– Some News of Safran –
The dream was to meander through stunning rural France at a snail’s pace, stopping at bars and brasseries regularly, lending a hand to the lock-keeper and watching the sun set from the rear deck. Some of that has yet come true…..
…the story begins the day the Thames floods started in January. That was the day Safran was launched in Caversham. The next few months gave us little chance to test out the barge. Most of the time the Thames was on ‘yellow boards’, or worse.
So our trip down the Thames to Teddington was when we really got to know her. There were a few bumps and bruises along the way. Henley Bridge is a pig. Entering Shepperton Marina is like trying to thread a needle underwater. Finally we met up with Chris Date, our pilot, on a beautiful Sunday evening. We had a good to marginal forecast for the Channel and were (sort of) confident that going down the Thames in the middle of the night made sense.
There were a few anxious moments in the first (unlit) ten miles when Chris appeared to mutter, “which way do we go here?” But before long we were passing under familiar well lit bridges with the ebb tide. We had a sailing friend aboard to share the burden of a non-stop voyage of up to 24 hours. I was given the honour of steering under Tower Bridge and I then remember nothing until Tilbury after I crashed out for several hours.
The latest forecast was now looking a bit less favourable with fog forecast, followed by strengthening winds which would take us beyond our insurance limit. We would make a decision at North Foreland. The thought of spending endless days in Folkestone (a town of pubs, fish and chip shops and nothing else) or Dover (same as Folkestone but with a castle) filled us with dread and probably skewed the decision.
We went to the edge of the shipping lanes and got the latest forecast. Winds would pick up ‘later’ and fog would be patchy. We were only 4-5 hours from Calais. So we went for it.
Dover Strait is one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world – we saw five ships in the whole crossing! We were tied up in Calais marina before dark, our only mishap being when an incompetent fat French sailor managed to scrape his spinnaker pole on our bow while trying to get through the lifting bridge in a hurry. It had taken us a total of 19 hours from Teddington.
The Thames had become a familiar, if sometimes fickle, friend over the previous six months. Now we faced the cavernous jaws of the huge Calais sea-lock which would take us into the unknown world of huge peniches and massive locks.
Our plan was to take two months to get to Paris. What we had not realised was that we would spend all that time on commercial waterways. We would have to wait until next year for the slow meander down rural canals. Nord and Picardy is not for whimps! In addition we began to realise that my distant A Level in Physics and Diana’s brief spell at the Rutherford Nuclear facility were the only preparation we had for sorting out wattage, water leaks and waste oil.
Our first serious blip was only a few days into France. We had enjoyed a restful weekend in the marina at Arques when WHAM!, we entered the devil’s inferno – Fontinelles lock, a monster 13 metres deep and as big as a football pitch. We blew the fuse on the bow-thruster!
After that we discovered the most important attribute of all barge owners – resourcefulness. The search for replacement fuses took us to a Volvo Truck graveyard, several Feu Vert outlets and an obscure electrical distributor. I bought 23 spares, just in case we needed them.
We did find some peace and quiet on the Lys – a little used canal that has virtually no commercial traffic on the lower reaches. St Venant was the closest we came to the rural idyll, moored alongside a cottage where the ancient owner had lived for sixty years.
Over the next few weeks we got to know the great city of Lille by staying at what we called Warm Breeches (Wambrechies), the beautiful St Quentin Canal (and its awesome tunnel), the stunning ‘royal’ city of Compiegne and eventually the greatest city in the world – Paris. However, technical problems along the way stretched our faith in our ability to cope.
At different times our steering went a bit wonky, the drive shaft became detached from the gearbox and our depth gauge registered a constant zero. Our chart-plotter never worked. Most important of all – we could not get the black tank pump to work!! There have been low moments when we looked at each other and wondered whether it was all worth it. One thing we told ourselves often was that we made the right decision to buy a new boat with a warranty. ANY second hand boat is bound to have dark secrets, however good the survey. David and Simon have both made visits to us at short notice to sort us out – that has been a major source of reassurance.
Paris has been a calming influence (and a cheap one in the Arsenal, compared to any other lodging in the city) and we are now on the Upper Seine heading for a winter mooring on the Yonne. The urban sprawl of Paris disappears quickly and gives way to lovely scenery. We plan to travel slowly, stopping at moorings recommended by the DBA or friends we have made en route.
We have been on a steep learning curve and we under-estimated how much we would have had to learn about the mechanical and electrical systems. We hope that what we now know (and the elimination of teething problems) will make Season 2 on Safran closer to the romantic dream we had four years ago.
