Part 4: p. Oise - r. Chauny
River Oise, September 17th. Bytovuha. Today we left the bed of the Seine and entered the river Oise (Oise). We moored for the night in the town of Sergi. We walked quite a bit, about 23 miles. Although there were only a couple of locks, we decided to get up early. Take a breath and collect your thoughts. The team also needed a bath day and some electricity for our batteries.
Every day there are some moments that I would like to focus on. However, there is the problem of free time. And sitting down at the diary, you have to make a difficult choice between sleep and the ship's log. Although, from the experience of working on the site, I understand that if you miss the moment, the impressions will go away.
Yesterday, when entering the gateway, an emergency happened. There were no consequences, although the situation could have ended badly. The transmission control cable came loose. Just at the moment when I started moving towards the opened gate. From the gateway, a ship came out towards me. Everything happened in a narrow channel, no more than 20-25 meters wide. And this is just a couple of the hulls of my boat.
There was a pier on the opposite side of the canal and I had no choice but to direct the boat to it. The outgoing ship had not yet picked up speed and I managed to complete the maneuver under its nose and secure the boat on the pier. The realization that the situation could have had a different outcome came later. Now I have included this node in my daily morning inspection before starting the engine.
Also yesterday, a funny incident happened and again in the locks. Come on, green light. We went in, we settled down. Descent four meters. We are waiting for the gates to open. We are sitting in a well. One minute, five, fifteen. A couple of breaks. Seems like we've been forgotten. After probably half an hour, my patience ran out and I climbed upstairs.
Pleasure is below average, I tell you. The stairs of the locks are covered with a two-finger layer of dirt. But where to go? As soon as I got to the top, the gates began to move. I admit that there was some kind of failure in management and the gateway manager had nothing personal to me.
Gateways again. Today, on the Seine. We go in splendid isolation. The chief will meet us with shouts, of course in French. Seeing our flags and interrogative mines, the locksmith turned on the sign language. After a short consultation, we decided that we were asked to be pulled to the very end. Okay, we don’t sip tea with bast shoes. Bonjour monsieur. We take a place at the very exit gate.
It is worth adding that locking down the river is much more pleasant than going up. We stand, we wait, we relax. Again a smoke break, a photo shoot. No reaction. Thinking about a cup of coffee. And here it is! A miracle, more than a hundred meters in length. Barely got through the gate. Moored right in front of us and works as a rudder. Our boat was rinsed like a tea bag in a glass. And the distance between us is half a length.
But it's not even scary. The size of our mast is two meters beyond the transom. And it seems that if he adds a little more speed to his steering wheel, then the cabin of the second classavoid docking with the mast. They tensed up, hung on the mooring lines. Tourists from the ship take pictures and wave. In response, we portray brave sailboatsmen, we smile. Although the hamstrings are shaking.
In the end, everything went smoothly. But it was another experience. You can't relax even for a minute. As soon as the thoughts "we swam - we know" appear, the river teaches another lesson and you understand that your number is sixteen. Give it, bring it, sit down and learn.
A separate theme of French floating houses. There are countless of them here. For every taste and color. Enough differentand prices. The owners are mostly not poor people, but there are specimens out of the ordinary. Today we saw, literally, a floating suitcase. Another doghouse will be more spacious. But no, someone lives in it too. Smoke is coming out of the chimney, and clothes are drying on a rope.
Such a water ascetic.
So it goes. However, today I will turn the bench. Beloved decided to pamper me with a pie. And he's already staring. In general, an ordinary event for the house. But, a pie on a sailboat, it is somehow twice as valuable or something.