(Mostly) Short and Sweet

We’re now into our 5^th day of cruising on the Petite Saone River, and are spending it as a “rest day” in the village of Ray-sur-Saone. "Rest" is a bit of a misnomer, as it’s not as though our schedule has been grueling. In fact, we are making a conscientious effort not to over-do the number of hours we cruise on any particular day. Our immediate, short-term cruising goal is to be in the town of Corre—the furthest point of navigation on the Petite Saone River, and the start of the Canal de Vosges—by no later than June 2. Lon’s cousin Frank arrives in France from Canada on June 3 and will take a train to Epinal. We had originally hoped to cruise on CARIB to Epinal in time to meet him there, but our departure delay caused by Lon’s fall means that we will rent a car in Corre and drive to Epinal instead. In constructing a cruising itinerary to fit this short-term goal, our general outlook is that we’re not in a hurry, and if we arrive at a day’s cruising destination no later than early afternoon, we’ll be well-rested and easily able to spend time investigating where we’re at. Of course, reality can sometimes collide with the “ideal”, and so adjustments must be made. One of the biggest “reality checks” is the location and suitability of mooring spots.

We’ve found that finding appropriate mooring spots on rivers can be more challenging than finding a place to stop on canals. At least on a canal we have the option of pulling over to the side of the channel and driving stakes to hold our lines if we are unable to find a mooring quay or pontoon. Rivers with too much vegetation on their banks and unpredictable water depths remove that as an option. In a pinch we could perhaps find an off-channel pond in which to drop anchor, but that’s more effort than I care to contemplate. We’ve been on the lower 2/3 of the Petite Saone before—in 2021 we had to turn around just north of our current mooring when the Canal de Vosges developed a leak—and are looking to mix things up a bit in terms of our daily stops. This means that we are on the lookout for moorings that: (1) can accommodate a 21-meter barge (2) are in towns that we haven’t been in before and are interested in exploring and/or have shopping options (as groceries can be a challenge), and (3) that are not-too-distant from the previous mooring location.

If we had a smaller boat it would definitely be easier to find mooring
spots. Many of the haltes and ports are designed for boats that are
less than 12-15 meters long, such as this halte in Arc-les-Gray.

Friday, May 23, was a beautiful—if somewhat cool—day for our 3-hour cruise from Pontailler-sur-Saone to the village of Mantoche, a few kilometers south of the much larger town of Gray. When we cruised past Mantoche in 2021 on our way to moor in the town of Gray, we’d noted the quality of the quay and loved the location by the town’s chateau.

On the way to Mantoche we passed the junction of the Petite Saone with the 
Canal entre Champagne et Bourgogne.

Our approach to Mantoche. Although there were two boats on the town quay, they were
far enough apart that we would be able to slip between them. So far, so good. What we weren't entirely sure about going in was the depth of the water. Most reports we'd seen said that the depth was one
meter at the downstream end (and less upstream). As our water draft is 1.1 meters, we were a bit
nervous about possible grounding. Happily, our concerns did not come to fruition.

Panorama of the Chateau de Mantoche, as seen from the park fronting the boat docking
area. The current chateau is primarily an 18th century restoration and enlargement of an
older fortified castle that was destroyed in the early 17th century.

The 12th century church that originally sat on this site is no
more, having been rebuilt in the early 18th century.

The town was rather quiet on that Friday night, but we were able to take advantage of dinner out at what appeared to be the sole restaurant in the town. Very friendly owners. "The Capitainerie" also doubled as a small--very small--grocery store. 

Our cruise on Saturday, May 24, was even shorter. We decided not to stop in Gray this year, having stopped there twice in 2021, and as we didn't yet need to restock the larder, we continued on a few more kilometers to the village of Rigny. Our cruising time was a grand total of 2 hours. 

Putting Gray "in our rearview mirror", so to speak. We enjoyed
touring the town a few years ago, but didn't expect it had changed
in any substantial way to make another visit necessary.

 

Are the residents having trouble with English-speaking boaters
trying to stop where they're not supposed to? We saw a few
signs like this--using the English word "boat" rather
than the French word "bateau'"--on one stretch of the waterway.

Our mooring on a diversion canal on the outskirts of Rigny. The
concrete quay was a bit longer than the reported 15-meter length, 
and it worked well enough for an overnight stop. Until we were nearly
abreast of the quay we weren't sure that it had been mowed.
Thankfully, we didn't have to put our newly purchased scythe to work.

The Rigny of today is a small, quiet, non-descript little village. Its history seems to have been one of centuries of being caught in the middle of disputes between one political faction or another. So, nothing especially out of the ordinary in the experience of French villages!

The church of Saint-Etienne in Rigny. The 18th C high
altarpiece is listed as a Historic Monument. 

Left: roses and old buildings are a potent esthetic combination.
Right: Many of the village WWI war memorials in this part of
France are topped by the "Gallic Rooster," a national
symbol of France. Its origin goes back to the Middle Ages, a play
on words between the Latin word "gallus", meaning an inhabitant
of Gaul--but also meaning "rooster". 

The main "claim to fame" of Rigny these days, at least according to the cruising guide, is the gourmet meals served in the Chateau de Rigny, which is now a B&B.

Upper: part of the Chateau de Rigny complex
Lower: the new bridge (since 2010) to Rigny that crosses
 the Saone. A previous metal bridge was badly damaged
 in WWII, and wooden repairs collapsed under a herd
 of cows in the 1950's. 

May 25--cruising day 4-- is where our "short day" aspirations broke down, due to entering a sort of "desert" with respect to mooring options for barges. The cruising itself was nice--after early rain the sun came out. As has been true since we left Auxonne, the route has us alternating between stretches of the actual river and "diversion canals" which bypass portions of the river and shorten the travel.

Lower: A "porte de guard" on one of the diversion canals.
 The downstream ends of the diversion canals typically
 have a lock, and the upstream ends a "guard gate,"
 the doors of which get closed in the event of flooding.
Upper: unusually, the diversion canal just south of 
Ray-sur-Saone  had a "guard lock" at about the
 midpoint of the canal--and no "guard gate"--to
 deal with flooding situations. 

Left: approaching the 620-meter Tunnel de Savoyeux. The most difficult part of the cruise
was the deep lock we had to deal with prior to the tunnel.
Right: in the Tunnel de Savoyeux. A "piece of cake" as far as tunnels go. When you've gone
through tunnels that are 5 km (3 miles) long (as we did in 2021), 620 meters
 of well-lit tunnel is nothing to worry about.

Believe it or not, Lon is actually enjoying the boating. It's just
that he's about to enter the tunnel and he's concentrating
on staying off the walls of the relatively narrow passageways 
and tunnel.

In 2021, we moored (by pounding stakes) against the bank of the canal fairly close to the tunnel exit. There's a port nearby, but they don't accommodate barges. At that time, the bank was nicely mowed. This year? Not so much. It's a good thing that we hadn't intended on staying there, but having to push on to the next possible mooring site at Ray-sur-Saone made for a longish 5.5-hour cruising day.

To get to Ray-sur-Saone you have to "make a left turn" from the normal cruise route that follows a deviation canal in order to travel about 1 km down a stretch of the actual Petite Saone River. As with Mantoche, there were advisories of depths of 1 meter in this 1-km stretch. We'd seen that other barges of our size had successfully made it to Ray, so we thought it was worth a try. We very slowly made our way amongst the river buoys that marked the navigable channel and docked without seeming to have ever been in danger of running aground. As it was already mid-afternoon by this point, and it had started spitting rain, we decided to stay in Ray for a day for recovery and to give us time to walk around the town.

Top: Approaching Ray-sur-Soane and avoiding the shoals to our right.
Bottom: our view from CARIB. The church tower and the Chateau de
Ray have a birds-eye view of the village.

An artistic "Welcome to Ray sur Saone".

The washhouse of 1844 was beautifully designed
and maintained.

The Church of Saint Pancras has a choir that was
built before 1224 and side chapels from the 15th 
century. The Romanesque heritage is evident in the
interior, which also contains several historically listed
works of art from the 16th and 17th centuries.

To get to the castle and the upper town one must climb.
The Petite Saone is visible at the upper portion of the photo.

The Chateau de Ray, an 18th century construction on the site of the medieval fortress that had been
 destroyed in the wars of the 17th century. The castle gardens were open for visitors, but at this point
in the year, the interior of the castle is only open for tours on weekends. The last owner of the
castle donated it to the Haute-Saone Department in 2015.

Pat climbing stairs near one of the two towers
of the castle that date back to the Middle Ages.

Our cruising itinerary tomorrow will take us beyond our "turn-around" point of 2021.

Farewell Auxonne

Despite a dreary and somewhat wet morning, we were able to leave Port Royal in Auxonne this morning and head north on the Petite Saone River. We are glad to be on the move.

Our one lockage in a rather short cruising day (only 2.5
hours, perfect for a first cruise) was a little damp, but "there
is no bad weather, only bad clothing," so I tried to take 
that into account in dressing for the day.

Our departure was possible because Lon is recovering well from his fall on May 11th. Although his rib is still somewhat painful, piloting the boat doesn't put much stress on the injured area, so we concluded that he could continue to heal just as well when we are cruising as he would if we were staying in port in Auxonne.

Lon getting the tender secured in preparation for cruising. 

From now until we leave CARIB in the fall we'll be fighting
the nemesis of boaters in the north country--spiders and the 
webs they manage to produce with amazing speed in the 
overnight hours.

The new swan family is a common sight in the Port Royal
harbor, and we enjoyed watching them during our stay.
 Sadly, what were three cygnets is now just two.

A very nice result of having delayed our departure
from Auxonne is that we were able to briefly cross
paths on May 21 with our "boating buddies" of last
year, Australians Lisette and Ian. We're not sure
how they managed to look so awake on their arrival day.

We are moored for the evening on a quay at the small town of Pontailler-sur-Saone. It markets itself as a center for nature and watersports. We briefly walked through the town, but its "season" must not start until June, because that's when the Tourist Office was scheduled to open. Although the streets were very quiet at mid-afternoon, at least Pontailler still has a few local shops, including a boulangerie. Its 18th-century church was not open, and the chateau that inspired the name of the "Place du Chateau" (castle square) no longer exists. So back to the boat we went, and we will give ourselves permission to have a lazy evening.

We may have the neighborhood all to ourselves tonight.

A Superstition "Bites the Dust"

The first report from France.

Our 2025 cruise was supposed to officially start on Saturday, 5-10-2025. We were going to pull out of Port Royal in Auxonne and head upstream on the Petite Saone River. For now, at least, the Canal de Vosges is open, so--consistent with our hopes, intentions, aspirations (but not plans, never the "p" word)--that is where we were going to head. We'd been joking for a while that saying the word "plan" only invites disaster, but we found out on Friday, May 9, that avoidance of "plans" has no real practical effect. On that day, Lon decided to test the efficiency of the French medical system. While washing the boat in preparation for departure, he slipped on the deck and fell, hitting the hard steel edge of one of the stairs on his way down to a very awkward landing on the deck. Just that quickly, our initial hopes-intentions-aspirations--yes, plans--were upended. 

It was fortunate that I was on the boat when it happened, but it still took a few minutes for his banging on the hull--and finally, yelling--to get my attention. He was lying front-side down with his left arm over the side of the boat, his right arm under his abdomen, and unable to turn over. Because he was in a lot of pain on his right side, it was obvious that I should not be moving him and that we needed to get help to evaluate his condition and avoid making things worse. Cue the call to "112".

Despite some small language difficulties, my message got through and the emergency response kicked into gear--and what a response it was. Ultimately, we probably had a dozen emergency responders show up on C.A.R.I.B. III: the initial 3 pompiers (firefighters)/paramedics; 2 police officers from the Gendarmerie Nationale; 4 SAMU (emergency medical services) personnel, which included a doctor; and 3 water rescue law enforcement personnel on the inflatable boat that was used to transport Lon from CARIB to the landside ambulance. 

Just a portion of CARIB's "visitors."

Lon on a backboard being loaded onto the boat. Lon was on the portside deck, away from
 the dock, and the rescuers thought it would be too difficult and dangerous to try
 to move him over CARIB's roof and decks, hence, the call for a marine unit boat. 

All-in-all, it was about 2 hours from the time I phoned 112 to when Lon was loaded into the ambulance. Google Translate was an invaluable communication tool during this time. Everyone was very kind, and their professionalism was never in doubt. I was able to ride in the back of the ambulance when Lon was transported to a hospital 30 minutes away on the north side of the city of Dijon. After about 4.5 hours in the emergency room, Lon was released. The verdict? A break in rib number 8 on his right side. He was given a prescription for an anti-inflammatory and a drug to deal with the pain. As it was nearly 11 p.m. at this point, we arranged for a cab to take us back to Auxonne. 

Our cost for all of this medical service: no charge for the emergency response or the ambulance ride; 19.61 euro (about $22) for the emergency room charges (and that only because Lon didn't have to be admitted overnight. If he had, there would have been no cost at all); and 14.81 euro (about $17) for the two medications at the pharmacy the next day. Our biggest expense was the 200-euro taxi ride from Dijon, but we figured that a hotel and next-day transportation would have added up about the same, so getting back to the boat right away was a no-brainer. We are so grateful to the French government and the French taxpayers for funding the kind of medical system they have. It's a very different approach to what we are accustomed to in the U.S.

Lon is doing very well. He's up and moving around--that was already the case on Friday night--and the medications are keeping his pain under control. He will be on medication through Friday, May 16, and then we will be evaluating our cruising options. Because Lon's cousin Frank is still scheduled to join us in early June, we need to look at a variety of scenarios that will work with Lon's health status, the location of towns on or near the waterway with train stations, Frank's hopes for his travel itinerary, and our cruising wishes and the condition of the waterways. All in good time.

Prior to Lon's accident, we'd had a mostly easy re-entry into France and barge life. Our flights from the U.S. were on time and (happily for me) without too many bumps. The biggest complaint was the short seat pitch in the Air France aircraft on the Atlanta-Paris portion of the trip. It's been quite some time since we've flown with our knees touching the seats in front of us. We took advantage of our early morning arrival to make a stop at Port Arsenal in Paris so that we could meet up with barging friends Jonathan and Jeannie on "Aleau" and enjoy catching up over a "bottomless cup o'joe" at "Breakfast in America."

It's always a pleasure to see Jeannie and Jonathan, and to enjoy
breakfast in what seems to have become "our booth" at BIA. 

It was a beautiful morning for a walk along the Seine. At top, the Notre Dame
 Cathedral is still under a great deal of scaffold, despite now being open to visitors.
Below, the tourist boats on the Seine had no shortage of passengers.

Our train connections to Auxonne from Paris worked great, but I am not ashamed to say that I was dragging by our 5 p.m. arrival in Auxonne. We were very grateful that our port captain John was there to meet us and give me and our luggage a ride to the boat. Lon had to walk the mile distance, but he took advantage of the fresh air to get a "second wind" so that he could get the water system on CARIB flushed and functioning again. Our gratitude to John extended to the grocery basics that he'd purchased on our behalf and the (spicy!) beef curry that he'd prepared so that we didn't have to worry about a shopping trip or dinner preparation on our arrival day. (Thanks to him also for responding to my telephone call about Lon on Friday afternoon and for keeping us company until the paramedics arrived.)

The week was filled with the usual projects to get CARIB ready for cruising. All of the boat systems performed as required, and--despite a lingering jet lag that made sleeping a bit difficult--we managed to get everything done that needed to be done, more quickly than expected. We even managed to fit in some social time with other boaters who are completing their own cruising preparations.

The Auxonne church and adjacent outdoor market held
on Victory in Europe Day (May 8).

Swans were nesting near one of the docks
at the port. 

  

The male swan was very protective of his mate and
the nest. Here, he was probably giving Lon the "evil
 eye" as a warning to stay away.

Auxonne's commemoration of the 80th anniversary of the end of WWII in Europe.
 VE Day is one of three May holidays in France.

Just in the last few days, three of the eggs in the swan's nest have hatched. Mama is still sitting on two eggs, but whether they will hatch remains to be seen.

And so, we wait. We are sorry that we are not cruising, but it's not all bad. We are incredibly thankful that Lon was not injured worse, and we can use the time for various other activities, including some projects that we had originally thought to defer to later in the season.