When we left St. Jean-de-Losne, we had hoped to make it as far south as Tournus – or, maybe, even as far as Macon – before heading back home to Auxonne. Our first stop after leaving Gergy would be Chalon-sur-Saône – a city (Population 45,000) that came highly recommended by many of our fellow bargees. One problem, though. Everyone (and all the guidebooks) said there is no mooring for boats longer than 15-metres. Aleau is 20-metres. It would be hard to convince anyone at the marina that we’re really only 15-metres.
We don’t give up that easily.
We found a spot. The location was ideal. The depth was not. The shore was lined with sharp-edged rocks. (You can barely see them in front of the bow in the photo below.) There was no way we could get close to shore. Aleau’s hull would be cut to pieces. Fortunately, perhaps thinking we might encounter something like this during our travels, last summer I went to a tire shop and asked for a few used tires. They were happy to get rid of them. (Tires are not allowed to used as fenders on canals – and especially not in locks. If they separated from the boat they could wedge in the lock gates and keep them from closing. A diver would need to be hired to go down and remove the offending tire.) But, for our purposes, a few old tires were ideal. I tied them to the side of Aleau and let them sink until they were near the bottom of the hull – separating it from the rocks.
My anxiety level rose when a fellow from the marina (only a few metres away) walked over. I was sure he was going to tell us we couldn’t moor there. And honestly, I didn’t think mooring was permitted. Easier to get forgiveness than permission.
Instead, he offered to help. We threw him our three massive mooring stakes – along with an equally massive sledge hammer. He got them into the ground, took our ropes, and tied us up. We were still too far from the shore to jump – but we had purchased a gangplank for just such an occasion.
I asked the fee – and how long we could stay. He pointed out we weren’t actually in the marina. There would be no fee and we could stay as long as we wished.
Once again, I was touched by the kindness and generosity everyone in France has shown us.
If you look closely, you can see the rocks. Looking past the stern, the heart of downtown Chalon-sur-Sâone. Below, the view from the aft-deck where we would sit and have a drink and remark on how lucky we are to be living such a life.
A Google-Earth shot showing where we were able to tie up (just under the ‘r’ in Chalon-sur-Sâone) and, to the right, the marina where we weren’t allowed to moor – yet a marina employee kindly walked over to help us.
