Hull maintenance in Zelzate

29th September – 23rd October 2020

As we left the marina at Spanjeveer dawn was breaking on a lovely late September day. We were on our way to have the hull pressure washed and repainted – part of the five yearly maintenance programme.

The Moervaart was glorious in the early light, and we shared the calm waters with geese preparing for their winter habitat.

Calliope came out onto the big Gent-Terneuzen canal as the sun was emerging from behind the chemical works and other industrial sites.

The hour and a half cruise from Spanjeveer to Zelzate was both pleasant and interesting for me – and required concentration from the captain as we moved through the huge canal towards the boat yard.

We passed our share of wonderful gigantic seagoing ships, powerful little tugs, and plenty of other working boats.

We arrived a little early and had a pleasant wait, getting to know our new surroundings.

Carron Marine is situated right on the border between Belgium and The Netherlands. A border patrol boat was a frequent passer-by, checking that no coronaviruses passed from one country to the other no doubt!

Then the fun began, getting Calliope gently ‘beached’ on the two trolleys that would pull us at the slipway. (Apologies for the washed up rubbish! Not us)

Before too long we were pulled out of the water and placed behind our friend Peter’s boat on the slipway and chocked up for our stay.

A quick inspection showed an intact bow thruster, 6 be-barnacled but solid anodes and a ‘gift wrapped’ propeller.

Our high rise living could now begin, 10’ above the ground and with superb views out across the canal.

Then began a few days of waiting our turn in a shipyard busy getting commercial barges back out to work. The yard is full of photographic opportunities!

It gave us free time to explore the area. There is not a lot to see in Zelzate but there is a small pleasant park between the boat yard and the town. The lake in the park is part of the original line of the river, complete with a small flock of geese and a ‘scenic’ chemical works on the other side!

The town itself is unpretentious, has all necessary shops and services, and a nice church.

It was easy to keep busy. There was end of season cleaning to do aboard and Stu fitted a new water pump one day. The weather was very variable – blue skies one minute and storm force winds and rain the next. The sunsets, directly behind us, were constantly stunning.

We walked a lot and went out for beer and frites with Peter one evening, finding more new beer to try!

The activity on the canal was never ending, day and night, from little metal skiffs to huge ocean going ships, tugs and Dutch border patrols.

Then, on a wet windy day, came our turn for work to start – the pressure wash, to remove the relatively small amount of weed, baby mussels and tiny barnacles. It felt strangely exciting!

The following week was a time of weather watching – waiting for weather windows that were long enough for sanding down, priming, top coating.

At last the grey skies were considered right enough and the guys got to work on the preparation, searching out all the little places where five years of enjoyable intensive cruising have left their little marks – all surface level scars thank goodness!

Then followed a couple more days too wet for painting, but good for watching what goes on around us and searching out interesting objects to photograph in the shipyard.

We also did more walking around Zelzate, discovering amongst other things the Mietje Stroel – their female equivalent of the more famous ‘mannekin pis’ statues found around Belgium.

And we bought a near impossible jigsaw to keep us busy – night and day!

And there was one glorious sunset after another, often flooding the yard with such golden light you would think I had a filter on the camera!

Then the weather set fair for a day’s painting on Friday! The first coat above the waterline was applied!

A glass was raised that evening in honour of the next stage being accomplished! This was not the best time of year to be attempting outdoor re-painting, but the coronavirus had put paid to the more sensible plans earlier in the year.

We waited on tenterhooks through a very wet weekend, watching the skies and the forecasts. Would Monday allow the second coat?

I did have some fun on Sunday, persuading the Captain to push me out on the metal skiff to grab a water logged branch that was trapped on the slipway rails!

Disappointingly it was grey and moist on Monday morning so we walked into Zelzate market and bought one or two goodies, then found a moment of sunshine in a the park for an impromptu picnic!

Amazingly when we returned to Calliope we found the team drying off the last of the rain drops from the boat and about to add the second coat! And on it went, followed by the requisite six hours without rain; hooray – great progress.

The jigsaw too was making progress – which would be finished first, the barge or the puzzle?

There was constant daily activity on the canal, but that evening saw 10 minutes of big sea going ships with attending tugs, border patrol boats and commercial barges all passing in a rush hour mass.

But it was clear that the seasons were changing and we made ourselves extra cosy with our Refleks stove – toasty warm.

We had everything crossed for good weather to continue for the final paintwork, so were relieved and smiling to see the sunlit dawn.

After two weeks the better weather meant that things were beginning to draw to a close – with the below-the-waterline paint being applied, and the jigsaw nearing completion.

In fact after a bit of a last minute shock when the ‘last’ two pieces didn’t fit ……

…. we were able to place the 1000th piece! So the jigsaw won.

The following day the final coat was applied and we stood back and admired what the team at Carron Marine had done – beautiful!

That evening we drank a toast to the ‘blackened’ Calliope as the sun went down.

While the work had been going on we kept busy with odd jobs around the boat, an autumnal clean, and more walking around the area.

There are things here that fascinate me, like the last old house in the old town of Zelzate, quite grand amongst all the cottages, and the potato vending machine!

And our last day was also the last day of pubs and restaurants being open in Belgium for the foreseeable future, because of coronavirus.

So we treated ourselves to a delicious meal out at the local Italian restaurant as a ‘last supper’. (There seems to be quite a bot of raising a glass of rosé in this blog! There must have been plenty of things to celebrate.

Before we left I grabbed a photo of the old customs house, now a B&B, where we almost stayed instead of staying on the barge! It is right next door to the boatyard, so a good place to stay for the non-intrepid.

Although sad to be leaving the area it was time to move on. Three weeks out of water trying to keep the repainted hull as dry as possible meant that we had been unable to use our black water tank, grey water tank and sink as normal. We were also running short on fresh water and had been bringing jugs of water on board from a nearby tap.

The steps down from the barge, and up to the loo and tap were getting colder each day, although always adventure and a bit like camping out.

But nights were quiet, dark and cosy.

Got going early removing chocks and blocks that had supported us and lowering us gently onto the wagons that would run us down the slipway.

(She went down faster than she came up ….)

Splash down was faster than we expected! Luckily Peter was on hand to take this video as I was not ready for the moment.

Having splashed into the water, we then needed to splash some water in and on Calliope before we sailed away. We and wash down filled the fresh water tank enough for the rest of the season, and I had a happy bit of wet-play hosing off all the dust and much that cannot help accumulating on the boat when you are in a busy yard for three weeks.

At last it was time to bid a fond goodbye Carron Marine, Alex, Joey, Tim, Martin and the rest of the team.

Then we were out on the canal heading south to Gent and going towards the Zelzate bridge that we had never seen open – today it opened!

Here are two happy Calliope crew – we’re back on the water! We are on the big Gent-naar-Ternuezen Kanaal, and enjoying every minute.

On the outskirts of Gent we stopped to replace our two gas bottles as we were just about out. The first place we moored up next to unfortunately did not have the right fittings for our gas system. Luckily less than a kilometre along the road was an alternative supplier so we set off with the sack truck – there and back twice and replaced both bottles.

We felt really good then. We had gas, freshwater, empty grey and black water tanks and fully charged batteries. All the utilities one takes for granted in the house are always much more interesting on a boat and you learn to use them wisely.

Before long we were through the bridges, round the bends, and back into Portus Ganda. Calliope settled her gleaming hull beneath the glowing October creepers. ….

… and we paid a short outdoor socially distanced visit to our great friends on Dreamer. Coronavirus sadly put paid to our plans for a reunion supper together, but there was just enough warmth left in the evening air for a half hour chat together.

Next morning we planned to leave at 9, but a quick glance at the waterways notices showed that the first lift bridge, just round the corner, was going to be closed for repair apart from a short spell between 1200 and 1230. This gave me time to walk into Gent for some more great bread, and a couple of treats – a mini Merveilleuse de Fred each, and a worstbroot to share.

Add to that the Gent mustard that appeared as if by magic on our roof that morning (thank you naughty Mieke mustard fairy!), and we were set to leave.

We said goodbye to a grey Gent in style with a sail-by of Dreamer and a farewell salute to Frans.

We had good views of some of the tremendous street art of the city, encouraged by the council, and appreciated the autumn colours along the banks – these at at Tolhuissluis.

Soon we had turned onto the Verbindingscanal, our chosen route out of town, passing all the interesting boats that are moored along both sides.

We had another wait before we went through the swing bridge as that is closed between 1230 and 1300; lunch is important. But after that we were truly on our way.

We turned to starboard to join the Brugsevaart, past many colourful houses and under a bridge that is in the process of being demolished, or so it seemed to us; we passed under without incident.

Next we approached the Ringvaart, the M25 of the canal world around Gent, often busy with mega-barges in both directions; we consulted the AIS system to see what was around.

All was clear so we poked our nose out, a quick visual check, and dashed across towards Brugge.

After a few kilometres a turn to port into the Kanaal van Schipdonk, or Afleidingskanaal van de Leie, took us on towards Deinze where we wanted to stay the night. Once again we checked the AIS and could see we would be following another barge along the canal.

That turned out to be a rather heavily laden, slow moving barge so we crawled along behind it until we reached the turning for Deinze.

There was a pleasure turning onto the Leie at Deinze. We have been up here a couple of times before. We knew where we were going. We had phoned ahead and checked that the bridge into the town quay was operating and that there was room to moor.

Our only two, pleasant, surprises were the new almost completed footbridge ….

…. and a ferris wheel next to the church. looking glorious as the sun began to set. It seemed to be there for half term and was going to bet going the following night. We would miss it – “shame”, said the Captain!

The weather was slightly less glorious when we left Deinze in the rain the following morning, but we had had yet another pleasant evening in this unassuming little town.

I missed most of the trip eastwards along the Leie due to a conference call Trustee meeting of a charity I work with, but I was called upon to be on deck for the two locks we passed through. At the first lock it was still raining, but by the second the skies were clearing.

Harelbeke Lock, the last one, on the outskirts of Kortrijk, has just finished a major design and rebuild, and is looking very smart.

So finally we came into Kortrijk, our current home port. What a wonderful, calming, end-of-the-season feeling, even though we had to squeeze into the 21 metre space waiting for our 20 metre boat! The Captain ceremoniously took down the flags and we were officially tied up for winter.

That left us a day and a half of cleaning, maintenance and winterising, moored up in our favourite spot.

There was also time for a final gobbled wafel! Due to the closure of cafés and restaurant ts it had to be a take-away, eaten in a cold grey, empty square, but delicious just the same.

There was left over bread that allowed plenty feeding of the ducks and coots and moorhens, causing more than one coot-war!

It was time to go home until next year, but also still time for an evening walk around Kortrijk to get a few more images to help me remember how lovely it is to be here.

Our journey home on three trains was straightforward enough, though was masks-on for the full six hours against the virus. Ever since we left the UK four months ago we have been wearing masks in public places so didn’t feel too afflicted – and, so far, it has kept us in good health – so well worth it.

Steerers’ Epilogue

And so – another great summer, with wonderful memories of places and people (and beers) we got to know along the way. The people in particular that you meet on boats are from all walks of life, but share the same insane and wonderful common denominator of a floating maintenance schedule – and will rally round anyone within that community needing assistance.

It’s a special life, and I’d just like to finish off Lesley’s last blog of the year if I may, by saying that we pinch ourselves all the time for these years we are enjoying afloat.

We were heading for Holland this year before the virus persuaded us to stay within the Belgium borders – and it has been a delightful adventure. We’ve been to fascinating places we’d not heard of months previously, and enjoyed every one.

Where will we be next year? It doesn’t matter, it’s all good!

Down and up the Durme

16th to 29th September 2020

We left Gent on the Tuesday, with a lovely send-off, knowing (or should I say thinking?) we had almost 2 weeks to kill while waiting to go into the boat yard for the 5-yearly hull cleaning and painting.

The cruise out of Gent was interesting in itself, up through the working parts of the port, going past not only big canal commercial barges but also the huge seagoing ships – some seeming to have lost their Plimsoll line!

And a few interesting little boats too.

Some kicked up a good wake; we almost felt back at sea!

The turn onto the little Moervaart canal (this is what the river Durme is named as it goes through the moor lands north of Lokeren) seemed very calm in comparison.

We had imagined turning immediately into the countryside! But there was a kilometre of industry to travel through first.

It was not far to the port where we had booked in for the night – the one by Spanjeveerbrug at Mendonk .

We were soon pleasantly settled in right next to another bailey bridge – that must be our third bailey bridge next to a mooring this year, and in fact in our lives.

It was so pleasant that we decided to spend a second night there too. I had cycled into one village for bread both days so Stewart and I took a walk in afternoon in the other direction out amongst the flat fields of the polders.

The first stage of our cruise one down the river towards Lokeren gave an indication of the lovely scenery to follow.

The journey down the Durme through the 7 lift and swing bridges, spaced over 16 kms, is done in the company of any other boats going that way – 2/3 chances each day depending day of week etc. We went to the first bridge and moored up for lunch, ready for a 1315 start.

The cruise down to Lokeren is constantly fascinating. We were lucky enough to go down in September sun, enjoying the rural views along the way. I loved the now defunct, non-moving, Vapeurbrug – more photos of this one on our way back!

We went through a succession of bridges in a small convoy of two boats – us in the lead – and at the last bridge our companion barge peeled off to moored on the waiting pontoon for the night.

We continued on towards Lokeren, with the river becoming increasingly bendy, including several hairpins. It also became increasingly busy with kayaks and small electric hire boats.

We would come upon these as we rounded a bend, towering above them, with the Captain making sure we didn’t hit any!

As we rounded the final bend into Lokeren port we were hailed from the bank by Tony, a Brit who lives on a boat there. He strongly suggested that we turn round in the slight widening of the bend and go astern into the moorings. So we did

It wasn’t that easy, us being 20m long and the winding hole being about 24m wide, and plenty of people stopped to watch super Captain Stu manage it slowly and carefully. At one point we were beautifully broadside on to the river, stopping all other water traffic.

But before long, at the end of quite a long day, we were comfortably moored up in the park-like surroundings of the town port.

We stayed for four warm sunny days, enjoying Lokeren’s ambience. The city is small with a centre that only retains a few old buildings – the allies bombed it by mistake towards the end of WW2. But there is still plenty to enjoy, with the river running through the centre, a lively central square, and quite a few fountains! It’s prosperity was built on making felt for hats, which involved cutting the hair off rabbit and hare pelts – hence the rabbit statues.

We treated ourselves to a frituur supper one night, in a funky 50’s diner style fritterie.

The food was good too!

We had a nature day, walking along the river and up into one of the many parks, a history day at the museum, and an art day, engaging with some of the sculptures that are all around the city – much of it metallic.

The art day was quite hot so we rewarded ourselves in the shade with a new beer for Stu (note the very classy bottle) and a new Kriek for me (note the rather bling glass!).

Apparently the beer was ‘thumbs-up’ good.

It was a very pleasant place to spend some September days ……..

……. although we awoke next morning to a completely different scene!

This was the day of our departure – the geraniums the only brightness in sight.

We had booked the first bridge at 1030 so Stu set off very slowly, round the twists and turns of the river, often only visible from the wheelhouse at the moment the bow reached the bend!

This took a lot of the helmsman’s concentration.

By the time we reached the first bridge at Daknam the midst was starting to clear, but it had been an exhausting trip and the waiting pontoon (with a 30 hour mooring limit) seemed delightful – so we decided to stop our voyage until the next day.

Moored up in the rising mist there was a sense of relief – no urgency to continue now; lovely lovely.

And as the mist cleared we discovered just how lovely it was, a very peaceful rural place to wait for 24 hours.

Just looking out of the window in the morning was a joy, watching the moorhens and coots finding their breakfast around the water lilies.

The little village of Daknam is quite close to the mooring. It has developed its own fame a being the site of the Lions Court in the medieval story of Reynaud the fox, who cheats the King out of his gold. A stuffed fox proudly stands beside the church and other reminders of the story are around the village.

But as I walked round the village my phone rang and it was the shipyard to let me know that our arrival date there was delayed by 5 days! New plans had to be made.

Only one night is allowed on the Daknam pontoon so we were still ready to go next morning at 1030, on a day with much greater visibility than the one before!

The sunshine and fresh air pulled me towards the other side of the river from the mooring and a quick walk between maize fields before we set off.

I promised more photos of the old Vapeurbrug on our way back – here they are. What a fabulous piece of industrial history.

We decided to enjoy our delay and headed for the recommended willow tree mooring at The Bavohoeve brasserie. This must be one of the prettiest places we have stopped, although the high winds that arrived later that day did rather cover Calliope with willow fronds!

The mooring is free but one feels obliged to eat there, so we had an extremely pleasant meal, isolated from the next table by big polythene sheets! I hope I did not disgrace myself too much by showing my appreciation of the mussel juice!

We asked to stay a second night, and promised to come up for a drink or two – equally enjoyable. The colours in the morning were glorious across the river, surprisingly with rape in bloom in late September.

It gave us a day in pleasant surroundings and I took a walk in breezy sunlight before a storm brewed up around us, whipping the willow branches around the wheelhouse while we were cosy within.

We had booked back in at Spanjeveer marina for our last few days on the Dorme/Moervaart and cruised up there in the sun before lunch next day. It took all of 5 minutes! We were only just round the bend, so soon tied up.

By the afternoon Storm Odette was spinning towards us alternating sun and squally showers. Captain monitored his ropes carefully as we were in for a night of it!

It absolutely poured with rain all night, and the wind blew noisily all around us. It was still raining in the morning, so a day aboard looked likely and I started the autumn cleaning of all the drawers on the boat.

The geese began their day on the mud at the side of the river, but as the waters rose a foot they climbed up onto the bank and watched from there.

Later the sun surprised us and made an appearance. We were running short of one or two essentials like milk, potatoes and onions, so I cycled off to the closest mini-supermarket at Zaffelare. It was a pleasant 15 ride there, and a pleasant 30 minute ride back, as I got lost!

I came back to the boat to a beautiful evening of racing clouds and happy cattle, back out after sheltering from the storm.

Two lazy days left until we are off to the shipyard. On Sunday Stewart and I walked to the closest village bakery for fresh bread – a country walk, much of it along a footpath between fields. We had plenty of time to do some internal boat cleaning and maintenance, getting ready for the winter shut down.

I was drawn outside again later and found another circular walk around country lanes and wooded tracks. I passed by this lovely little chapel, dedicated to St Bavo.

Our last day here at Spanjeveerbrug was wet again – all day! I discovered during our stay that the word ‘veer’ in Spanjeveerbrug means ferry, and I am not surprised that a ferry was needed here in the past – so much water! Actually the ferry went over the old course of the river, now a fishing lake.

So this is how Monday September 28th 2020 looked for us – weather for cleaning the fridge, cooking windfall pears in spicy wine, and dancing to my favourite Youtube videos. Off to Carron Marine in the morning!

Late August in the region of Antwerp

Canals Bocholt-Herentals, Dessel-Turnhout-Schoten, Albert, Nete (and river Beneden-Nete) and Leuven-Dijle

18th to 31st August 2020

It was a Tuesday when we left the Blauwe Kai area in Limburg region and moved into the Antwerp province. The latter had been having a bit of a coronavirus spike, especially in Antwerp itself, but we felt safe isolated on our barge.

The night before I had called the lock keeper for Mol 1, literally around the corner, some 200 yards away, and stated our intention to set off through his lock next morning. He suggested 6am! I rather balked at that and suggested 9am. This was agreed upon.

There are three Mol locks, (well a Lommel and two Mol), one of them a double, within two and a half kilometres. All three locks were in various stages of dilapidation and requiring modernisation or repair.

And all three lock keepers were lovely, friendly, helpful. It was a glorious morning and a beautiful experience to go down the 11.9m required.

After another kilometre and a half we were in the really huge basin crossroads where the Kanaal Bocholt-Herentals crosses with Kanaal Dessel-Kwaadmechelen to the South and Kanaal Dessel over Turnhout Naar Schoten to the North.

We were taking the latter, adding in an extra Northern loop to use up some spare time. We moved from what felt like the widest to the narrowest of Belgian waterways.

We were not going far – just 5 kms to an area with several mooring options. Along the way we crossed paths with one of the stranger commercial barges – one transporting containers of stinking refuse, driven from the front, and with twin hulls.

We arrived at our planned destination, but no moorings were suitable! And a lift bridge faced us, necessitating a call on the VHF. At the same time we saw our friends’s boat moored at the side where we had thought to stop!

Seeing us they sprang into action and followed us up stream towards Turnhout, both soon following a very slow working barge. Along the way we had close encounters with several commercial barges, including at this bridge where we were commanded to go through first despite the near proximity of the giant the other side!

Through radio conversations we both agreed to phone ahead to Turnhout marina and book a space – except we managed to book different Turnhout marinas! Ours was out in the country where we shared a hammerhead with friends on Dreamer, looking out onto a ‘lake’ in the canal. Theirs was in the centre of town a few kilometres further on.

Many lovely things to say about this place, one being the bar. It was made somehow from half an old barge, with an outside top deck of tables and a cosy inside. Beyond this was a marquee with funky sofas and tables beneath the trees.

On Day Two at Het Gevaer Marina we did two cycle rides – one for shopping in Ravels, and one for a new tap in Turnhout. The latter gave us a glimpse of this rather lovely town, well worth a longer visit.

And the former took me past my first ever strawberry vending machine!

Back in the marina we were once more trying out the bar and it’s beer! This one, Zot, was very refreshing and is, apparently, ‘the one and only town beer of Brugges’, from De Halve Maan brewery.

Day three was the start of a very social period. Two generations of Dreamer’s family arrived and we spent a lovely time with them playing boule, enjoying a barbecue, and lots of happy chat. I managed not to disgrace myself too badly at the boule game.

The evening ended with a sunset display that both Ferre, Mieke’s grandson, and I found irresistible.

The following day we made use of the petrol station round the bend. It was planned in advance that we should arrive and moor up at 10 and wait until a tanker could arrive with our diesel. It was a nicer wait than we expected.

Especially when accompanied by this little beauty.

All was done by 1230 and we had a tank full of fuel at a very decent price.

Back at the marina I found an enjoyable way to update our devices! I could use the marina wifi, sitting downstairs in the bar with a beer and a view.

There was one more evening to enjoy the company of the Dreamer family, then off we went blazing a trail towards Schoten with the expectation that we would be followed.

What a send off!

There were many lift bridges at which to request passage and we made way steadily……

….. until we approached our first lock and were told it was under repair until noon, or 1pm, or maybe 2. So we moored up for a lunch stop. Yes, we moored partly under a bridge; we thought it was just for an hour or so.

But when the lock eventually opened Captain Stu said he felt settled here at Sint-Jozef, Rijkevorsel, and so we stopped for the night. Not long after we were joined by a cruiser going in the opposite direction which foiled our plan of moving away from the bridge. Can be a funny one, mooring under a bridge, but we were fine here.

We took our usual promenade around our surroundings, discovering a few things of which this area is proud. Firstly it’s been a major brick making place, sadly now mostly gone.

Secondly their author, Aster Berkhof, now aged 100, who has published loads of novels over a 70 year period.

Thirdly the village is the site of a major bridgehead in WW2, leading to the liberation of this part of Belgium by British Infantry and Canadian army.

Most old buildings have gone, presumably during the war, but two shrines remain. There is also a hidden blue lake in a sandy wood, which I am guessing was a originally a pit and source of sand for the brickworks.

We were totally spoiled by nature that evening, with this golden sunset.

Then up and ready to continue our journey in the morning. As we cast off at 9.30 the boatman next door ran up asking where we were going. We explained we were going through the lock – and he explained that the locks on this canal don’t operate on a Sunday!

So one more day in Sint-Jozef; we moved the boat forward, in front of them and away from the bridge, (that’s better), and settled down to a day of RnR. A short days’ cruise even by our own high standards …..

Stu – Mention the black tank? No; boats are a floating maintenance schedule, and it was sorted.

I couldn’t resist another walk up to see the lock that we will eventually go through Sluis 1 – which has an amazingly modern office. Much of the quayside has been carefully and interestingly renovated.

Our second evening here had more striking skies to keep an amateur photographer happy for hours!

The evening looked so lovely that I was off again, walking up the canal, passing another reminder of the area’s brickwork history, then through the darkening woods into the back of the village, and ‘home’.

Warning – rather a lot happens over the next two days, so more words than usual; sorry!

Monday morning we were ready to go and moved up to Sluis 1, making contact on the radio as we did so. A charming and friendly female lock keeper came to manage the operation, and it was at this point that we became aware of the work going on along this section of the canal top modernise the locks and bridges – not yet complete! Here, at Sluis 1, she had to carry a heavy box of tricks from end to end and side to side of the lock, plugging it in at each corner to open/close gates and open/close sluices. It took a while.

Many of the locks have these high poles attached to the upstream gates. They allow the Captain of a big working barge to see from his/her wheelhouse if the gates are open or closed – and presumably safe quite a few damaged gates.

At sluis (lock) 2 we waited a while for the lock keeper to set us in motion, and as we left the lock a working barge was waiting behind us for his attention.

When we reached sluis 3 an elderly lock keeper appeared to help us. Through my usual interrogation techniques, initially in Dutch, I discovered that he had been a teacher of English, Greek, Latin, French and Dutch – so we soon landed on a common language to use! I discovered that he was responsible for the nice flowers at the lock, and, as we left, he added conspiratorially that actually his son was the lock keeper, and ‘sshhh’ we must not mention that he has operated the lock! He was a lovely man.

The hold up at Sluis 4 was partly of our own making. We now understood that each lock keeper was responsible for two locks and any associated bridges, (cycling on a Waterways bike between the locks) so equally understood that the lock keeper for locks 4 and 5 was currently down at lock 5 bringing a commercial barge up, while we waited to go down.

Then just as we saw the boat arising before us another commercial, Ibis, appeared behind us. We would not fit in thew lock together so I got into the radio and asked his who would go first, him or us. “Oh thank you”, he replied. “I will go first.” Which meant we were waiting for Ibis to go down two locks, and then for an over-relaxed lock keeper to come back to see us through. It took hours – literally.

Well that was enough for one day; we moored up after lock 5, with the mobile phone number for lock 6 in my pocket.

This was Sint-Job-in-t’Goor, a lovely mooring in both extremes of weather that came upon us.

Off I went for my exercise, finding the calm blues and greens of a canal basin just along the bank.

I also saw more of the special deer ramps built into the banks to allow animals that have fallen in to find somewhere to d ramble out. France could learn from this!

There was information that I don’t entirely understand about tanks, sluices and special camouflaged pill boxes along the bank. I must translate it. Maybe someone can help me?

Evening, night and dawn were all stunning here in Sint-Job-in-t’Goor.

We planned a relatively gentle day to the end of the canal for the following day, stopping just before the last lock, 10, that would take us out onto the canal highway of the Albert Canal. And it began that way, though a bit on the damp side.

We saw plenty more evidence of the works on the locks – quite sad at Sluis 7 where our gentle veteran lock keeper, who had cycled down from Sluis 6, was in conversation with the three young engineers busy with the modernisation that would put him out of a job.

At lock 8 our plans began to fall apart. We were asked our destination for that day, and on saying that it would be before lock 10 we were informed that we could not moor there. Seeing as we had by then passed all other mooring options on the Canal Dessel Turnhout Schoten we had little option but to go on out onto the mighty Albert canal.

We were ok about this. It was easy to be flexible about not mooring at Schoten and set off onto the HUGE Albert Canal. We have been up and down the Rhone, on the tidal Thames, the Canal du Nord. So although it’s not our favourite kind of cruising we were up for the short Albert Canal challenge until we turned off it again.

But we ended up with more than enough excitement for one day. It was still ok when our passage out of the smaller canal was blocked by not one but two giant barges passing by.

I even dealt calmly with VHF to the nearby mega lock, quickly understanding we would be third boat into the largest (I mean l-a-r-g-e) lock and so we moored up to wait.

Then customs, on a boat called Nele, sprang out of hiding and asked for our papers and passports – but as these are all in order and always ready we were still ok. Nice chap, had a good laugh about bureaucracy and wearing a mask in the middle of no-where – which neither of us were …..

But sharing that l-a-r-g-e, d-e-e-p lock with four 80m barges – two strapped together and pushed by a pusher – was not quite so easy. No floating bollards, only bollards in the wall, spaced out so that we could only use one at the bow, and with all the big barges using their propellers to hold their place, so turbulence everywhere.

Initially I was unable to get a bow rope round the intended bollard in the wall, so we had to go further forward to the next mooring position and therefore unpleasantly close to the huge churning screws of Sinbad. No problem though as the skipper drove against my bow rope until the slack time during the lock fill, about half way up, when everyone cuts their engines to move their ropes up to the next level of bollards in the wall.

It took a little bit of doing and manoeuvring, but with Stu in charge of putting the bow where I needed it to be we calmly moved up the required notch. And as the lock filled, and the doors opened, we all steamed out in orderly procession, waving goodbye as we went. All’s well that ends well.

We’ve done a few tough locks by now as regular readers of my beautiful crew’s blogs will know and, though that was one to remember, if you keep your whits about you they’re all do-able.

The next stretch of the Albert Canal was actually quite pleasant, and included passing a floating church!

Soon we were at our turn off onto the Netecanal. Ah, the relative smallness and calmness; wonderful. Ah, agreed, wonderful.

We had various mooring options along here – or thought we did until we looked at each. Gradually we ticked them off as not quite right, taking us closer and closer to friends on Dreamer – and ended up tying up in front of them at Lier.

We had a good chat about the incoming storm that was causing them to spend an extra night at Lier, said hello to Google the dog, then checked and added to mooring lines, battened down hatches, ate and went to bed. It had been quite a day.

Next day became gradually calmer and was full of shopping, cooking and entertaining. Mieke and Frans came for an English supper of stew and dumplings. It’s fair to say that a good time was had by all.

Next day Dreamer set sail towards home and we began our exploration of Lier. There is so much to see in the small town and I begin with some of the old buildings including the peaceful lanes of the Beguinage.

We walked through to the Grote Markt and found the tourist office in the grand surroundings of the town Hall.

There was also a good lunch moment when we found the long sought croque madame for the captain at the café in the square. (3 years – only saying ..)

In the afternoon we visited one of the most intriguing small museums I have ever found. It was all about Mr Zimmer and the amazing clocks he created, the Jubilee clock and the Wonder clock. I cannot begin to do them justice here; I just suggest you google them and read for yourself.

Then there was the Prisoners Gate …

…  and the tributaries of the river running through the town. Lier is called the little Brugges and I am not surprised.

After all this sightseeing we were pleased to escape into calm of the park. There are quite a few Fountains around town so I have added one more in here, plus a giant red dog statue that caught our eye.

I expect you have been wondering why the people of this region are called ‘sheep heads’! Well it turns out that after helping duke to fight a war against another town they were offered either a university or a livestock market. They chose the latter and have been called ‘sheep heads’ ever since.

Just one more thing about Lier before we leave and that is the famous cake. I regret it is not my favourite of the regional Belgian cakes, although the sweet spicy taste would be good with hot custard I think.

After a good nights sleep it was our turn to proceed down the Netecanal, through Duffel lock and onto the tidal River. The lock has double doors each end to cope with the tidal changes.

As we motored downstream with the outgoing tide the skies began to blacken.

We were looking for our turning to port onto the Dijle river and eventually saw the small entrance we must go through. It looked as if we might turn away from the rain clouds, but that was not to be.

We came up to Zennegat lock with a warning from the lock keeper not to get too close to the gates until all the water had come out and then moved into a very strangely shaped lock just as the first patters of rain began to fall.

The lock had a double oval shape and was interesting, to say the least, in terms of places to moor a 20 meter barge! But there’s always a Calliope crew found a way to safely negotiate our way through.

The rain began to fall in earnest as we came up to the next lock and through various bridges. Thank goodness for my mothers old sailing wellies that I had on board. And thank goodness I like sloshing around in the water.

We came into Mechelen wondering if there would be space where we wanted to tie up, as is often the case.

Then we found a surprisingly peaceful place along the canal in a residential area. (It was less peaceful next morning at seven when builders recommenced work on a building site alongside!)

The rain stopped, the Sun found a way through the trees, and a rainbow found a way through the clouds. This is going to be an attractive mooring.

Saturday is market day in Mechelen and Saturday was the grey day we woke up to. We set off to the market taking a look at parts of the town along the way. The market was being run in a good coronavirus fashion with masks required, hand sanitiser at every entry point, a one-way system, and distancing of 1.5 m. Everyone is used to it now and it works well. The market is a good one with some excellent food stalls and we came away with some goodies to keep us going several days.

After a bit of lunch out in town, when you can in-mask, we retired to the boat promising ourselves a better look at the place next day.

As so often happens the skies and reflections along the canal were breathtaking.

The better weather attracted me back outside for a final evening walk along the canal. As I turned into the city to walk back along the streets I caught the splendid sight of the lit up Brusselpoorte gate into town.

We chose Sunday as our main ‘Explore Mechelen’ day, knowing there would be less people around. It was a joy – quiet historic streets, and a few interesting modern settings too.

Another park and another bridge for me to stand on.

And another opportunity for me to lose my mask – I don’t think I’ve mentioned how often I drop it! Poor Stewart waiting yet again for me to go searching. Ah, there it is!

We also found the remains of a complex of 7 water mills and sluices, now mostly gone, but the sense of industry past is still there.

We were close to the end of our first visit to Mechelen, planning to return when we came back up this dead end canal.  It a few more pleasures were in store – all gastronomic!

Stu bought a special souvenir beer from a new friend, Pete, we had made. He runs the solar powered boat that takes passengers up and down the canal.

The beer is made in the local brewery and is 10% ABV. (We stopped and bought some more from the brewery on our way back – Anker Brewery). It took a adjustable wrench to get the cork out the bottle, but the ensuing beer was well worth the effort.

And we had egg, chips, beans and Mechelen meatballs for supper – with HP sauce. The meatballs had been bought in the market the day before, after we were offered a taste and given half of one each free! They are delicious – a mix of pork and beef, crispy in the outside and tender and moist in the middle. Yum!

So good night Mechelen – and tomorrow will take us to the very edge of the Antwerp province.

And so at 1015 on Monday 31st August – the 33rd anniversary of us meeting – we went off under the double Plaicancebrugge bridges at Mechelen and into our next province – Vlaams Brabant.

Lower Reaches of the Meuse (or Maas) in Belgium ….

… with a little bit of the Albert Canal, and the two tiny canals of Monsin and Haccourt-Visé

28th July – 7th August 2020

We were back on the Meuse after a year and a month. Last time we came downstream from France and turned off at Namur. This time we popped out of the Dendre at Namur and turned downstream towards Liège.

It was excellent fun having new special crew abroad who had not cruised with us before.

Broken rails over door at Grand-Malades lock

We had two locks to go through and we were very pleased to have the assistance at the first, where the bollards were widely spaced and also the ropes needed to be re-hung at different levels as we went down. Someone had had greater problems than us in this lock – the lock door is the type that rises from under the water. It looks like someone did not wait long enough and tried to drive over it!

Both crew took a turn at the helm and show themselves very capable!

And gave us all time to put our feet up as well.

The blend of old industry and nature was all around us – destined to become more industrial as we approached Liège in a few days time.

We came into Huy under the modern bridge of which they are very proud – ought to be one of the 4 wonders of Huy –

– and chose to initially moor up next to the bridge in the middle of town, despite the sign saying no mooring without authorisation.

So what did we do? We went to the tourist office and got authorisation – In fact they were surprised we asked and said nobody else ever moored there.

So moored up and lunched we set about exploring this rather interesting and characterful small town.

This began with a climb to the top of the rock opposite the boat where a huge triangular citadel, Li Tchestia, sits looking out over the river, (Huy wonder 1). There is of course plenty of history to this 1818 fortress but for now suffice it to say that PG Wodehouse was incarcerated here for a few weeks, along with hundreds of other prisoners, during the Second World War.

First we toured the cells, administration rooms, and displays.

Then we climbed the steps to the top.

The views from the big grassy roof were wonderful. Little Calliope can be seen in the third photo …..

… and from there the Captain, who had stayed with his ship, took a photo of us tourists above.

It will come as no surprise to readers of this blog that we had worked up a thirst for a beer in the square by the time we climbed back down. We arranged to meet the Captain by the 15th century fountain, Li Bassinia, (Huy wonder 2). He was ready and waiting with a hop and a skip ….

Thee are plenty of bars to choose from on the main square – and plenty of beers to choose from too.

We carried on to supper in the Irish bar – a bizarre concept in the middle of Belgium but they had the best deal on new season moules.

The bridge we were moored next to was the third wonder of Huy, Li Pontia. It had so many guises, depending on the tine of day. Here are just two views.

Due to coronavirus the town could not have its usual summer festival, but a plethora of metal sculptures around the town made it seem an artistic environment.

The following day our crew had to leave, but luckily not until the afternoon. This meant we had time for coffee in the square, an exploration of the market and a chance to buy some good cheeses, bread, fruit and a delicious rotisserie chicken for our lunch.

Masks for coronavirus

Captain and I walked up to the station and waved a sad farewell before returning to Calliope.

Then off for a walk, and over the old railway bridge – iconic in its own way, but not a Huy wonder.

We took our chance to walk through some of the oldest streets of Huy and discovered the quirky museum sited in an old abbey cloister.

The museum housed many old artefacts of ordinary life in Huy over the centuries, as well as more art based exhibits. It also housed some of the Cats of Huy – another summer festival substitute, and to be found everywhere.

We also went top the cathedral and saw the last of thew four wonders of Huy – Li Rondia – the rose window. My photos does not do it justice, nor justice to the East window and part of a wonderful art exhibition that was there at the time.

A last beer in Huy square before checking into the fritterie on the quayside – most excellent!

(Most of my beers look like cherryade, but they are Kriek, Belgian cherry beer!)

Time then to sit back and enjoy the reflections of old Huy across the Meuse.

Now, time to start planning our next move! A split hose in one of the toilets meant that we needed to find an address to which a new part could be posted. Luckily the yacht club just down stream could do that for us so we cast off next morning and travelled a couple of kilometres before tying up in the club basin.

We fully expected to be waiting at least five days for the new part from the UK so we settled in and got to know our new surroundings. To be honest there was not a lot to learn. We were very close to a busy road and rail line with no shops or bars nearby. 

And also close to a nuclear power station and gravel yard.

The saving grace was a small nature reserve that had been created within the adjacent basin. It was a pleasant place to walk around in the evening.

The reserve was built around an old basin that was presumably once busy with industry. A long pier marks the entrance.

Quite amazingly the part arrived the very next day, received by me sitting in the shade by the unmanned Capitainerie, worried that the courier would go away if the delivery was not really easy.

The weather was just entering about 10 days of heatwave, with temperatures over 32, and up to 38, every day – so no surprise that I was back in the water! Stewart thought I would come out luminous green.

We stayed one more night, allowing Senior Poo Engineer to felt the loo, and us to see the cooling towers in the warm glow of evening light before we left.

So after two nights at Corphalie we left the port and were back out on the mighty Meuse.

Our next move, a little further downstream, was to moor up to a high quay in the lea of an island. This gave us some protection from the wash and turbulence of the big commercial barges ploughing up and down the river.

It turned out to be wonderful. We were moored so low down the quay, to bollards in the wall, that we were out of sight of passers-by and could sit on the back deck watching kingfishers and the other birds that used the Island. As usual there are no photos of the kingfishers!

No kingfishers, but we did have one avian visitor who wanted to pose!

Once again we were adjacent to a nature reserve, this time created from a huge old gravel pit. It even had a bird hide, although not much to see at this time of year. Presumably the quay we were attached to had originally been the place for barges to moor and take away the gravel.

We spent two nights here and did have a mini explore of Amay, the local village. Like so many places in the area it has had an illustrious past. The church and many of the houses were quite grand in style.

Now it was time to move a lot further downstream, to Liège. The days cruising only included one lock, but for that one we had a bit of a wait outside and then a bit more inside, as so often happens. It was all very gentle and pleasant, this time with unbroken railings on the upstream gate, and nice floating bollards to ease our descent.

Above Ovoz-Ramet lock at Flémalle a chateau, built high on a rocky outcrop, peered down at our progress.

It was obvious we were moving away from the countryside and into an area of current and past industry. Some of the buildings and structures that intrigued us included an old blast furnace ….

…. and a series of about 12 ‘station de pompage’ (pumping stations). The latter had been built across a period that included both art nouveau and art deco styles. Here are just two; I should have taken photos of more of them!

We came under the famous bridge at Liège and found the long pier where we planned to moor completely empty! So we had our choice of places to tie up.

The pier offered lots of photo opportunities – on the left is a view from a higher vantage point, and then yours truly posing in the ring sculptures at the land end of the pier. Apparently there is a fountain installed at the far end, sadly not operational during our stay.

And for the eagle-eyed, yes we had been joined by other boats by then! Firstly the Piper Boat previously encountered upstream, with whom we shared a glass or two, and then Dreamer, our friends from Ninove.

The water that floods under the central section of the pier made this a surprisingly bumpy mooring each time a commercial barge went by – and even more so when two passed each other beside us! This is warning for those who follow us; moor towards one end or the other of the pier, avoiding the section where you can see the water flows beneath! We moved after a couple of nights as the commercial boats move from about 5.30am until about 10pm!

We stayed late for four nights, using the days to gently explore the city. It was still a place of coronavirus restrictions, with masks worn in all busy public places, restaurants carefully measuring the distance between tables, and hand sanitiser every few paces (it seemed).

The first building I fell for was this modern blue edifice, home to the Ministry of Finance and at leat one finance company – I think. Next was the stunning and inspiring station just Wow! You cannot trust appreciate it from this photo – just take my word for it.

Then we went for what is, apparently, the top tourist attraction in Liège; this was not one for a hot hot day, so I cooled down by a fountain first.

It is the 374 steps of the Montagne de Bueren, taking you from the old town by the river up to the citadel at the top.

Then a further 52 steps up to the memorial at the very top. We did them all.

It was worth it for the view!

It was now definitely time to sit down for a rest in the shade! Stu found the appropriate spot (to rest, in a knackered sort of a way…)

We found a different way down, through very pretty narrow cobbled lanes, winding between the high walls of gardens and houses; a ‘Zone calme’ indeed. (Whoops, one too many photos of me; sorry) (Whoops, crew has noticed the slightly ironic sign above her…)

Luckily we found Lou’s bar, in the shade, with cool beer to aid recovery.

Liège is the third largest city in Belgium and the old quarter is full of ancient churches, squares and lanes – and also full of the bustle and hustle of a modern centre with shopping arcades and busy streets. But our mooring was effectively on a large island, mostly given over to a pleasant park popular with the Liègoise. (Apologies again – I just can’t keep out of water!)

Our days in Liège meant I had time to photograph the surrounding waterside quite a few times; the trumpeting cherubs are at either end of Fragnes bridge.

Fragne bridge is so lovely, so one more photo at dusk to show it off some more.

Evenings were lovely on the back deck, finally in the shade after hot hot days. Our mooring was at the junction with the Ourthe river, here disappearing South through a bridge.

For just one night we were joined by El Perro Negro and Dreamer; three WOBs (Women on Barges) in a row.

After the four days and nights we were ready to move on to our last section of the Meuse, interspersed with a short time on the Albertkanaal, and also the mini connecting canals of Monsin and Haccourt-Visé.

We set off under the many bridges of Liège, past many wonderful buildings, and my favourite statue. Oh that I had that energy and bounce in my body now.

As we cruised downstream we looked up at the citadel and the hill we had climbed a few hot days before, and enjoyed the fact that it is always cooler on the water.

Before long we met the Albertkanaal, marked at its beginning with the HUGE Albert monument, sadly in the shade on our approach.

That didn’t stop me attempting to capture its height, majesty and style – front and back.

Only two kilometres on and we were at the Monsin lock where we could rejoin the Meuse (or Maas as it is called in Flandria) for a while, away from the hectic swirl of commercial traffic – not that bad really!). We had not realised that this lock only operates three times as day, and that we had three hours to wait, in the shade. It was also our official entry to Flandria from Wallonia so much paperwork ensued in the lock office!

We were travelling with El Perro Negro, and both crews took the time for lunch, rest and relaxation.

Then we were through the lock and cruising along the Maas, fully expecting to find a nice mooring in the shade somewhere. But it was not to be. After the full 10 kilometres of the river between Monsin and Visé, including the port at Visé, we found nowhere suitable.

Eventually, speaking to the harbourmaster at Visé, a very nice and helpful man, El Perro Negro were allowed to use an absent boat’s mooring for a night, and we tied up at the lock back to the Albertkanaal.

This turned out to be a lovely last resort! Calliope, dressed overall with her extreme heat uniform of un-uniform drapes and shades, helped us cool down from a very hot day.

After a siesta the evening light was just right for deadheading geraniums, a gentle supper and cold drinks on the back deck, again! And we were joined by a butterfly – maybe a comma?

The morning was as bright as was expected and the lock was lit by sunlight. It was the 7th August; the heatwave was with us for another week by the look of it!

So into the lock which was pleasantly spraying water all over me; towel at the ready.

And goodbye, Meuse/Mass; we go back onto the Albertkanaal.

From Blaton to Namur; a journey of 3 canals

22 – 27 July 2020

Canals Nimy-Blaton-Peronne, du Centre, and Brussels-Charleroi

As we left the Ath-Blaton Canal at Blaton and joined the Nimy-Blaton-Peronnes our hearts sank a little; we were leaving a narrow-gauge rural canal for the width of the commercial , industrial, super highway canal system again.

But we needn’t have worried, al least not at the start. Having negotiated the final 7 locks in the Ath-Blaton we still reached our next mooring by midday.

This was the Grand Large de Pommeroeul – an amazingly peaceful mooring on a very long pier in a large basin.There was only one other barge on the pier – somewhat larger than its and making Calliope suddenly microscopic! (It’s a bit of an optical illusion in fact, but don’t let that stop a good story…)

The basin was to be the start of the new Pommeroeul-H….. Canal, linking Belgium and France. However after 10 years of operation from 1982-92 the ‘siltation’ was so bad that out had to close. The Belgians dredged their side; the French, so far, have not – although it is due to be done by 2021.

In the meantime all the necessary equipment – locks, sluices, piers etc – remain unused. The huge lake after the first lock is now a leisure amenity for the locals, great for swimming, canoeing, fishing, jet-skiing and more.

We took a walk (2.5kms) into the village of Pommeroeul, famous for its ‘croncq clocher’, the crooked steeple of the church, and its iguanodons. I have photos of the former, but not the latter. The museum of the iguanodons should be visited if you like dinosaurs; in the 19th century coal miners discovered a huge mass of fossilised dinosaur bones including several full iguanodons, crocodiles, birds and other.

Our view out across the Grand Large changed rather when a second commercial barge joined us. It was from the Infinity group; we have met up with several of these barges and the crews have always been polite and friendly, so no surprise when later on the Captain walked along the pier for a chat.

The change in view made no difference to our enjoyment of the evening in the sun at (almost) the centre of a wide open water space. Cheers!

We awoke to another glorious day and were off Eastwards along the canal.

Now it did begin to seem more industrial! This would continue through most of our journey past Charleroi and a bit beyond! (Great photo LJ)

At Mons we moved seamlessly from the Nimy-Blaton-Peronne canal onto the Canal du Centre. The occasional more rural scene did appear.

And we had the first of our larger locks, 5m deep and about 80m long, shortly followed by one of 10m depth. We ascended both with no problem, with the floating bollards in the big one making things much easier.

At Thieu the quay was mainly empty; we were soon moored up and could have lunch. All very peaceful.

Boats went by.

Fisherman (Tweedledum and Tweedledee) came and went.

Then there were three things of interest that happened over the next 21 hours …..

….. we walked up the old Canal Historique, getting great views of Ascenseur 4, the final downstream one of the four that took barges up and down prior to the new(ish) method.

We were also allowed into the working area. The old Ascenseur works using two boat lifts and the counterbalance of water to raise and lower them. Although water supplies the ‘muscle’, it is still manually operated. (Smelled like an old machine shop too – Mmmmmmm)

It is a lovely walk along the old canal historique to Strèpy. Last time we were here the annual festival was on and it was a very lively place all along the canal bank – much quieter this time.

We searched for a bar with a nice open seating area – still on the 1.5m distance coronavirus rules – but only found this one bar open; friendly and good beer.

You can get good sense of the grandeur of the aquaduct leading up to the top of the modern boat lift when walking the old canal path.

And also good views of the ascenseur (the boat-lift) over the top of the lower part of Strépy.

On the return from our walk we were a little alarmed to see lots of blue flashing lights near Calliope! As we got closer it was clear it was not a boat in trouble. A car had gone into the canal, luckily with no people inside.

After 2 ambulances, 3 police cars, 2 fire brigade vehicles (one for diving equipment) and a car from the Wallonian waterways authority, the rescue got underway. A car breakdown truck completed the team and a yellow VW Polo was dragged out.

The last of the interesting events at Thieu was the planned one – going up, next day, on the Strepy-Thieu Ascenseur.

We came down it last year, so it was not completely new, but it is spectacular and amazing in its engineering and views nonetheless.

So no apologies for all the photos. I was amused by the ‘Risk of Decapitation’ sign – I managed to keep my head.

We continued along the modern Canal du Centre, through the Porte de Garde, with black clouds looming. But they came to naught.

At the end there is a T junction with the Canal Brussels-Charleroi. We were expecting this to be horribly industrial – our memories did not serve us well because it meanders along between gentle green hills for quite a way. (We know Charleroi itself will be a different story!)

The mooring plan was to be above the lock at Viesville, where we stayed last year. This worked out fine; plenty of space

We knew there was the chance of being gradually surrounded by gentle-giant commercial barges as they came in to rest overnight, but in fact only one arrived, reflected magnificently in the evening light.

Even the lock had an industrial beauty that evening.

More interesting was the boat moored below the lock – another Piper barge that we had been communicating with for about a year, but never met, so we walked down the hill to say hello to El Perro Negro and crew.

They were waiting for a diver to return to fix a new impeller in their bow thruster, to replace the one damaged by something in the water – always a risk along the waterways.

After that pleasant interlude it was back to Calliope for supper and a stroll along the bank, before bed.

As we left next day the rain arrived as we descended the lock – quite a deep one at 7m.

Below the lock we passed El Perro Negro, waving and promising to meet up again soon, which in fact we did that evening, after a long days cruising for both boats.

We had a couple more 7m locks to go down before Charleroi – both happily with floating bollards and small bollards in the wall, spaced reasonably for a 20m boat if you get in the centre of the lock.

It was still felt quite ‘country’ as we came through those last two locks, with herons and other birds still in evidence.

We were ready for the industrial nature of Charleroi, rather run-down and abandoned, and found this graffiti really cheered it up.

Stewart has on his mind that Charleroi is a horrendous place to take a barge through. Certainly last year it was quite early on in our experience of Belgium’s big canals and massive barges. There are double right-angle blind bends moving from Canal Brussels-Charleroi Canal to La Sambre and it is right to proceed with caution.

The lock in Charleroi is right in the middle of current and redundant industry. Sounds of crashing metal ring out all around.

And one must be extra aware of commercial barges coming towards you as you leave this lock as you enter a length of waterway where you drive on the left – not the right! It’s a ‘blue boarding’ area if you are over 20m; with Calliope just under 20m we don’t have blue boards, but Captain said I should be ready with a large blue seat cushion, just in case.

It was now just one day away from additional crew joining us at Namur, so we made an emergency stop at Tamines where you can more up right next to a supermarket – although several feet below pavement level!

Just a few kilometres on and we could finally stop for the night at Auvelais. The pontoon here is quite a sweet place to stop, although there seemed to be more trains than last time we were here! Not long after El Perro Negro arrived, diving work on the bow thruster complete. Cause for a joint celebratory drink with them; just the right end to the day.

After the pleasant aperitif interlude, and after supper, I went for an exploratory walk looking for the local Intermarché. Although we had shopped earlier that day we had not managed to find fresh milk – often a problem in Wallonia. In climbed up and up towards a main road, suddenly finding myself in a lovely woodland war cemetery – far from what I had expected and very quiet and peaceful.

My walk back was on the opposite bank (don’t ask!) and I caught a different view of the mooring along with some old Auvelais riverside buildings.

Next morning we were off down to Namur to moor up and be ready for our guests arrival at the station. First things first – I went over to the village to get some fresh bread for our lunch – in the rain.

We set off quite early for us, now in the sun, and soon reached the first lock at Mornimont, where we were told we must wait for two more boats to join us. Oh well.

It turned out that one of the boats we were waiting for was El Perro Negro! They had phoned ahead to the lock before setting off and we then waited 40 minutes for them to catch us up. Could have stayed in bed!

We continued on down the Sambre, passing the striking abbey at Floreffe, particularly magnificent as we passed with this ‘biblical’ sky behind it.

Two hours later and we were moored up in Namur, on the Sambre, tied to railings and with a hanging wall for company.

The debarkation method was interesting, and tried out after lunch; it works.

Then we rested and waited until time to go to the station and meet new masked crew – our eldest two, Amanda and Ashley, who had travelled ‘coronavirus-safe’ all the way by Eurostar and Belgian rail to Namur.

It was so good to have them aboard – competent crew to be tested on our cruise down the Meuse.

They arrived a day after Belgium announced that masks must be worn in all public areas, including streets, and only taken off at home or when you sit down at a bar or restaurant – which we did several times over the next 30 hours.

We had a full day next day in Namur, and used it to cross the Sambre and explore the amazing citadel up above the other side. The ‘Searching for Utopia’ by Jan Fabre – it is a self portrait astride the turtle and a copy of the one we saw in Nieuweport last year.

The views from the citadel are amazing as I am sure you can imageine. Here are a few from the top.

The happy captain playing games – can you spot him?

We spent the second evening aboard Calliope, starting with a good selection of starters, which attracted a wasp that got trapped in Amanda’s hair – the brave Captain chased it off!

We were also joined by geese who guzzled up any spare bread we had on offer!

As the sun got lower in the sky there was the occasional swell in the water as big barges with friendly crew passed gently by.

An extra evening stroll found not only another bar to try, but also another marvellous sculpture by the river – a bronze sculpture, encrusted with ceramics, of the magical bay horse Bayard with the four sons of Aymon astride, seeming to jump over the river Meuse.

Stu’s designer eye was drawn to the new art/culture building on the banks of the Sambre, with its beautiful staircase.

Returning to Calliope we all enjoyed the changing skies as dusk drew in.

And so, having looked at the mighty Meuse from several angles, we were ready next day to move onto it and go down to Huy. (Pronounced in French: ‘Oi!’ felt right at home Mush)

In the morning Stu gently took Calliope down the final half kilometre of the Sambre, past buildings old and new …… (I do like that building a lot )

Upstream on the Dender and on to the Ath-Blaton Canal

6th to 22nd June 2020

This journey was both tranquil with at times a challenging edge, as you will discover! It was well worth the effort; there are several places I would stay at longer next time through.

The previous blog had us arriving on the Dender from the Boven-Zee-Scheldt and mooring up here just outside Dendermonde.

Dendermonde has been bypassed by the new canalised Dender, so we decided to walk down the old river, now closed off from the new part, and take a quick look at what has been an important town.

We walked into town on the open side, and back along the wooded side. It makes a very pleasant 3km walk, with young water fowl along the river at this time of year, screeching for more food!

Almost all the way along are huge bollards, spaced out for big commercial barges, evidence of the earlier importance of Dendermonde as a trading town.

Further evidence, if any is required, is seen when you arrive at the town. A huge lock is still in place, although no longer used.

The town square still shows some of its former grandeur, although much of it is rebuilt side the two world wars to look the same as before.

Back to the barge for the evening and wonderful calm after being moored on the centre of Gent for a few days! In fact a group of 4 teenagers arrived with chairs and drinks to sit on the pontoon for a couple of hours; they were very polite, saying hello and asking us to let them know if they were too noisy. We hardly knew they were there.

The mooring is only allowed for 24 hours, so despite it being so peaceful and pleasant we set off the next morning – but only after a good chat to one of the three fisherman who turned up on the pontoon before I was even out of bed. He spoke excellent English and knew some of the other British boats that have moored there.

The river from Dendermonde to Aalst is generally quiet, and mostly rural. However there is some industry, and at one point the factory had commemorated the Tour de France which had its Grand Départ in Brussels in 2019.

Sod’s Law struck again as the only boat we passed on our journey was an extra large one on the narrowest section of the river! But the ‘skipperess’ of the barge neatly steered her to starboard and we passed by unscathed.

As we approached the outskirts of Aalst we made contact with the bridge and lock keeper. There are a couple of bridges in the centre of Aalst that must be raised (or tilted) for boats to move through. The Zwartehoekbrug was the only one we needed to get through to reach our mooring and it was soon raised.

The interesting thing became what to tie up to ….. few bollards, no cleats, no rings ….. but a line of large blocks of concrete to stop cars tipping onto the canal, so the bow rope was strung round one of these. It worked; this large laden barge passing by tested it out!

We were soon off for a walk round the town. We had read that it was a great place to visit, and it’s true. Under normal non-coronavirus circumstances they have three huge carnivals a year – one all about men dressing up as women, though nothing to do with transvestism. The statue above captures the moment a man happily takes off his high heels!

My main memory will be a waffle moment! Crew persuaded the Captain that it would be nice to sit in the shade with a beer – or with a fully fruited sangria and fully fruited waffle!

We stayed on board for the evening and were surprised by visitors at around 8pm, who made a return visit next evening as well. I must admit the bread we fed them was rather good. (Please don’t tell me off for feeding them bread!)

Next day was rather wet. In amongst some unexciting events like shopping we did get another surprise visitor – this time a moorhen on the roof. They don’t fly much to my knowledge – only when they skitter across the water, so I was definitely surprised too see it there.

Our other main event was a Scrabble match. It was closely fought, but finally the Captain’s superior verbal skills led to his victory.

Then it was time to carry on up the Dender (without Sid James and Kenneth Williams). It was an obstacle course of a journey!

It was like this ….

  • Request and wait to go through the Aalst tilt bridge Sint-Annabrug
  • Through the narrow Aalst manually operated lock by the sugar factory
  • Under a lift bridge .. to find we had to …
  • … squeeze past two moored working barges which were pile-driving a new edge to the river
  • Round a bend to find another large working barge and crane lifting new sections for the pile-driver
  • Round another bend to see a low narrow bridge with several canoes full of children the other side
  • And then, out into the country until our next adventure!

Here is the pictorial adventure.

All was calm until we reached the next bridge and lock at Teralfene. First there was a bit of a wait; no problem. We are happy midstream.