Peter thinks I am super woman. He expects me to jump off the barge onto the shore with the barge going full pelt in the wind, run with the ropes to the nearest tree which is often across a paved path, wrap the rope around a huge tree trunk, and stop the barge. I have failed three times and our entry into the last three locks has been by gosh and by golly, let alone bumps and bangs.
No one has told us about the wind in the autumn months, but it is ferocious! Our barge does not cope with wind, and nor do I, so I have found out.
And then... we finally stopped on the side of the canal with great difficulty, pounded our stakes into the ground, tied our ropes off... and 2 hours later after the locks had closed, we found that the water level had dropped about 30 cm (one foot), leaving our behind high and dry on silt and the barge tilting at a precarious angle into the canal. PV called the emergency number in France, to find he could leave a message. Miraculously, by about 4 in the morning, the 'lock fairy' had heard our plea and restored the water. We were floating again.
With luck we should be at our winter port tomorrow, and we can relax. However.... our hot water system just blew up spectacularly while Peter was taking a shower! What fun and games we are having at the moment.
Barging is lovely 98% of the time... 1% is exciting, and 1% is just awful.
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