The Journey -
The Beginning of the End on Rosy

MILESTONES

(or The End of the Beginning and the Beginning of the End).

Confused?  Read on, dear reader, read on …

On Monday 23rd May 2005 we left our moorings at 0800 hrs for a gentle pootle up to the first lock.  It was only 3.5m wide (we are about 2.10m wide) but was 35m long - and as Temujin is 18m long and Rosy 16m, we reckoned our total of 34m would slip in quite nicely, especially as we save at least a metre by overlapping our bow and stern.  When we arrived at the lock (we were going to go down it) it was full with the top gates open.  So Mike went in, and was down at the fore-end of Temujin with the bow line as I was coming in at the back, when Mr Very Grumpy Lock Keeper appeared demanding to know (in Polish) something like what were we doing in his lock?  Our reply, along the lines that we wished to descend it, was greeted with rage, and an assurance by Mr VGLK that two boats can't get in the lock together.  "Yes they can - watch us."

He then pointed to a strange pole with a disk on the top, one side of the disk is red and the other green.  Most locks in Poland are armed with these devices, but all previous lock keepers have only used them in extremis - to tell us from a distance that we can enter - or not, as the case may be.  We had a long lecture from Mr VGLK, in Polish, on the use of these disks, which we ignored as we were busy sorting the boats out.

On one side of the neatly kept lock garden, there was what I took to be a carefully tended grave, but it turned out to be a memorial to Pope John-Paul II, complete with two young cypress trees, a vase of lilies and two little paraffin lamps.  On the other side of the lock was a large notice detailing the authorities responsible for the lock.

Mr VGLK then took the money for our passage down the lock and then approached me for the same.  As Mike is paying for outward locks, and I'm paying for home bound lock, I explained that my friend pays, and checked that Mike HAD indeed paid for the two of us.  At this Mr VGLK got even angrier.  He took us to the small lock cabin/office and pointed to a tiny notice over the door with the opening hours on it - open at 0900, and it was still only 0845.  He unlocked the door to show us the scale of charges - double for out of hours working.  So we went back to the boats, untied them and started backing out. 

At this another lock keeper appeared, and said "No!  No! - Lock them through!!" so we settled down for the descent.  But Mr VGLK hadn't finished - he started interfering with Mike's carefully placed bow line, trying to pull the boats towards the back of the lock, at the bottom of which is a sill, which the stern of the boat must take great pains not to land on during the descent.

Anyway, Mike was off the stern-end of Temujin and up at the bows in about two seconds flat, ripped the rope out of the hands of Mr VGLK, put it back on the bollard, and explained in loud English and universally understood gestures that Mr VGLKs job was to work the lock, whilst Mike's job was to look after the boat.  Mr VGLK's response was that with the boats as the were, when the lock was empty, he would not be able to open the bottom gate as the bow of the boat would be in the way.  Mikes response was that he (Mr VGLK) was a 100% total pillock, because when the lock was empty, the sill would seen, and we could pull the boats back to it.

With considerable bad grace Mr VGLK opened both paddles to their fullest extent, which was zero problem for us as we were descending.

This is the first problem lock-keeper we have had to contend with, so I guess we have been very lucky.

After another lock, and some delightful cruising, we reached the lakeside town of Ostroda, where we hoped to moor.  There were boat clubs and marinas on the approaches to the town, and a long, inviting concrete quay along the town frontage, consisting of three or four gentle steps leading down to the water.  The steps were backed by open-air cafés, restaurants and bars, with gaily coloured sun-shades, and shops selling (we hoped) food, beer and 35mm film.  Unfortunately, there were only three bollards to tie to, and they were in a small area of the quay, bounded by 'no-mooring' notices.  So we didn't visit Ostroda - took some nice photos, though.

Instead we went on through another small canal with two locks on it - only one boat at a time could get into the locks.  This brought us out onto a lake - Oh!  If you MUST know its name, it is Jezioro (Lake) Szelag Wielki.  Any help?  We cruised to the top of the lake, and found a not very comfortable mooring.  A small twisty cut leads from the head of the lake for a couple of hundred metres to a tunnel under a railway embankment, and thence into another lake.  We recced the route, and bottled out of going.  There seemed to be very shoaly water at the tunnel entrance, and the cut itself was so overhung with trees that it would have been uncomfortable.  We were tired, anyway, after a longish day, and agreed to re-think things in the morning - which was cold, heavily overcast and windy, so we didn't go.

This meant that this was, in fact, our terminus.  The end of the outward phase of our journey.  Our turning point.  The end of the beginning.

For those who like numbers and statistics:

We left Conde sur Marne on 1 March 2004.

We over-wintered in Eisenhuttenstadt from 15 October 2004 to 18 April 2005.

We arrived at Jezioro Szelag Wielki on 23 May 2005.

Between 1 March 2004 and 23 May 2005:

• The engine on Rosy ran for 1054 hours (including some hours when we were not moving, merely making electricity).
• We covered 4470 kilometres
• We went through 314 locks and 8 ship lifts

At this point I felt a bit flat.  Having achieved a long-standing ambition, what to do next?

Well, right then, on a cold, windy, overcast morning, we pulled in our ropes, winded, and started on the return journey - the beginning of the end.

Getting back still poses us a problem as we have to ascend the River Wisla - 124 km against a 3, 4, 5 or 6 km current is going to be a L-O-N-G slog.  We guesstimate (from maps and the GPS) that the river falls some 18 metres in those 124 lockless kilometres.

Then what?  Is there a rich benefactor out there, with up to £10,000 to spare, who wants to pay to transport two boats to and from a French, Belgian or Dutch port to the English canal system?  If so, we could book into the 2006 IWA National Rally, and claim the prize for the longest and most meritorious voyage to the rally.

I still have some wishes - to visit the River Somme, and the Canal du Midi, so those will take two or three years to fulfil.

Life goes on …

Toodle pip!!

Bill