The Log of Severance (1986 Tartan 34-2): Throw me the line

Picture the scene.

The sun has set, we have gone through 28 locks, it is dark and we are approaching a closed lock with a possible mooring before it. But the mooring is seemingly full with two river vessels and a larger craft. On shore we seem to be interrupting a small cocktail party with the occupants of the three craft. Now totally dark, we communicate with our limited French and their limited English. They seem to guess our intent to dock, so quickly they move their vessels giving us a mooring between their boats and they were ready for our arrival. I am stationed at the bow and Armando at the stern while Scott maneuvers Severance for docking. Only feet separate us now from the folks on the shore, pleading for me to throw the line to them. (I do not speak French, but sometimes you just know what things mean).

But, what is Scott’s prime directive?
Never, throw a line.
Why?
Because they will want to pull it!

I know this rule, but our soon to be new friends seem not to. Pleading for me to throw the line in their native French, I ignore their need to help us and Scott moves Severance to the proper position, then only with permission granted from the captain, I fling the line the last two feet to the confused, but grateful shore party, and they finished the already completed docking by pulling the line.

The reason for not throwing a line is that often the shore personnel will pull with the best of intentions, but not in conjunction with the captain‘s ultimate docking procedure.

So we meet and greet and since we are new friends, they do what all French seem to do, and bring out the Champagne. Add some scotch, red and white wine and beer, and proper introductions were made. Plans then were made for tomorrow’s passage through the locks and we agreed to share locks as we traverse the canals.

Following our new French Friends

I think I have not mentioned the rules of the lock system. They open at 9:00am allowing for passage. This is about 10 minutes after we wake up…well, after some of us wake up. Off we go and enter the first lock. This is the first time we have shared a lock with three other boats, and with two meters to spare, we all fit snugly. No photos of this portion of the journey, because we spend all our time in the turbulent locks trying not to smash into each other.

All the locks close for lunch between 12:00 and 1:00 pm. Actually most of France closes also. So our three craft approach a lock at noon and pull over for lunch. We are invited by our French friends to share lunch, which of course we agree to. Down below in our galley, we gather our sliced meat, bread, cheese and our boxed wine, glad to be able to contribute to the feast that awaits us. We scramble to shore and not surprisingly, our new French friends have 14 chairs, tables grouped together and a proper Sunday banquet complete with all the foods and cases of wine one would expect on the shores of France. Course after course throughout the long afternoon. Great times were had. Soon 1:00 became 2:00 then 2:00 became 3:00, and then it was time to say good-bye, as they had to return the boats they had rented for the weekend.