Close encounters of a social kind

 One of the best parts about our faring adventures is the encounters we have with other people connected to the waterways. Our recent holiday was just a short two weeks and the distance we travelled barely amounted to 100 km, but we had the loveliest time and met some incredibly nice folk, which made our trip extra special.

At the end of my last post, we’d spent a night in the town of Deinze at the point where the Leie river is incorporated into a major commercial canal leading to Lille. Because of a yacht club event that was due to occupy the town quayside, we had to leave on Saturday morning, but instead of continuing onto the broad canal, we turned back and found ourselves a perfect place to pass the weekend. 

Our spot was an unofficial mooring but there were two perfectly placed wooden poles set into an equally perfect wooden siding. The bank was easily accessible and it offered us shade and great walks for Zoe. Even better, we had it all to ourselves.

A perfect, peaceful mooring

Good, easy walking along the cycle and towpath

The rainy view from our window

As it happened, it was a timely find because Saturday turned rainy, but once the skies had cleared in the afternoon, we received a visit from across the water. As the rain dripped down, I’d been watching a young man and a little boy busy working in the garden of the bankside house opposite our mooring. They’d been busy feeding a bonfire and doing other chores on their pontoon on which a bright red canoe was placed.

Imagine our surprise then, when a tap on the Hennie H’s hull alerted me and looking outside, I saw the red canoe alongside with father and son on board.

“Excuse me,” the young dad said. “My son has been asking me if he could come and see your boat. Would it be alright if he came on board to have a look?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, smiling down at the small, earnest face of the child. He looked so serious sitting in the canoe with his vivid orange lifejacket. 

They climbed up on deck, at which point Koos came out to chat to the dad, who introduced himself as Waldo, while I took young Aster inside. He sat himself on the sofa and proceeded to pat Zoe, who, quite conveniently, adores children. 

Aster told me he was five and would be six in December and that when he was grown up, he’d like to have a boat like ours. I was struck by this child’s awareness and maturity as he asked some really thoughtful questions. The two of them spent a good half hour on board telling us about their home and life before climbing down into their canoe and rowing back across the river. Meeting them was an unexpected pleasure and I think their visit will remain a special memory for both Koos and me.

Another pleasant encounter was with the bridge keeper downstream at Astene where we returned after the weekend. To backtrack, when we were in Deinze, we’d moored next to an old Dutch tjalk that was clearly fit for living aboard but didn't seem to be occupied. I’d noticed the name of the owner was Luc, but other than that thought no more of it except what a nice space this small tjalk had for accommodation.

The bridge keeper came over to chat while I was doing a little scraping and painting and told me he too had an old boat that needed painting. It quickly transpired he was the Luc of the tjalk in Deinze and I was fascinated to learn from him that his barge was a very early conversion. It was built in 1910 and converted to accommodate passengers in 1920, so it was hardly ever used for freight, which makes it quite a rarity. I wish I’d taken a photo of it now. Again, meeting Luc was a pleasure and I realised anew how we always seem to come across such warm, interesting people when we’re faring.

We are now back home and I can truthfully say we’ve had one of the most enjoyable and relaxed holidays since – well – last year’s trip through Belgium. From Astene, we meandered our way slowly back downstream, spending another three nights on the Leie and having some lovely rural walks before staying one more night in Gent and arriving back in Sas last Friday afternoon.

Now, it’s a matter of clearing up and sorting things out before going down to France again for a quick visit, but I'm always a little sad when we come to the end of our faring.

Till next time, here are a few more photos for those who haven’t already seen them (again in reverse order). Have a great week allemaal!

The Henni H fares forth again

So here we are in the latter part of September enjoying our first real faring of the year; I, for one, am revelling in it despite the changeable weather. 

There’s something very special about being on the waterways just out of the season. There’s still plenty of boat life and folk with small yachts or cruisers are still enjoying their watery playgrounds, but the frenetic sense of the rush of the holiday period is over. The kids are back at school and most people below retirement age are back at work.

The commercial activity, however, carries on regardless and for this I am especially grateful as we’d otherwise be going nowhere. Why? Well, most of the canals in Flanders, which is on our route to anywhere, have major restrictions in place for pleasure craft, on account of the drought. In fact, no locks on the smaller, non-commercial waterways are being serviced in Flanders during September until the 26th, the result being that we can only go through locks used by commercial barges, and even then, only when there is a barge that needs an opening, a factor that can result in long delays for the holiday or liveaboard boater.

Koos and I knew we had two weeks beginning last Sunday, the 14th. Other commitments dictated we couldn’t leave earlier or return later, so our disappointment in learning about the restrictions was keen as we’d planned to do a route we’ve tried to complete twice before and failed due again to water level issues or out-of-service locks. But shrugging off setbacks is something we’re used to so we revised our plan and decided to return to the much-loved Canal de Roubaix. 

That was until we learned that the lock we thought we could go through in the middle of Gent was closed on Monday, a mistake on my part for having a senior moment and thinking last Sunday was the 13th and not the 14th. We could have passed through it on Sunday had we got there before 6 p.m.. However, having confused the days and times and believing we could make the passage on Monday, we made our leisurely way to Gent in blissful ignorance, only to realise that evening we’d have to turn back and go all the way around the Ringvaart (Ring Canal), adding an extra 30 km, which is a day’s faring for us.

Another factor causing us to revise our plans again was the reason we had to be home by the 28th. Koos’s son had asked to come and visit us. What I hadn’t understood when the arrangement was made was that the visit should be at CC2 in France. As soon as the penny dropped, I gulped, threw up my hands and squealed ‘not possible’. To be in France on the date of our return from faring was a feat not for mere mortals like us. But then having had my hissy fit, I started thinking rationally and we realised we’d have to be back in our home port a couple of days earlier to make the plan work at all. So, we are staying much closer to home than originally intended but are still enjoying every moment.

The end result is that we spent four nights in Gent, but in two different places: the first being at our favourite place next to the Brusselsepoort lock we couldn’t go through; the second being at a marina on the south side of the city on the Leie river, which we reached via the Ringvaart.

Both were lovely and relaxing with great walks for Zoe and attractive urban environs, confirming yet again why and how I love Gent so much. From the marina, we simply crossed over the Ringvaart and carried on up the beautiful, winding Leie as far as Astene. Apart from the aesthetic beauty of this river, it has the advantage of carrying no commercial traffic until just before it joins the widened canalised section at Deinze. There are also no operating locks, so no stoppages or delays.

We wound our way through bends lined with rich, gracious and sometimes lavish homes, both classical and modern, all of which had velvet green lawns stretching down to the water’s edge. 

I was so impressed by these almost uniformly beautiful swards of emerald velvet I said to Koos, “When you buy a property here, you must have to sign a contract promising to shave your grass to within an inch of its life. Imagine the shame of having buttercups and weeds!”

Almost as I said it, there was a home with its grass looking slightly uneven and lumpy. “Oh dear,” Koos said, laughing. “They’ll be named and shamed for sure!” 

Anyway, we then spent a perfect and peaceful night at the delightful old Astene lock (which is not used as such anymore), with its pretty lifting bridge and its maritime museum/café, the creation of an old friend of Koos’s. The business has now been taken over by another friend whose design for his liveaboard barge was inspired by Koos’s Luxor. It was great to be there again, reconnect with old friends and catch up with news.

Yesterday turned unexpectedly hot as we made our way to Deinze where we were planning to spend another couple of nights. As it happens, the quay has been reserved for a yacht club event from today until Monday, so after sampling Deinze’s bustling life, we cast off this morning and returned downstream to tie up along the side of the river next to the towpath-cum-cycling track. 

Since it’s raining and likely to be stormy this afternoon, we’re quite happy to stay here for the day and then head back to Astene for a night before making our slow way home again. Perhaps there’ll be another couple of nights in Gent on the way to sample a different spot and maybe a meander into the Moervaart. Who knows? Much will depend on the weather in the coming days. In any event, this relaxed, take it-as-it-comes trip is actually perfect as we have no stress, and no worries about delays. I’m loving it!

To give you an idea of where we’ve been and what we’ve seen, here are a few photos. Unfortunately, they aren't in the right order, as the last one is the first, but I'll organise them and add more later when I've got WiFi and more electricity. For now, though, I’ll wish you all a great week ahead allemaal,  and fill you in on the rest of our trip next time.

Astene

Astene

The Leie mansions

The Leie mansions

Beginning of the Leie

Woods near the marina in Gent

The Leie marina in Gent

Zoe in her travelling kennel

Evergem lock

Choppy, windy waters

Gent side street

First mooring in Gent

The skipper

One of those bits and pieces times

It's one of those bits and pieces times. I feel a little disappointed that I can't write a post about anything other than the desultory doings of a DIYer. The thing is, the weather. It's been perfect for working outside, but as you all know, Vereeniging had her major makeover in June and since then it's been a matter of painting when the heat has permitted (barring month-long forays into France, of course). I'm blessed that I have a willing helper whose fondness for power tools is approaching those of her sister's (who would have imagined that?) and my own, so while the one Superdaughter is a tower (or power) of strength in France, the other Superdaughter helps me immeasurably on Vereeniging. I sometimes wonder what I did right to have two girls who prefer fixing stuff to shopping and makeup, but believe me, I count myself very blessed.

So the way things have gone is that most days have been taken up with various and sundry jobs on board.

Having spent a ludicrous amount of time wrestling the 'new' tarpaulin I've had since 2021 onto the hatches – (it's taken four years to replace the old one because I knew it would take said ludicrous amount of time) – we had to make a cut to allow the entrance hatch to be opened easily and without further wrestling. I confess I never got around to making such a cut with the old tarpaulin because of my fear of leaks (a fear founded on previous experience), but it was a factor that used to drive everyone but me mad. However, this time I think (for that, read pray) we've got it right. I won't bore you with the details, but I'm pretty pleased with the end result. Suffice to say, we have things nicely screwed down and the hatch opens like a dream!

Wielding the tool I prefer

As does my able assistant

Another job worth mentioning is the restoration of our skylights on the Hennie H. I think I mentioned them in my last post. They were in a pretty sorry state, but I've now scraped, sanded, stained and varnished them both, as well as replacing the protective moulding on the top of one of them and re-kitting the perspex windows. They're very old, so perfection is not the aim, but they look a lot better and the rot of ages has been arrested, at least.

But just in case you're now all DIY'd out, here's a photo that makes being where we are all worthwhile. There are those who ask me if I miss France when I return here. There are, of course, some aspects of our French village that I think of wistfully, but when I have the view below and the sights from Vereeniging that I see almost every day, I don't hanker for long. Life on the water still has a stronger hold on me than anything else and our sea canal here on the Belgian border has as much life and visual splendour as anything I could wish for.

Have a great weel allemaal, and I'll bring you some more news and views from the Flatlands soon.