Stoppage - Chapter III France 2003

Everyone knows the expression "when in France, do as the French do."  Well, that's what we were doing that heat filled day; sitting under the shade of a tree at an outdoor cafe, relaxing and watching the world go by.  It was wonderful even though we had no choice.  During our trip along the Canal du Rhone au Rhin, the lock-keepers suddenly called a strike.  Every lock in France closed.

The lock that we needed to use to go forward on our trip had a white sheet draped over the gate with the word "greve" painted on it in extra large red letters.  We were stuck, we couldn't go forward nor could we go back because the locks that we had already come through were closed too.  So we sat for two days until labor and the French government came to an agreement.  

There wasn't much traffic on this part of the canal so only two boats were at the small dock.  No one was in any hurry; we both had plenty of time, groceries, wine and there was a pleasant little cafe with a large shade tree just a short walk away up the graveled tow path. We all relaxed.


I couldn't help wonder how someone would feel on a two week vacation in a rental boat with 2-1/2 days of your precious time off being taken up by what seemed to be a nonsensical argument between labor and management.  I'm not sure I would have been very relaxed in that situation.


Europeans are right, people need more than a dinky little two week vacation.

Tunnels

                                                               There is light at the end


We never thought about the tunnels.  When we decided to travel through the waterways of France, certainly we expected locks and canals and bridges and rivers and traffic, never considering that sometimes, instead of going over a hill, we would go through it.  

We hate tunnels.  Well, we don't mind (too much) the short ones where you can see the light at the end.  Dark, dank and drippy as they are, at least you can keep your eye on that pinhole of light and watch it get bigger.

It's when you can not see the light at the end of the tunnel that it tends to get a little spooky, especially when there is a traffic light in the middle of the tunnel that turns red just as you come upon it and you have to tie up in the tight turn-out while you wait for a large barge to pass....very, very slowly, the noise of it echoing all around.  


It's spooky when you've read that the tunnel you're passing through was built during the Napoleonic wars by British prisoners, who, when they died, were simply buried in the walls, and look, pieces of the walls have sloughed off and doesn't that look like bone not brick?


It's when you have to register with the lock keeper so they know that someone is in one of the longer tunnels and if you don't come out.....well, we're not sure whether they look for you or just close the tunnel.   Oh, of course, they look for you.  

If you happen to be possessed by an over-active imagination, tunnels can provide hours of scary what-if thinking.


Luckily, we're not that way.

                                                          Exiting a 3 kilometer tunnel

The Panama Canal as a Dryer

 Pelicus, Diapers & The Bridge of the Americas

There are times when other people's accomplishments take some of the wind out of your own sails.  Their grit and determination neatly deflates any puffed-up opinion you may have of yourself.  That's how we felt meeting the crew of the catamaran, Pelicus.  The 5 person, 2 dog crew had sailed from Seattle, Washington to the south western end of Mexico when we met them and we were delighted to encounter them again and again throughout our sail  to Panama.

A crew of 5 should make for easy passages but when that compliment is made up of 2 adults and three children under 10, one in diapers, you realize that Mom and Dad are doing double duty by taking care of the family and taking care of the boat. Throw in a couple of canines and you are forced to wonder why anyone with a house on land with electricity, a stove that does not move and a grocery store within driving distance would have anything at all to complain about.  

Once, wandering through a crowded outdoor market in El Salvador, a stranger whispered to the Mom, "Senora, keep your children close.  They can be taken for ransom."   That frightened her so badly that the little hands were sore from being so tightly held for the rest of the time in the market.

We crewed for Pelicus when they transited the Panama Canal.  Each private boat going through the Canal must have 4 line handlers, a helmsman and an official adviser on board.  Hiring extra crew is prohibitively expensive for most cruisers, so helping one another through the six locks is the rule.

We are proud to say that we were on board the only boat going through the Panama Canal that day with diapers drying in the rigging.