St Quentin is a larger town than Cambrai and has a port du pleasance. It seemed the ideal place for the next stop. It is 52km (32miles) along the canal from Cambrai but, the canal rises through 17 locks to a central plateau then falls through 5 locks to St Quentin. Although there are no locks along the 20km plateau, there are two tunnels. The Grand Souterrain, also known as Souterrain de Macquincourt, is the longest tunnel in France that still tows boats along its length. Apparently, the tunnel has inadequate ventilation, so still utilises an electric mule to tow convoys of boats, connected by 30m ropes, by drawing on a chain on the canal bed. It is 5.7km long. The Souterrain de Lesdins is much shorter at 1.1km (0.7 mile), and boats use their own power to pass through.
As we set out from Cambrai on Sunday 3rd July, I don’t think either Hil or myself had any idea how strenuous 17 up-locks over a 25km stretch was going to be. These one-péniche sized locks were proving to be a nightmare. On the approach to the locks there is often an outfall from the up-side of the lock. After carefully judging speed and direction for a nice coast to a stop in the lock, this outfall often pushed the bows over requiring quick reactions to regain control. The knock-on effect was that each time we were entering the locks our speed and position were out, and stopping Sno’ Rush in a lock, with the amount of pro walk she has, was proving difficult. The in-rush of water was also causing us some concern. After a slow start, the water raced in causing Sno’ Rush to slew about in the lock. Trying to find the most comfortable position in the lock with the inappropriate positioning of the bollards and actuation rods was becoming a seemingly impossible task. After 4hours and seven locks we gave up and tied up overnight at l’Ecluse Masnieres. The following day I was still exhausted and couldn’t face another 10 locks in the 35°C heat, so we took a day off to recuperate.
The Ecluse Masnieres – Canal du St Quentin
On Tuesday 5th, we set off at 1030 hours with new ideas on how to manage the locks. The day was still hot, but we were going to slow everything down and try different lock positions. By the time we tied up at Vendhuile at 1830 hours, we’d had two rest breaks within the remaining 10 locks and finally found some sort of position that was beginning to work. In these locks, Sno’ Rush sat better further back from the up-stream gates. Unfortunately, the access ladder was inevitably near the down-stream gates and on the opposite side of the lock to the control rods. It meant climbing the ladder and walking around the lock to operate the rods, but at least the worry of damaging the boat was reduced.
After another night on the canal side in the back-and-beyond, we rose early to take on the mighty Grand Souterrain. After a short jaunt, we knew we were close when overhead power lines, similar to those on train tracks, started overhead. A queue had already begun to form on the quayside so we moored up after the last craft. We were fourth in line after a working péniche, a live-aboard péniche with a large tiller for steering and an elderly Dutch couple in a steel motorboat. We had some idea of what to expect as we were given a leaflet by the lock keeper at Crévecoeur lock and had already prepares our ropes. As the tows were to be 30m apart, I’d joined 4 ropes to give two 35m long ropes. The Dutchman had been through five times before and freely gave advice on what to expect. I must admit, I was a bit wary as we set off at about 3km/hr (1½ knots), remembering the tales of others being slewed into the walls etc. As we entered the tunnel, I held my breath, hoping Sno’ Rush would behave herself.
The convoy enters the Grand Souterrain
As it was, she behaved perfectly, keeping a central position without too much difficulty. The Dutchman in front had an awful job trying to maintain a middle position as the péniche in front couldn’t steer properly and, for the whole length of the tunnel, had his bows on the towpath and stern rubbing the wall. The clatter as his doghouse caught the upper walls was deafening. The tunnel was not what I expected, being illuminated throughout and with a walkway and emergency telephones. The only problem was the deluge of rain coming down the vertical air ducts, as I couldn’t steer to avoid them. Halfway through, the Dutchman, who was steering from his stern of his boat began singing. Only quietly at first, but when we waved and applauded, he turned and sang some Dutch song at the top of his voice. All tension disappeared and we laughed and joked between ourselves. At the end of the tunnel the towlines were released and drawn in leaving us to motor freely away.
A short distance away fron the exit, the two péniches waved us on so we both upped speed and overtook them. As I drew away I reduced speed and took a look over the stern to check water and engine temperature. Calamity! The white smoke/steam was a sure sign she was seriously overheating. We pulled in at a nearby mooring to let her cool down and take stock of what was happening – the extra speed must have pushed her into the red. Mind you we must have been doing 6 knots or more – what a silly thing to do! We limped through the next section and then through the Lesdins tunnel, which was not as awe-inspiring as the Macquincourt tunnel. Lesdins is 1.1km long, lit and of the same size and configuration as its bigger brother. Entry is regulated by a light system, which was green for us. Luckily, the speed limit of 4km/hr kept our engine temperature down.
Both Hil and I noticed that the canal after Lesdins took on a completely different character to that on the uphill side. Instead of being tree and shrub lined for almost its entire length, there were large areas of open countryside providing a far more pleasant atmosphere. Little villages dotted on the canalside with the odd shop here and there, very picturesque.
After a couple of stops for cooling down, it became obvious that we wouldn’t make St Quentin, so we moored up after the third lock for the night. The quaint little village of Omissy, from which the lock took its name, was beside the canal, so after a quick shopping trip for bread and milk the following morning, we set of the pass through the remaining two locks and head for St. Quentin. Luckily, travelling at tick-over speed, we kept the temperature down which left us free to enjoy the sights of St. Quentin as we passed through the city. Looks like a more serious effort to find the overheating problem is on the cards when we reach the Port du Pleasance!
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