the first of the lowest published bridges (3.40m) and were pleased to discover that the water level in this area was at or below average - meaning we have extra headroom! Tom and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Our transit was not entirely without mishaps, however. At one lock our fender board got caught up in the steel ladder on the inside of a lock and the line was ripped out of its cleat and off the rail - using the boathook we managed to retrieve the board and tie it back on. Another time we scraped the fender board along the edge of a bridge abutment while passing beneath and startled a pair of nesting ducks. They got pinned briefly between us and the wall and scared the crap out of me as I tried persistently to free them! I was so relieved when they finally flew away.
Throughout the day we further refined our locking technique. We realized that given our wide hull, there was really not much concern of Meraki moving side to side inside these locks. There was only about 20 centimeters (8 inches) on each side between our fender boards and the wall. Our mooring line then was used simply to keep us from moving too far forward or backward inside the chamber. We were now less anxious entering each lock and the procedure became much smoother. The trickiest part now, apart from threading the needle just to get inside, was reaching the blue cord and pulling it with the boathook. Some of the cords were stiff and difficult to pull while even the more supple ones did not always begin closing the gates right away. We tested pulling down and letting go of the line quickly, then we tried holding the cord down for a few seconds before releasing it, we also experimented with pulling on the cord repeatedly. There seemed to be no definitive best practice - other than perseverance, and we actually broke a boathook somewhere along the way trying to get the gates to close. At one point we approached a lock that had no lights indicating we could enter. Riley jumped ashore to call from the gatehouse but unfortunately it was unclear how to operate the call station. I ended up finding a telephone number and called to have the lock reset.
Having only completed six locks that day, we arrived at a nature halte for the night. There are no pontoons or services at a nature halte, but rather a stretch of grass or sheet pile along the bank where boaters are permitted to overnight. Occasionally there are bollards or rings, other times you simply drive a stake into the ground to tie onto. Here in Saint-Berain-sur-Dheune we found a lovely, grassy, park setting complete with bollards and picnic tables. We secured ourselves, made lunch and took turns on the bikes - riding into the sleepy little nearby village. We hung the canopy over the foredeck, relaxing in the shade until sundown when we enjoyed some wine and cheese and cooked a simple meal. I so love to be alone out in open country.
We left the halte on a misty morning heading for the town on Montchanin. Famous for its colorful terracotta roof tiles and for its coal mines (active between 1820 and 1912), from the guide book it looked like a pleasant stop for the night. There was also a high speed train there which the kids could catch back to Paris in a couple of days.
This next set of locks were attended by a lock keeper who prepared the lock for upstream travel and then simply observed in case we needed any assistance. Always friendly, they would inquire where we were headed and then drive ahead to prepare the next lock. There was a long stretch along this section where the canal climbed so quickly we entered a lock every 10-15 minutes - forget about sitting down, there was another lock around every bend! We also discovered the water level through there was quite low (-0.2m) and we went aground three or four times, dragging our keel through the mud. We had completed sixteen locks by the time we arrived in Montchanin at 3pm that day. We thanked our lock keeper and tied up, aground in the mud, in the only permitted overnight parking spot in town, which happened to be next to a lone, large office building quite a long way from town. We made lunch and relaxed for a few minutes, but none of us were very content. We all felt this stop left much to be desired and after our lovely evening in the nature halte the night before, we decided we would prefer to carry on.
Birdseye view of locking-up
The next available place to overnight was in the town of Montceau-les-Mines, 13 km and nine locks away. It would only be a 20 minute taxi ride back to this train station for the kids, so I called the marina to confirm there was space for us. Next I called the VNF (the French waterways administration) to inform them of our decision. As we approached the first of the next series of locks we realized we would now begin locking-down, we had reached the summit! Meraki was now at 301 meters above sea level (988 feet)!
Two lock keepers met us and tried to dissuade us from moving on. It was too far they thought, reminding us that the locks would all close for the night at 6:30pm. They did not think we would have enough time to reach our destination. Believing we were so efficient now (at least at locking-up) we assured them that we could do it and we carried on
Much to our delight, locking-down is infinitely easier. Again the locks are operated by a blue rope, only here they are suspended from what looks like a lamppost. We would glide into the chamber far enough forward to pull the rope, and then simply toss our lines down around the bollards which were now beneath the level of the boat deck. We got quite proficient at it and arrived in Montceau-les-Mines with 45 minutes to spare. We had transited 26 locks in one day - a new record.
We tied up in a large marina in the lovely town of Montceau-les-Mines just after 5pm and immediately went to the office. I was told the Port Captain was not there but we could catch up with her tomorrow. We were so thankful we had pushed on. We were right in the heart of this lovely, little town, just steps away from shops, cafes and restaurants.
The next day we went to the port office to square up and learned the captain would not be in that day we should check back tomorrow. I love the relaxed schedule here in France - work from 10-noon, close for a leisurely 2 hour lunch, and work until 6pm. Oh yes, and Wednesdays are often half days. Such a great work-life balance! We went to the boulangerie (bakery) for breakfast, followed by a little window shopping and a stop at the artisanal grocery store to assess more of the unique foods we’d not seen before. It was our last day together so some packing and organizing took place, after which we went out for pizza. It was a great cap to a wonderful, but all too short, week together. I can’t wait for their return!
