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!

Back to Gent, via Leuven

31st August to 16th September 2020

I have promised myself no more than 5 photos a day this time …. unless it is photos of a town or city that deserves more than five – so let’s get started. (Update; I didn’t quite manage this!)

The last post took us to Mechelen on the Dijle and on the Dijle-Leuven canal. We were on the canal and set off from Mechelen towards Leuven, stopping on the way at a quiet-out-of-the-way mooring next to Silos (very posh) restaurant.

It was a short journey, with only one minor event when one of the doors of a lock would not shut behind us. Luckily the guys were there working on the lock, and after changing a fuse (literally) all came back to life.

The restaurant being a bit expensive for our pocket we walked the kilometre back to the lock to find a bar, passing a roosting cormorant along the way. I liked the fact that our drinks were similar colours, though different size glasses (mine was pineau de charentes).

Back aboard we were treated to yet another ‘skies-on-fire’ Belgian sunset

Our peaceful mooring was only slightly disturbed in the morning by the passing of Marvik – just a gentle sway as she passed by.

After breakfast we were off on the last few kilometres to Leuven – just 15 and 1 lock. Just outside Leuven we passed the old Remy tower, with its newer, but still old, one behind. This is not a testament to cognac but to grain. We had been warned, by Flanders waterways, that we might pass the trials of a model commercial barge – and we did!

Then into Leuven, past the new Stella Artois brewery – photos of the old brewery to come!

Having allowed myself extra photos when in an interesting city, I feel I can add in a few here. Day 1 in Leuven easily used up our 10,000 steps per day. The centre of town was very busy with students arriving for university, queuing up to register, meeting friends and cyclin around finding their accommodation. But we found some quite corners too.

The botanical garden, Kruidtuin, was especially peaceful and beautiful.

On the way back to the boat we found, first, a relatively quiet bar, and secondly an Indian restaurant – not exactly Belgian, but very good. Then back to our mooring in the basin at the end of the canal, with the old Stella Artois brewery being dismantled astern of us.

Stella Artois is inextricably linked to Leuven, after a Mr Artois, head brewer at the Den Hoorne brewery, bought the brewery, changed the name to Artois, and grew from then on to the mega global business that it is today. I visited the brewery shown in these photos back in 1987, and remember well the gate posts topped by the lanterns that became part of the Stella image; all now rather dusty and sad. But the beer tastes good!

Day 2 in Leuven we walked up the wooded hill above the harbour, and then on through the city to the groot (big) beguinhof. For those new to the word beguinhof, they are areas which were created to house beguines – lay religious women who lived in their own community without taking vows or retiring from the world, and often offering shelter to single women and their children who needed safe shelter from the world.

In a way similar to Oxford, Leuven is a University city full of separate colleges, each with their own fabulous old buildings and gateways. I could have filled a blog just with these, but chose instead on building, one gate-way, and students thronging the streets, all correctly wearing their anti-coronavirus masks.

Our beverage intake that evening was in four stages. First we found a bar that I had discovered sold my favourite Kriek beer – aged old red by Petrus. Then we sat beneath the old Stella brewery partaking of the famous brew. Back on board, quietly preparing our evening meal. we were visited by a waitress for the Florida bar that we were moored against. She brought us complementary cocktails and a dish of grilled green mini-peppers! This was a total surprise, so stage four was to go ashore and join the owner of the bar and his friends for a round or two more! I slept well that night.

Next day we left Leuven, but I would happily return and certainly recommend it to visitors, whether by boat or other means. Out we went past the massive new brewery, through misty locks, and on to the zoo. Yes, there is a zoo outside Mechelen and there is a pleasant quiet mooring nearby. If there is anything to unsettle the calm it might be a passing big boat, so the Captain watched carefully as the first one arrived – but virtually no disturbance at all.

The tides were right for us to leave the Leuven-Dijle canal within the next few days so we set off towards the northern end of the canal, stopping for a short visit back to Mechelen as we passed through. Being beginhof and brewery fans we managed to see both – the brewery being the one that brewed the special bottle Stu bought last time we were in town, and the beginhof being what was left of quite a small one. Lunch was a light-bite treat, my hummus on toast looking like a work of art and very ‘leaker’ (tasty).

As a souvenir I bought myself a Mechelen mask – such are these strange times. Then off down, or was it up, the canal we went.

We went to the end of the canal and moored up just before Zennegat lock. What a change; when we came through here on the other direction a week before it was misty, rainy, and generally gloomy. This time we could enjoy the landscape.

Zennegat is where the rivers Dijle and Zenne meet, with the canal beginning right between them at the confluence, with a nature park right alongside as well.

Here is an aerial view (not my photo) showing the Zenne above, canal central and the edge of the Dijle on the right.

The view across to Calliope on my evening promenade

We had a definite plan to just have one night at Zennegat, but two things conspired to change our mind. One was the pure delight of being there. The other, more important, was hearing out of the blue from friends on a Piper boat who we had not seen for almost 6 years when they set off across the Channel and we were going round the Kent coast for our winter in Portsmouth Harbour. Gerald and Janet were arriving at the next day to begin their own cruise down to Leuven.

And arrive they did, mooring up in front us on their new Piper boat Affinity (their third!) – causing us to look a little on the scruffy side!

Our second day at Zennegat was a lovely mixture of time with Affinity crew, and time walking next to all the nature. Leaving their boat, perfectly sober, the wind caught our map and into the canal it fell, quickly followed by the Captain’s reading glasses. The former was recovered and dried; the latter were not.

At 11.45 we slipped our ropes and left our mooring in calm clear waters and skies.

The first obstacle is a pedestrian/cyclists bridge that opens in quite an unusual fashion – very slowly too.

Then into the last of our double-oval locks, this time with a slidey pole for the rope.

We dropped down two or three metres – obviously a variable depth because we were off out onto a tidal river, with the last hour or so of outgoing tide.

And there we were, set loose on the river current.

Well I’m sorry, but the days on the rivers had too much going on for the five photo restriction; I really tried, but you would have missed too much. So here goes..

First we were on the Dijle, but not for long. We soon joined the Rupel, and before long we began to see navigation lights atop tall poles, hinting at the changing tide depth and mudbanks each side.

A further 12 kilometres and we were joining the Zeeschelde, hopefully as the tide started to turn and carry us up towards Ghent.

Initially it seems quite a hard push, and although Calliope’s engine was more than a match for the waters we made relatively slow progress.

Then, as slack water time arrived, we moved faster up this broad river. It was a Sunday so little commercial traffic around – just buoys to mark our channel and ….

…. a few Sunday leisure craft leaving his well in their wake.

We had set off at 1145, expecting to be at our Dender turn-off by around 1600, and knowing that the locks stopped operating at 1800 on a Sunday. So we were very pleased to see this gloomy but welcoming sight – Dendermonde lock – at about 1730. In, up and out, all within about 15 minutes.

We were back on the gentle Dender, where amazingly, and truly, 20 minutes after leaving the lock the sun had come out. There was an initial disappointment – we found the pontoon occupied, but the timber piles just beyond were ready and waiting for us and actually became our preferred place to tie up

Monday was a lovely autumn day. We walked down the old Dender into Dendermonde and found it was market day. In addition to buying one or two essentials we bought yummy hot dogs and sat down by the river to eat them listening to the carillon from the local church.

The evening with Calliope was so peaceful, only ‘disturbed’ by a laden barge gliding by, scarcely ruffling the water as she passed.

Calliope enters the lock cut

We were up and at it earlier than usual the following morning; I had asked the Dendermonde lock keeper the best time to leave and catch the tide up to Ghent, and this meant casting off at 7.45 – when I am normally in bed drinking tea, or asleep!

We were quickly through the lock – at high tide a drop of only 1m – and about to join the Zeeschelde.

It was a mucky start! The water running off the rising guillotine style lock door was full of mud! We were totally splattered!

I did manage to get it quite a bit cleaner as we went along, but closer inspection led to plenty more work once we were in Gent!

It took less than 2 hours to reach Merelbeke lock, whizzing along at up to 14 kph at times and almost twice our normal cruising speed. The voyage was fine though – we passed interesting looking small towns, a few commercial craft from large barges to small ferries, and plenty of countryside. If you get the tides right there is nothing to fear from this trip.

We continued round the Ring Vaart – the waterway ‘ring road’ of Ghent – until we reached the much smaller Brugse Vaart where we had decided to turn off and head into the city – only to discover our progress suddenly arrested by an unmarked mud bank caused, as we found out later, by the wash from the large commercial vessels powering round the corners to Brugge and Ghent Seaport. It wasn’t a big issue though, as the bow wave from the first commercial gave us enough lift to reverse off the bank and back into free water.

This was a new route for us into the city and we looked forward to some new sights. There were plenty of good places for houseboats to moor, many of them old working boats.

One of these was the ….. bridge – an interesting road bridge on a central turn table, with a fixed pedestrian bridge above. Sadly the light was all wrong to get a good photo of this but I hope you get the gist.

Then we came to Tollhuissluis – a lock that was due to close a few days later but we sneaked through beforehand. It’s the first time I have been in a lock with a tram running alongside I think (yes it is there through the trees). And the bollards were set at a deliberate angle that I have not seen before either.

The final approach was through some lovely old docks and a right hand turn down a pretty short canal into Portus Ganda…..

…. and our mooring on Roodtorenkaai.

We stayed for a week in Ghent, getting to know the city much better, partly thanks to our friend Mieke who lives (with husband Frans) on boat their Dreamer in Ghent and is herself and is an official city guide!

So here are just a few images from our stay.

We walked round the city a lot. I have taken so many photos of Ghent on previous visits that these are an odd jumble of images, including one at the Friday Market.

We had a few beers, and a pizza!

We had visitors who, charmingly, arrived by boat and brought their lovely dog Google.

We went to the Open Monument Day at the Abbey St Bavo.

We got more of the Zeeschelde mud off the boat.

We had coffee and Coke.

And we went to watch our friend Bart play in, and ultimately win, a boule tournament.

The mooring was lovely, morning, noon and night and we had glorious weather!

Then woke to a misty morning for our day of departure!

But the sun soon cleared and we were underway with a lovely send-off and a final glance back at the past week’s mooring.

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.

Then once in the lock, the lock-keeper asked us if we would wait half an hour for another boat to arrive so that he could save water; of course we said yes and had lunch in the bottom of a lock – not for the first time.

We continued on with the other boat, a cruiser with pleasant crew. They let us know that one of the bridges on Geraardsberge, just upstream, was closing at the end of the day for 5-6 days! It has to be said that I should have known. I receive all the emails about closures every day, but this one slipped past my (non)eagle eye.

It was either make a dash for Geraardsberge that day (no thank you) or remain downstream for almost a week.

We were following the path highlighted green on the map. Pink indicates a lot of what we did on 2019.

A plan was hatched and we drew in at Okegem, on a sloping wall and very low mooring cleats. The Captain made us safe with re-corded fenders!

As usual we went for a walk, initially around our side of the river in Pamel. Right next to our mooring was a sculpture of Victor de Klerk. He was an unfortunately fat man, around 55 stone, and possibly the heaviest man in Europe during his life in the mid 19th century. His is not a happy story.

Later I went over the bridge to look at the village of Okegem, after a tasty prawn pasta supper.

Skies became blue and the scene changed, becoming beautiful and tranquil. We sat on the back deck until sunset, revelling in the places our Piper has brought us ….

…. and enjoying Stewart’s shadow art!

Although we liked to at Okegem we decided to carry on to Ninove – at least a 4km cruising day! Calliope moved from a pink sunset to a pink bridge, welcoming us into Ninove.

The mooring we had expected to use was occupied so we went astern for a hundred yards or so and came into moor on a good long floating pontoon next to a footbridge laden with petunias; what a beautiful scent.

It was clear that we would be here a few days, so I will not repeat days of shopping in the local Del Haize supermarket! We did attempt to get an idea of the town, including the Graan Markt, where a big building was in the process of being pulled down by a monster munching machine!

Later that day Captain Stu did his good waterways deed of the day, hauling out a huge long wooden log/pole that was floating downstream ready to cause damage to someone or something.

I did go for an evening stroll on the first evening juts as the sky was clearing for sunset. The clarity across the town was superb.

Day 2 we were settling in. We went for a walk up to the next mooring along the river, next to an old rail bridge, to see if it was worth moving along a few kilometres, but the pontoon was filling up as we arrived.

On the way back, dodging the rapid cyclists sharing our path, I noticed the giant colourful ‘cotton reels’ across the river. Not sure what they are, but a colourful display nonetheless.

Early that evening we had a couple more items to buy at the shops, and that morphed into a couple of cold beers (and Sangria) at a local bar, segueing into one more drink and a good burger and frites at an other hostelry – a good time was had by all!

Back to the boat. It certainly is no hardship being here.

Over the days we got to know Ninove a little better, seeking out the remaining older parts of the town amongst the new. Two of the city gates still remain, appearing suddenly along otherwise relatively modern streets! Koeport seems to mean Cow Gate, but I suspect that is wrong. There is a story attached to it – when the town of Aalst, just down river, laid siege to Ninove they were desperate to lock the gate but could mot find the key, so a carrot was used to bolt it shut. A passing donkey ate the carrot, unlocking the gate for the invaders, and ever since the people of Ninove have been known as Wortels – Flemish for carrot.

We also went to the abbey, all that is left of what was a big monastic community. It is huge! Even the size and style of the confessional box is awesome. Outside some archeological work has begin to find the remains of some of the previous buildings.

We were entertained by the young waterfowl as always. The high call of adolescent moorhen, coots, grebes and ducks were all around. The adult moorhens were much bolder than I am used to in UK and happily stalked about on the pontoon beside the boat.

My walks often took me along the river bank and up to the next lock, just over a kilometre away. The locally typical weir mechanism, with its pulleys and chains, was a sight to behold!

We used some of our time for more maintenance and cleaning. Stewart got to grips with some painting whilst I cleaned metal and we both had a real go at all the glass!

I am realising that we are rather good at rewarding our efforts with a refreshing drink – this time at the swimming pool café just across the park. I have rather fallen for the Sangria, a 14% concoction full of fruit so that I can make believe it is healthy.

Dreamer behind Calliope

Two days before we were due to leave we were joined on the pontoon by an even bigger barge than us! Dreamer belongs to Frans and Meike, the latter being a WOB member, so automatically an immediate friend.

the second pot of mussels

After inviting them aboard for a few drinks on the first night we received an invitation back that could not be refused! We are asked to a supper of fresh mussels! We supplied the frites from an excellent local frituur and a red berry gateau from a local bakeri. They supplied and cooked huge pots of delicious fresh large mussels!

Later Meike and I went to see a street theatre / circus performance behind the town hall – all perfectly socially distanced. It was very entertaining in a typically French way, full of mime, acrobatics and comedy.

Throughout our stay we have enjoyed the changing view of the foot bridge before us. The shape of it lends itself to interesting photos against some lovely skies.

Bye bye Mieke and Frans

Finally we got the email to say that the bridge was now open and that next day we could move on upstream towards our next destination – so earlyish to bed, ready for our next voyage, and waving goodbye to new friends as we left.

Soon after we left Ninove we caught up with Piper boat Tadham Castle waiting for us at the first lock. We had a pleasant morning following them through a series of locks and bridges.

We were out in the country at last, with views across farm land, woodland, and left over parts of grand estates.

Waiting for bridge opening in Geraardsbergen

There was a bit of a delay while the lock/bridge keeper moved at his own pace from bridge, to bridge, to lock. Each had to be opened and allow us all through – and we had by now tagged onto a cruiser at the front as well. Finally we all arrived at Geraardsbergen, with its now famous newly opened bridge, just visible in the distance while we three boats wait for it to be raised.

This all took a while, and once we got to the final lock there was of course only room for the first two boats. Calliope was left below the lock, tied up, and allowing time for lunch.

The lock, when it opened for us, was in about the worst condition I have ever seen a lock before. The quays were topped with flaking plywood and the only things too attach to were plastic covered chains part way down the walls! Ah well, it all worked, and they seem well on the way to building a new one along side.

Soon we were cruising into our mooring place, the last space at the Geraardsbergen marina. I was glad I had phoned ahead and booked! We moored just ahead of Tadham Castle; this was fortuitous as they were able to lend us a hose to attach to two of our hoses, to stretch the 50 m. from the water tap to our tank!

Geraardsbergen is spread across two hills, either side of the Dender. A lot of walking up and down slopes is required! We had a couple of nights there, allowing Stewart and I time to sample several beers in the main square.

We also sampled the local ‘delicacy’, Mattertaarte, a sweet pastry, much lighter than it looks in the photo, with an interior of almond flavoured curd cheese – a sort of Bakewell tart without the jam. Our one meal out was far more global – Chinese.

As with many of the Belgian towns and cities we visit there are lots of wonderful old buildings. In Geraardsbergen there is also the original (apparently) Mannekin Pis, complete with a coronavirus mask.

(This is a completely random paragraph, thrown in so that I can show you our little-giant green grasshopper visitor who flew into in the wheelhouse in Geraardsbergen)

We had lovely weather while there, causing us to walk a mile or so to a Brico in the hope of buying a new parasol – our third attempt this year – but to no avail. You will continue to see us sitting in the sun.

one of the two large barges entering a lock ahead of us

When we left Geraardsbergen and arrived at the first lock we discovered that this time we were in a convoy of four boats …….

… two of which were massive barges, slightly unwieldy in these rather narrow waters and locks.

The lock keeper team who were travelling with put all four of us separately through each lock and lift bridge before continuing to the next one. We were the last of the four, consequently frequently in a queue!

Queuing became our new normal for the day!

The passage through Lessines was industrially interesting …. and we left one of the big barges there, shrinking our convoy to three.

Lessines looked an interesting place altogether and it was a shame not to stop their ourselves, but we were on catch-up from our enforced long stay in Ninove.

The éclusier team changed here, carrying us forward with some new faces. It sort of reminded me of days gone by when the team of horses pulling the barge would be changed; rest for horse and man etc. (You may not know that song – look it up – “Home Lads Home” – beautiful and sad, and nothing to do with barges!)

Rebaix

Calliope cast off from the convoy at Rebaix – a very pretty tranquil country mooring.

This was our peace and quiet at the end of a hectic day!

I went for a walk up into the village, then down to join the river further along, collecting photos as I went, before walking back to a perfect evening.

Forgive me for occasionally sharing my love of the nature we see along the way. At this time of year there are so many young birds own the water – moorhen, coot, grebe, goose, and of course duck – all with their own particular cuteness. At this mooring we also saw, but did not photograph, kingfishers and hares – the latter in a field, not the water!

The morning at Rebaix dawned as bright as the evening before.We had explained the the éclusiers that we planned to carry on to Ladeuze the next morning. This was apparently a little difficult to organise because of so much other boat movement along the river and its continuation, the Ath-Blaton canal.

But something was sorted, and they arrived next morning planning to get us to Ladeuze if possible. (Those’ thank-you’ cans of beer the previous day had been worth it).

Waiting for a new team at Ath

They got us as far as Ath – 3 kilometres – before having to abandon us outside a lock. We were told that another team would arrive in 20-30 minutes, so we settled down for an hours wait.

It is here that the waterway changes from the Dender river to the Ath-Blaton canal.

The next team, two young men, polite but slow, arrived and we set off through Ath with its lift bridges and six locks – all manually operated.

We were not clear of the city when it was their lunch time, so we were left at the bottom of a lock for a almost two hours; quite a pleasant place to be on a warm day and we had our lunch to eat too.

Our ‘likely lads’ returned and we carried on with our slow progress unit suddenly, at a lock, we were surrounded by additional éclusiers. By the time we were through the lock we realised that the team had changed yet again!

I flattered this team, talking them they were the meilleur équipe (best team) and they looked after us well up to Ladeuze. A few cans of beer was their reward.

The mooring at Ladeuze is lovely – a grassy bank with a few trees and picnic tables, plus everything a boat could need – secure mooring, water, electricity and a shower block – although all but the first were unavailable, whether due to coronavirus or other issues I dont know.

The other ‘institution’ of Ladeuze is Chez Gina. This local bar that has been run by Gina for other 60 years – she is now in her 90s and still to be seen sitting in the bar every day, although she has younger help to serve the customers. The bar is a museum piece, and the prices are almost as historic! It was the cheapest glass of Kriek I have had anywhere.

I took my usual walk, this time around sunset, along the canal then back through the fields; wonderful.

‘Breezey’ in our wake

In the morning the ‘likely lads’ returned, almost on time, and, along with the cruiser ‘Breezey’, we travelled to Grandglise. The first part of the day was still in the ascendence ….

…. but then at lock 11 we started our descent towards Blaton.

It was altogether a scenic route, starting with a lovely old lock house – how wonderful to have the opportunity to live in this!

Stu extracts a bike from the bike shed

At Grandglise, between locks 8 and 7, we said goodbye to ‘Breezey’ and crew and moored up for our last night on the Ath-Blaton. I chose to cycle the two and a half kilometres to an Intermarche for extra supplies – a more exhausting trip than anticipated. Must be my age! Or the weight of the beer, wine and mixers!

Despite this I went for my usual promenade around the area. Always interesting, but this time the only photogenic character was this cow, who was in a field at a level above my head!

After a quiet last evening on the canal, providing Captain with a chance to improve the cording to the red ensign, we settled down to a peaceful night.

yellow flower canal side mix

It was a good final day on the Ath-Blaton Canal. In fact it was a half day with just 7 locks within 2 kilometres, a couple of capable guys working with us, and a boat coming up, meaning that half the locks were ready for us.

I enjoyed the lock wall flowers, which get submerged each time the lock is full, and emerge, dripping, as the water empties out again.

At one lock I was concerned to watch a mother duck and three ducklings swim into the lock ahead of us! I made sure we did not crush them against the side, then looked on as the mother climbed out and called to her dizzy babies to follow. Eventually they did. But that was not the end of the story. Our éclusier noticed that a fourth duckling was now alone in the canal stream above the lock, and in a gentle way he herded the mother and three siblings back along the bank to find and join the prodigal son; lovely!

At lock 4 we had been told that we could take on water – and when we arrived it looked as if the lock itself had taken own more water than it could cope with! The lock was overflowing, with the mooring bollards surrounded by water.

Nonetheless we got tied up. Before we could deploy our hose we found an éclusier running a hose out from their shed, all ready for us to fill up as we went down. Somehow it worked, although I felt that ropes and hoses and water were everywhere in a tangle.

Just three easy locks to descend, and we were at Blaton – the end of the canal.

Blaton

We got a glimpse of the town from the old basin as we turned towards the Nimy-Blaton-Peronnes canal, one of the main arteries through Belgium, and the start of the next chapter.

Pont des Lilas – gateway to the Nimy-Blaton-Peronnes Canal

Winding our way to our winter mooring

27 September – 10 October 2019

We were taking the long autumnal way round. We had left Kortrijk in late August and set off on a loop of northern Belgium and France, in order to arrive back where we started and tie up for the winter.

Now we were on the last lap, crossing borders, changing waterways, and soaking up the last of the sun, or getting soaked, depending on the weather.

If you are crossing into France between Veurne and Dunkirk you have to phone 2 days ahead and plan to meet a VNF person at the Ghyvelde bridge where your papers will be checked before the bridge is opened and you are allowed to pass into France. We had all this sorted and set off from our mooring in Veurne in plenty of time – until we wound round the first bend, saw another (low) bridge, and had to phone to ask for this to be lifted !too

waiting in Veurne for the Ieper bridgeto open

Unfortunately there was a problem with another bridge in the vicinity so we had to wait – just half an hour – for the lock-keeper-cum-bridge-lifter to appear. That put a little pressure on our run to the Belgian border, but all was fine.

The bridge, interestingly (to me) was not a lift bridge at all. It was a swing or turntable bridge, swinging round so that it was parallel to the canal, on the right on this photo.