Dendermonde to Gent (or Ghent): The almost end of the journey

The feeling of being close to the end of our journey was quite a powerful emotion when we got up on Saturday. It was August the 18th and I'd committed to being back on home turf by the 20th. I don't think either of us wanted to go home; we'd have liked to sneakily by-pass Gent and creep off up the canalised Schelde and into France again by the back door. But it wasn't to be and we had to return. We'd planned on leaving around 9:00 so as to run with the tide all the way and be there before it turned, but once we were up and outside, we saw other boats and barges steaming past us, so we thought maybe we should get a move on.

Letting a barge go past

Once we'd checked all moving and leaking parts and added to their life support systems, we untied and got underway. We turned round without even trying (the current did that for us) and off we went, thinking we were the last in the queue. How wrong we were. As we fared quietly along, not one, but two barges appeared behind us. They were also taking advantage of the current, but weren't going as fast as the barge that had snuck on us the evening before and given us quite a shock. We hadn't seen it coming at all and Koos had to dive out of the way to let it pass. We let these two pass as well, but in a calm and orderly fashion.

A ferry point I'd not noticed before

The incoming tide was slowing down the further upstream we went, so our advantage was not as much as it was when we went down to Dendermonde at the beginning of our trip. The river was more intimate and less wild too, but there were still mudbanks to be aware of and Koos hugged the outer bends out of caution. Being grounded on this tidal stretch wasn't something we wanted to even think of. The scenery looked different too, which is odd as we'd passed all these places before. I saw buildings and sights I'd never noticed on the way down. It just proves that the opposite direction is a new journey, and another point of view is a different perspective. It didn't matter anyway. I was already smitten by the Schelde.

Wetteren church from the water, another sight I missed first time round

I definitely didn't see this when we were going downstream!

Eventually, though, it had to end, and once we'd seen the split where the old, now no longer navigable, course of the river leads into Gent, we knew it was over. Within a kilometre, we saw the great Merelbeke lock. The trip from our overnight spot at Dendermonde had taken us three hours, so we were still well within the tidal window and to our amusement, we'd caught up with all the barges that had passed us at the mooring and those that had overtaken us. They were all waiting for the lock, which just happened to be opening as we arrived. As luck would have it.

This time there was no waiting and no damaged impeller to hold us up. Throughout our travels, we'd been pouring litres of water into the cooling system, but that was still our leaky oil cooler and we were used to it (we have a new one now...woohoo!); at least it was no longer overheating and throwing up black gunk (a good sign your impeller is bust, by the way). The upside of having Koos's amazing man-made (DIY in other parlance) expansion vessel on deck was that we were intimately acquainted with the cooling system's behaviour. I watched it like a worried nurse, taking its temperature, topping up its reservoir, you know...generally being paranoid. I'm good at that.

Anyway, back to the lock, we were out of it in double quick time. Shortly afterwards, we were on the canalised section of the Schelde that winds through the city from the forever closed Gentbrugge lock where the old tidal reach meets its end. Not far into this stretch, we had to stop and wait while the fire brigade chopped up and removed a tree that had fallen in the water – a fun five minutes of viewing while they conducted the surgery from an inflatable boat with a swimmer guiding the process. Once they'd got suitable ropes in place around the fallen bole of the tree, a crane on land lifted it out and we were able to continue. Thumbs up for the Gent fire services; they are men of many parts, it seems.

By this time we were being followed by the cruiser that left Dendermonde before us, and two other small craft, so we shared the Brusselsepoort lock with them. We've never had it so cosy there before, but luckily we all managed to squeeze in. A few minutes later, we were back at the pontoon mooring where we'd spent the very first night of our travels. We'd arrived and it was good to be there. The following day would be our last, so we planned to spend it exploring the area, but that's for one more blog post. For now, this, like Gent, feels like a good place to stop.

Have a great week, allemaal!

The Tidal Scheldt / Schelde

I left you last week at Grimbergen where we spent our last night on the Brussels to Antwerp Sea Canal. It seemed to us a good place to stop as well as we knew the next day we would need to be at the tidal or sea lock at Wintam before 3:30 in the afternoon. We'd calculated that low tide on the Schelde would be 4:30, and that we could start going upstream at slack tide, which we hoped would be around an hour before then. It seems funny to think of a sea lock so far inland, but the Schelde is a fast running, very winding and fairly narrow river so the water rushing in from the estuary gets squeezed tight the further inland it travels creating fast currents and huge differences between high and low water. I believe at the mouth of the Durme, which is where the Schelde narrows substantially, the rise/fall is around seven metres, which is quite something. As a result, there are sea locks at both Wintam and Dendermonde, which is around forty kilometres upstream of Antwerp.

Anyway, to get back to our travels, we left Grimbergen (or what we thought was Grimbergen) shortly after 10:00 the next morning. We wanted to take it easy and make sure we were through the lock in good time. As we fared towards the end of the canal, signs of industry were increasing again. After the lock at Zemst, there are only lifting bridges to worry about all the way to the end, so we started seeing much larger vessels and the kind of sea ships we pass on our own Gent–Terneuzen Canal.

Lifting bridge on the canal

A railway bridge opening for us

Wintam was a bit of a surprise when we finally arrived. The lock is at the end of a wide section of canal bordered not by industry but peaceful farmland. It was incredibly quiet and in the heat of the early afternoon, it seemed as if everything was asleep. As we approached the lock, Koos called the control tower on the VHF to ask if we could enter. A rather terse voice told him that if had eyes to see, he'd notice that the lock gates were closed. Well, we saw why a few seconds later when we were a bit closer. The doors had a huge white circle on them that we hadn't seen because of the angle of approach. Anyway, Mr Lockie told us we'd have to wait about twenty minutes, so we pulled over to the sidings. Unfortunately, there was nothing handy to tie up to; the only bollards were on top of the wall and set quite far back, which made it very difficult to throw a rope over them. In the end, and after several attempts from both of us, Koos succeeded, only to have to untie again almost immediately when the lock doors started opening. We'd taken up all the waiting time in our efforts to moor up. What a way to kill time!

Wintam sea lock is huge. Really. I've never seen anything like it. It is 250 metres long and 25 wide and we were the only ones in it. No wonder it took so long to prepare it! All that water just for us.

Wintam lock- and we were about half way along it
Spot the white circle on the doors

Leaving the lock. I still cannot get over how huge it is

As you can see from the photo above, we didn't drop all that far, but I suppose it was about two metres. When the lock is so big everything else is relative. Once we were out on the river, though, we realised the tide was not slack in the slightest and we would need to wait a while. The current was still running fast downstream, so any progress we might make towards our intended night stop at Dendermonde would be slow, tedious and very fuel inefficient, so we pottered along until we found a commercial pontoon where we could wait for the tide to turn.

Shipyard on the Schelde. Note the mudbanks and the end of the
slip rails. No going on or off the slipway at low water!

Just before 4 o'clock,  a dredger called Koos over the VHF and told him he would need to moor up where we were in about twenty minutes. Fair enough, we thought. We shouldn't really have been there anyway, so it was nice of him to warn us. Just after 4, we untied and started on our way upstream. The current was still flowing against us, but it had slowed noticeably and by the time we reached Temse, it had stopped. This was around 5 o'clock, so we'd miscalculated a bit, but it didn't matter. With the slack tide, we made better progress and it wasn't long before we had the current with us.

The Schelde is wide and untamed at Wintam

Approaching Temse

Temse at low tide

The turning to the Durme, the point where the difference between
high and low tide is at its greatest

As we wound our way along the river, I realised how impressive it is. The Schelde has an untamed rather mysterious beauty emphasised by its mudflats and many tiny inlets. You could imagine taking a small boat into them when the water is high and then staying there to sit on the mud when the tide runs out. The course is also meandering, so there are necessary buoys to ensure the commercial barges keep to the deeper channels. In places it is so shallow, the waders simply stand up and walk on the bottom. As for the bird life, it is quite different from the canalised rivers. There are few ducks and I didn't see any coots at all, but there were all manner of divers and waders, as well as flocks of seagulls. We might have been forty kilometres from the estuary, but we were still very much in touch with the sea.

Riverside moorings

One of many ferries across the river

I forget what time it was that we reached Dendermonde, but it was early evening as the light was turning gold. We'd passed several riverside marinas on the way. However, most of them were full, it having been such a beautiful day. We were therefore very glad to see two empty pontoons next to the bank just before the turning into the Dendermonde sea lock, the point at which we'd started our journey so many weeks ago. Koos turned so that we would be facing into the flow and we used four ropes to tie up. The current was running fast upstream by this time and we didn't want any nasty surprises.

Safe and sound at a mooring near Dendermonde

Commercials like this can create a big pull on the ropes

Another commercial speeding past and taking advantage of the upstream current

After making sure everything was really secure, we took a walk into town. Dendermonde was quite a surprise. I'm sure I've been there before, but it's much prettier and more typically Flemish than I remember. It has a lovely square and what used to be the river is now a closed canal that divides the city, complete with lifting bridges. Sadly, there is no way into it by boat as it is blocked off at both ends and must have been for years. Here is a website about the town's historic buildings. I was quite surprised by the number of judicial buildings, which would suggest it has some kind of legal importance, but so far, I haven't found anything particular to confirm that. I'm afraid I didn't manage any decent photos of Dendermonde because the light was bad and I didn't take my camera, but I did take one with my phone.

The approach to the main square in Dendermonde

By the time we got back to the Hennie Ha, it was almost completely dark. We sat on the back deck and watched the current flowing past us at a crazy speed. I don't think I've ever seen it racing as much anywhere. What a river!

Well I think that's enough for this week, don't you?  I'll leave the final two days for now (nothing like spinning out the story) and wish you all a marvellous week to come. Next time, I'll get us to Gent, I promise...Have a good one, allemaal!

A mini May meander on the waterways

In my last post, I was all excited that we were going to the boat lifts in Belgium, wasn't I? Well, that proved to be a no go. We set off on Sunday as planned but when we were half way there we learned from a skipper on one of the locks that a stretch we needed to go through would be closed until this week Tuesday, so that put an end to our plans for an uplifting experience (sorry).

As a result, and after dealing with my severe wobbly of disappointment, we turned off the Scheldt (Schelde here) onto one of our favourite stretches of water, the Canal de Roubaix and decided to spend a couple of days of relaxation at a mooring we haven't used before in Roubaix itself, a suburb of Lille. 

The canal starts as the Canal de L'Espierres on the Belgian side of the border and this was the first surprise. We have always loved this eight-kilometre stretch up to the French border because of the glorious, towering poplars that line the waterway. Well for the first few kilometres, we were revelling in seeing them again, but then suddenly, at the second lock, the scenery changed dramatically. The friendly (as always) lock keepers warned us we'd be seeing big changes and I can't honestly say this was a totally unexpected as I knew it was happening, but given we were in the same place only last August, it was still astonishing to see. To cut the story short, all the poplars are being felled and replaced by lime trees, and the first phase of the programme has been completed in just six months.

The first stretch of canal looks the same

Then came the surprise

The new look mooring: open and a little empty
but the trees will grow...

How the mooring at Leers looked last year

In fact, they've done an amazing job. The felling, clearing and replanting is complete along a stretch of about two kilometres. The towpaths have been resurfaced and everything is neat and tidy. But it looks open and empty compared with how it used to be. I suppose it didn't help that the weather was also cold, dreary, grey and misty, but we missed our glorious poplars. And did I just say it was cold? 

It will be many years before the lime trees reach a height that provides the lush shade and magnificent tunnel that their predecessors formed. Apparently, it was very necessary as the poplars had reached the end of their lives and were becoming dangerous. I do understand it, but yes, it was sad to see. Next year, another stretch will be done, and the year after, the final reach to the beginning of the canal. I took plenty of photos as I don't know when we will pass this way again.

All the same, it was good to moor up at Leers Nord again and cycle to the familiar village supermarket to fetch a few supplies. It's a wonderfully peaceful mooring and I am sure we will be back again in the future. It has that feeling of having arrived.

The next day (Tuesday), we travelled on under the care of the French canal authorities. The two cheerful novice lock assistants helped us through the system at something of a snail's pace. We couldn't help remarking at how last year, we'd had the A team and this year, we got the B team. That sounds unfair as they were lovely and very helpful and definitely working on their A status, but it seemed to take forever as they were both learning the ropes and spent a lot of time on the phone taking instructions. Unfortunately, as we drifted around waiting for one of the locks, a youth walking along the towpath with his mates decided it would be fun to throw stones at us, something we've never experienced before. I'm just glad they were quite small — the stones, not the boys.

Mooring in Roubaix

Anyway, eventually, we arrived at the moorings in Roubaix. The lock assistants helped us connect up to the electricity and then left us to it, promising to be back on Thursday when we wanted to make the return journey. Then the charming PR lady, Camille, from the canal administration dropped by to give us yet another folder of information about the canal (we already have two from the previous two years). She was accompanied by one of last year's A Team so we have to assume he's been promoted. It was great to find that he remembered us, another welcome we shall treasure.

After lots of laughter and convivial chat (well, more Koos than me as my French is limited to occasional interjections and an attempt to look comprehending and agréable, as one does), they departed, but with a warning not to leave anything outside that could be stolen. Roubaix is part of the greater Lille urban area and, like Rotterdam, carries the attendant problems (which we are used to) of petty crime – as we were soon to discover.

However, what we also discovered is that today's millenial petty thief has lost his edge and become what we quickly termed a Vulnerable Vandal....but perhaps I'll keep that story for next time. Suffice to say, it was très amusant.

Watch this space allemaal! To make up for a late post this week, I'll do two instead...or maybe even three!

Meandering along the Moervaart

Yesterday was a day for dreaming of faring to come. It was beautiful; the first really lovely weather of this year in my inexpert opinion. Not only was the temperature balmy and mild but the sun even had some warmth to it as it touched our faces.

"Let's go for a walk?" I suggested to Koos. "In fact let's go somewhere for a walk."
He agreed, always keen to go somewhere other, so we decided on a ramble along one of our favourite waterways, the Moervaart. It's not too far from the crumbly cottage and is a navigable route we love to take at the end of our summer trips these days; in other words, ideal for boosting our anticipation of faring away in the holidays.

So we hopped in the car and off we went...and went...and went.
"When are we going to get there?" I asked,
"Soon, I have a special spot in mind." said Koos
Twenty minutes later we were still driving.
"We must be nearly there," I complained. "We've been driving for ages!"
"Not far now," soothed Koos.
"Yes, but I'm hungry now. And I need the loo"
"Stop complaining. It'll be worth it."
 "But it's never taken us this long. I'm feeling queasy with all these bends. We'll be in Lokeren before you know it!" I was whining now, but it made me laugh too, reminding me of a funny cartoon I saw on the internet recently:

Well, the next signpost we saw was indeed heading to Lokeren, but back the way we'd come. We'd done some kind of circuitous route and overshot it by several kilometres. Maybe this is the right place to mention Lokeren is at the far end of the Moervaart. It doesn't go any further. Right.

So, after going back past the town and heading again towards home, Koos took yet another turning (nooooo!!! I squealed) and finally brought us to the bridge at Sinaai on the Moervaart he'd had in mind.

And it was good (it really was. And a relief too). We climbed out of the car, inspected the bridge, one of several lifting bridges on this waterway, and set off along the towpath in the direction of Lokeren. I have to say the walk was definitely worth the wait as I hope these photos will demonstrate. Within minutes, we were conjuring up images of pottering along the Moervaart in the Hennie Ha. And it resulted in our planning a long weekend of cruising from Sas van Gent to Lokeren, a distance of around 38 kilometres. I'm sure you'll agree this is going to be a trip worth taking and a wonderful start to our faring year.

That was yesterday, then. Today, it hasn't been half as nice, but with the fire of faring in our blood, we started cleaning the Hennie Ha in anticipation of our travels to come. Neither of us can wait for the day we 'maak lossen' the ropes and pull away out of our berth. And that was the great thing about this one day of sunshine we've had. It's set our wanderlust loose and got us going again. Roll on spring and more boating adventures.

Have a great week, allemaal!

The Last of the Magnificent Moorings

I've been sifting through my photos again to find more of our favourite moorings, and I think this is the final selection. We stayed at so many places, and most of them were great, but the ones I've shown you were special for a number of different reasons. Here are the last of my special favourites.

Douai halte nautique in the town

Douai: we've been there three times now and enjoyed each visit. Because the Hennie H is only fifteen metres, we can go right to the halte nautique in the town and from there it's a ten minute walk to the old centre with all its charm and history. The moorings have bollards on the wall, electricity (if you have the VNF key) and water too. We stayed there both going south and returning north. It's a great spot; there are always people to talk to; the city is close; it's peaceful at night and there's a big shopping centre just by the bridge going out of town.

Courcelles

This next spot is Courcelles, which was quite a discovery. It used to be run by the local mairie and had its own capitainerie, but when the mayor changed, interest in the marina dropped away. When we arrived, we were welcomed in, shown where the water, electricity and showers were and then told it was all free, bar the showers (50c a go). I don't know how long this will last, but it's a very nice place to relax and spend a few days. There is an E. Leclerc supermarket fifteen minutes walk from the harbour. Anyone going there would need to ask directions, but on a bike, it's even less than ten minutes, so easy for shopping.

Brébiere on the Scarpe

This photo is at Brebière on the Scarpe. I can't tell you how much I loved it there. There was nothing at all and we had to search for the bollards below the signs, but it was just too gorgeous. The scenery, the sunshine, just everything was lovely, especially the clarity of the water. One of those very special spots. 

The morning we left (for the second time), we decided to clean the mooring sign. It was so grubby. I also painted the bollard white so more people would see it.

Anywhere on the Canal de Saint Quentin will do

I'm cheating again with this one. It's the Hennie H on the Canal de Saint Quentin, and in principle, the whole of this canal is perfect for moorings. Again, there are no services, but if you are self sufficient, you can moor up in any of a large number of spots. We noticed they'd been doing a lot of work on moorings and on the banks with new rubber sidings along the waiting areas by the locks. We wondered why they were working so hard on it, but whatever the reason, it's great to see this canal is not being allowed to deteriorate. It is absolutely my favourite arterial waterway and I just love it. The locks are easy to operate (just as well - there a lot of them) and apart from the long tunnel, the entire 90 kilometre length of it from Cambrai to Chauny is a joy.

Séreaucourt le Grand on the Canal de Saint Quentin

This is a particularly idyllic mooring on the the Canal de Saint Quentin. Séreaucourt le Grand is in a side arm just a bit south of St Quentin itself. There's water, electricity and a shower if you can raise the harbour master. We couldn't until the next day but by then it was too late for us. There's a restaurant, a supermarket and several beautiful ponds next to the Somme river, which is here too. It runs close to the canal and even crosses beneath it a few kilometres from Séreaucourt before it branches off at St Simon. This is one of those places I could have stayed a while. It gave me a wonderfully restful feeling.

Chauny - free mooring, but there is a marina

Our place at Chauny above was not the most beautiful of moorings, but the town of Chauny was the biggest surprise of our trip. I was expecting a run down dreary place, but it was lovely: alive, bustling and colourful. There were flowers on every lamp post and the whole place had a vivid, vibrant feel that made you want to park up and stay there. For those who like more comfort, though, there is a marina with full services, so highly recommended as a stop over.

Pont L'Evêque 

Now here was another surprise. Pont L'Evêque, which is at the point where the Canal Latéral à L'Oise joins the Canal du Nord. The entrance to the harbour is through the bridge you can see in the photo above. It looks as if it is a no entry area, but that is misleading. There are moorings with electricity and water, which you pay for at a machine up the road in front of the post office. Pont L'Evêque is such a nice place and the harbour area is wonderful with pretty quayside houses and a working shipyard to keep the Koos and Vals of this world entertained. We loved it and spent two days there.

The Canal du Nord just outside Péronne

 Last but absolutely not least, was this mooring on the Canal du Nord just north of Péronne a hundred metres or so before the turning into the Canal de la Somme. This was another spot where we just tied up to some bollards on the canal side so we could stop for the night. The bollards were a bit far apart for us; they were designed for commercial barges, but we managed with a rope and anchor as a spring to stop us being pulled out too much by passing commercials. Why was it special then? It was so incredibly peaceful. Once the locks had closed for the night, there was simply nothing to disturb the quiet and as darkness descended, I even heard an owl in the woods. We went for the most wonderful walk and felt we had to whisper so as not to break the silence. Just magical.

So that's it. I've already given you the special mooring on the Canal de Roubaix and as I've said, nearly everywhere we stopped was great. We didn't have one mooring where we were bothered by anyone or unhappy, so it was hard to choose the favourites, but I think I have pinpointed the really special places now.

It's back to teaching for me this week and the weather is cooling down dramatically, so I hope you are all enjoying the early autumn weather. Have a good week allemaal. 

More magnificent moorings in northern France

As promised, here are some more of my favourite moorings in northern France with a bit of blurb about what makes them special. We had some idea of places we really wanted to stay, and oddly, these were not always the ones that appealed to us. For instance, we wanted to go to a place called La Bassée (not far from Bethune and Lille) after visiting it once by car, only to find that what we thought was a lovely quiet mooring was actually plagued by noise from the two bridges it lies between. As a result, although it was great to go there (which we did - twice), it wouldn't rate as one of my favourites.

So here again, in no particular order other than that in which reached them, are the ones we did like.

Halte Nautique Menen

These two photos are from Menen. It was a lovely mooring off the Leie river against a quay. We had electricity, but no water, although we learned the next morning that the power was not really for visitors, but they didn't seem to mind. I loved all the bird life on the water here!

The local community at Menen

This next photo  is from one of our absolute favourite spots in the Gare d'Eau at Bauvin, near the locks at Don on the Canal de la Deûle. It was just before the junction with the Canal d'Aire that heads towards Dunkirk. I don't know why no one else seems to use it, but it's been empty both times we've been there.

The Gare d'Eau at Bauvin

There are no services but it's really beautiful and we stayed overnight twice on this last trip. The mooring is easy with good bollards and you can get off straight onto the tow path. There are some lovely walks through the woods and along the canal as well. A very precious place.

Bethune town centre 

The first place we stopped after turning into the Canal d'Aire was La Bassée, mentioned above. It was good and convenient for the shops but doesn't rate as a favourite. However, after La Bassée we stayed a night at Bethune, which by contrast was a delightful surprise. This mooring is at the end of an old canal arm and you have to motor past several old péniches to reach the pontoon. There's water and electricity available if you have the VNF key, which you can also buy just along the road into town at the VNF office. Bethune itself is a lovely place and well worth a visit. Apart from the old belfry, it has been completely rebuilt since the war, but in the original style. It looks very authentic and I found it very attractive.

Mooring pontoon at Bethune

This next mooring is at another of my favourite places: Aire sur la Lys. It's at the end of the stretch called the Canal d'Aire (no prizes for guessing why) and is where La Lys, the river, crosses the canal. This halte nautique is on an off-shoot side arm, which may or may not have something to do with the river Lys. I wasn't too sure how that all fitted together, but it was off the main channel.

Halte Nautique at Aire sur la Lys

I don't honestly know why I liked it so much. There were no services, the pontoon creaked like crazy with every barge that passed on the main canal and the nearby grain processing plant hummed constantly. Maybe it was because the weather was so beautiful and Aire sur la Lys is such a lovely place, but I fell in love with it and would have happily stayed a while. One other plus for the mooring is there's a big shopping centre just a five minute bike ride from the pontoon with, joy of joys, a great DIY store. It's away from the centre, but not that much.

The Lys river in Aire sur la Lys

Here we are at Les Fontinettes or Arques (below) on the Canal de Neuffossé. It's the same canal as the Aire, really, but changes its name after La Lys crosses it. I'm cheating a bit here as it wasn't the mooring I liked as much as the old boat lifts that we could see from where we tied up. That said, there is electricity, but We didn't use it as we didn't have a key at this stage. Being there was one of the highlights of the trip for me!

Les Fontinettes: historic boat lifts, sadly out of use

Our mooring: spot the electricity box on the side

And the last special mooring for this week is this one on the same waterway. We stopped here on our return journey. It's the halte nautique at Garbecque, a name we had great fun with, especially as its neighbouring village was Berguette, which in turn was on the way to Isbergues. For those with associative minds, you can make a meal of this! 

Halte Nautique at Garbecque

 

That said, although the mooring was right on this busy route to Dunkirk and carries a lot of very large barge traffic, it was incredibly peaceful. There weren't any services at all, but it didn't matter (we never worry too much about that, anyway). What was special was the stillness. We couldn't hear a thing except the ducks and other water fowl, which as always, I loved. A memorable spot.

Wonderful evening light and tranquillity

That's enough for this week, I imagine. I don't want to bore you all to bits. Next week, I'll tell you about some more of our special places further south and why I liked them so much, but for now, enjoy the rest of the weekend allemaal and have a great week.