The Journey -
Rosy Moves On

On Monday 8th July the strike of the lock-keepers continued, so I had an exhausting and stressful day cleaning and lacquering all the remaining brass knobs on Rosy.

On Tuesday the batalliers (peniche owners) decided that (as the Frenchman said who had an egg for breakfast every morning) un oeuf is un oeuf.  The top lock gates would be opened and the boats in the lock would move out.  Then the lock would be emptied, and the waiting boats would also be passed through.  The complete convoy would then proceed through the remaining locks.  Rosy was invited to join the second batch, but we declined the offer, not wishing to participate in industrial action.  Anyway, off they all went, without any unfortunate moments.  About twohours later, some new boats appeared at the lock, and the gates opened - inviting them to enter.  I went up to see the lock-keeper, who said that the strike is now over, so Rosy's engine was cranked up, and off we went.

It was a lovely cruise.  The weather was mainly sunny, but there were heavy clouds drifting around, giving a glowing, greyish light.  The River Yonne was mainly tree lined, and had a series of broad, sweeping bends.  Once the lockful of boats had gone on ahead, Rosy and I seemed to be alone on the dark river, chugging serenely up-stream.  We passed by a swan with seven nearly full grown cygnets.  The locks were all slope-sided, but we just hovered near the back gates where the swells entering the lock were hardly felt.  It was a curiously peaceful afternoon. 

After some four hours, we arrived at Pont-sur-Yonne, where there is a serviceable but tatty looking pontoon, devoid of water or electricity.  It was equipped with some automatic fenders that worked surprisingly well.

The next day was market day, so I stocked up with veggies and salads before casting off, and heading up towards Sens.

The town quay is along a convenient wall, armed with substantial bollards, some of which are also electricity points.  Water may be had, but one system requires a special adapter and a LONG hose, and the other is a spring loaded tap that switches off after about 20 seconds.  All in all, Sens is not a good watering hole!!  However, the quay is in busy town, and is convenient for sightseers and shop-aholics, with an Internet Cafe just across the road.

The main attraction is the Cathedral of St Stephen.  It would have been impressive, but after last weeks visit to Chartres ...

Attached to the Cathedral is a very eclectic museum.  It holds lots of church paraphernalia, including the vestments of St Thomas a Becket and St Edmund, the hat that Napoleon wore at Waterloo, one definite painting by Brughel the Younger, and another attributed to him, plus a good collection of Gallo-Roman items found on the site, and the bronze age jeweller's hoard found near-by.

I paid a visit to the nearby Evans Marine, a Brit-run boatyard.  Lyndon Thomas Evans (LTE - his father was a London cabbie with a mis-placed sense of humour) runs it with his brother Simon.  It is a mass of boats.  As I entered the site, an aged, nearly toothless crone in a worn blue boiler suit appeared, carrying a tea-pot.

"Bonjour," said I.  The crone grunted.

"Ou est monsieur Lyndon, s'il vous plaît?" I asked.

The crone replied in a strong London accent "'E's in the workshop."

"Where is that?" I asked.

She sighed and said "Behind the office, to the left."

"Right," I said.  "Thanks."

"No!" she shouted.  "Left."

I found Lyndon and started discussing boaty things when the aged crone reappeared, and enquired if I would like a cup of coffee.

I said "Golly!!  Gosh!!  I hadn't had you marked down as an angel, but YES PLEASE."

Lyndon then got very agitated, and not a bit cross.  "Don't you be giving our Mum ideas above her station in life," he warned.

You'll never guess what brother Simon collects.

Life-boats.

He's got about a dozen.  "You know the Ruby series, of course?" he asked.

"Er..." I faltered.

"Well, I've got one of each of them, AND a rowed one from 1904 AND the first diesel powered one."

Impressive stuff.  There is a little corner in a foreign land that is forever dedicated to the RNLI.

Thursday night was party night.  Peter and Caroline on their boat Caroline 2, plus Frank and Janet from Australia et moi BBQed on the quay.  Trout for me, kebabs from the local Le Clerc for the rest.  Plus, afterwards, for me, in the privacy of my own boat, half a kilo of delicious Morello (I think) cherries.  Dark and sweet.  Ummmmm!!!!! 

'Till next week ...

Toodle pip!!

Bill