Canals, dreams, and plans part one

Dear friends and family,

Today is the second day in Carcassonne recovering. We arrived here after riding two days in a row into a headwind of 20-30 MPH. Imagine pedaling hard, in a low gear, hands gripping the handlebars, while making headway at only about five MPH. I was riding far to the outside of the track, afraid a gust would push me into the canal. For seven hours the first day and five the second, we pushed those pedals. At that rate not many miles get covered.

 I have to reluctantly admit that I struggled to enjoy the scenery of being on a mostly gravel canal path winding through this countryside that is gradually turning drier as we approach the Mediterranean Sea. 

I saw the airport on the map and felt tempted to change course towards it, pack up my ride, and fly somewhere. 

On a Sunday afternoon we approached the old town area of Carcassone. There was a path along the Aude river that had signs for both walkers and bicyclists, but we saw no other bicyclists and had to weave and wait behind the afternoon families strolling. It was either my imagination ( or mood) but these strollers didn’t seem eager to part way for us to get by.

Eventually the hotel was reached, bike locked in the parking garage, and gear hauled to the room to see the castle from our balcony ( see picture).

Settlement of some sort of castle on this hill goes back to the sixth century BC and has been added to and remodeled since. 

I’d like to say that once I saw that view and realized that we bicycled here all the way from the Atlantic it made it all feel worthwhile, but I’d be lying. I wanted and needed to be pissy and feel sorry for myself. Poor guy, stuck pedaling into the wind in the south of France, able to afford a nice hotel, meals out, and a bunch of time to wallow in my self pity. Poor guy! 

A nice dinner at a tiny Vietnamese restaurant and an early departure to the dream world led me to be quite surprised when I awoke to realize that I had slept eleven hours nonstop! Almost missed the breakfast that I’d paid for.

We are halfway through the Canal du Midi, which itself is about half of the ” Canal Des 2 Mers” ( two seas)  which combines the Canal du Garonne and the Midi to shortcut across France. The Canal du Garrone was built in the mid 19th century to roughly parallel the Garonne River to make boat travel easier than the River, which I could see flows strongly and could be treacherous to navigate.

The Canal du Midi was finished in 1681, and closed to commercial traffic in about 1970.  It goes from Toulouse to the Mediterranean Sea.

The French waterway system is the largest in Europe, comprised of 5300 miles of navigable rivers and canals through the country.

Back in 1986 when I had my sailboat built in England, I had plans to utilize this waterway system to get said boat from England to the Med, sail for a season ( grown up “gap year”) and then sell it.

Aside: I eventually took a five year break, sailing halfway round the world, over 35,000 miles. Shows what a good planner I am, so chose helping people plan their financial lives as a career. Joke.

I had the boat deliberately underballasted so she would only draw 4.5 feet instead of the fully ballasted design depth of 5.5 feet. This would allow her to keep from going aground in the fairly shallow canals. 

As you readers who have ever spent time around boatbuilding know all too well, the boat construction took an extra 14 weeks longer than expected, and the canals dried out as the summer season moved on, so that by the time of our September launch even with the shallower draft, she would be too deep for any French canal.

I even had reservations to remove the mast at Le Havre, the French port where the river Seine meets the English Channel, have it trucked to the Med, where we would remast it  for sailing. As you can see from a couple of pictures, it would be a pain, and probably risk damage to carry this mast on deck while transiting through.

I was dreaming of mooring in the Seine in Paris traveling in my own craft- big dream. Was still attached to the Jimmy Buffet ” He went to Paris, looking for answers…”

So, instead of finding those answers, I had no choice but to sail across the dreaded Bay of Biscay to Spain in what by now was the beginning of the storm season.

The boat I had previously sailed on in Lake Erie was a six ton thirty foot fibreglass sailboat. Now I was imagining my first salt water sail, but in my steel, thirty six foot, twelve ton craft. She would probably just glide powerfully through the sea towards Spain in any weather.

Yes, I was quite surprised as I laid in my bunk the first night south of the English Channel when as she fell off the crest of a wave I was lifted airborne off my bunk to drop back down in a crash against the Lee cloth holding me to the  bunk. 

Hmmm, not exactly what the plan was. Eating croissants along the Seine in Paris contrasted to flying and crashing in Biscay. 

Lots of reminders of that plan as I rode along the now closed for the winter canals, often dried out for maintenance, getting a good look at their shallowness. Seeing lots of boats side tied for the winter or side tied for many winters as life plans change for the owners and boats are left. There’s a boatyard/storage yard in Port Townsend called by locals ” Dauby’s yard of broken dreams”, filled with half finished and abandoned project boats.

I’m imagining all the dreams of the many boat owners who got themselves and their boats this far.

I’m still looking for answers to those questions ” that bother him so…” 

in fact, seems like I have even more questions now. I’m not stupid enough to not realize my good fortune to be in this position to be able to ponder these even as I might struggle for a few hours physically here and there. My choice of deliberate discomfort is something to explore more later.

Let’s see, another cafe au lai with croissant or should I go explore the castle?

Sending love,

Charley