Showing posts with label shipyard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shipyard. Show all posts

Maggie May Goes Back in the Water Again - Good-bye Shipyard!


Maggie May - on the hard at Chantier Allemand in Grau d'Agde, France.

Leaving Berlin, it's back to the French shipyard for New Year's Eve.

Our last few nights living "on the hard".


This calls for a celebration!

It's time to go back into the water.

First, the Hérault River - to the Ecluse Rond (Round Lock).
And from there, back to the Canal du Midi.

Yes, we've been looking forward to it.


Still - it's a bit of a nail-biting experience.

Maggie May gets put into the enormous sling - all 23 tons.

We try to do all the necessary steps right. 


We struggle a bit with all the unknowns.
We are returned to the water just as it gets dark.
Everything seems last minute.

I crawl around the big wheels of the lift machine, trying to secure the boat.
I use my phone as a flashlight.
Just hoping I don't fall in.

And: After the work that was done: 
Will the new seacock valves leak?
Will the engine even start after 8 weeks?


Can we make it up the river and through the 11 locks without issues?
Some of those spots are VERY narrow. And it's winter!

The locks are being opened specially for us.
Will the lock keepers be there on time?

So it's - good-bye Mediterranean living.
We're heading back to the Midi.


This transit was a major step for us. 

There was a sense of urgency, too.  

Our spot in the shipyard was already taken by the time we were out of sight.
And - with the enormous fishing trawlers creating huge waves, we didn't want to spend the night in the river. 

Coming around the final corner into Poilhes! It's VERY windy. And cold.

And: Ol' Maggie May makes it, in spite of fierce winds and bitter cold. 

We have our reserved "spot" in Poilhes, our winter mooring on the Canal du Midi. 


The village of Poilhes. "City Center".  

The next day, we meet a Scot on a narrowboat.
(The canals in the UK are much narrower, so they build the boats there skinnier.)

He's cranky. We've taken the spot by the water mains. (It wasn't our choice-)
Then, he regrets his crankiness - and invites us to his 60th birthday dinner.

Turns out, he's a bagpipe player.
Somehow, this was not the way I pictured our local French bar.

By the end of the evening, we've met another dozen boat people.
English is the primary language, much to Stan's relief. 


Bagpipes in the bistro.

So - we're back where we started, on the Canal du Midi.
But: Now Maggie May is ours.

We've learned a LOT about boats in the meantime.
My French nautical vocabulary has improved.

It's January, and it's cold.
But the view out the cabin window in the morning is lovely.


We've been in France since November.
For now, we only have a limited amount of time on our tourist visas.
We have to leave the Schengen Area (which includes most of Europe).

East or West?
We spent last winter in the Far East, so West it is.

The Caribbean calls us for couple of months.
At some point, we'll apply for a longer visa.

On the way, we stop in London for a few days.
January is time for museums and riding double decker buses in the rain.
Even visiting a friend or two.


For now, it's good-bye Maggie May!
See you in spring!

We miss you already.





At the Shipyard in France


We really have NO idea what we're doing.




We're kind of living on the boat. IN the shipyard. 
Up a TALL ladder.
While they're working on the boat. 
Until they open the canals again after the New Year. 

It's very weird, (and a very long drop to the ground-) but - I'm getting used to it.

The view is great.

In spite of the sailing lessons, and the boats we've chartered:
We really don't know much about boats.
 And nothing about buying and registering a live aboard boat in France.

It's not something you learn from books. 
Or blogs. 
You really have to spend LOTS of time - hours and hours, days and weeks and months - and slowly, it all becomes normal. -I guess.




We brought the boat down from the Canal du Midi to the shipyard by the Mediterranean, just before the locks close for the winter. No other boats moving.


The famous "Round Lock". Boats go through here. This is the last one before the Mediterranean.

We're learning about the systems: 
The 12-volt low voltage systems, bilge pumps, generators, corrosion, and macerators. We find that half the systems are located under the floorboards, others under the beds, some by removing the steps.
.
Everything - basically - is a mystery.
There are switches and cables and tubes and wires and ropes and tanks and engines and breakers and buckets and LOTS of old rags.

And remind me how that inverter works?


Stan and the surveyor from Marseilles, under the boat.

Spent a day with the surveyor, who tests the hull and the systems. He was excellent - as a former shipyard owner in Marseilles himself, he gave us a load of advice and information (which I wrote down) as he explained things patiently to us.

We really weren't clear even on simple things like 12 volt vs. shore power. There are propane tanks and a generator and a huge engine and various sets of batteries and switches. So many "Aha" moments - so THAT'S what this hole is for, so that's how that crank works, and that system and those pumps-! 

And the toilets and showers - remind me - where do they drain?

It was a GREAT lesson.  Totally worthwhile!
And: He thinks the boat is in good shape. Solid.

So: In this whole process, there are definite moments of: WHAT are we THINKING?


The guy in blue, Henri, brought up the boat single-handedly. Drove that thing right across the road, too.

There are other moments, where, sitting on the aft deck in the shipyard, up some 18-20 feet in the air, drinking a glass of wine and watching the seagulls chase each other.

 - I'm glad we took the leap.


It doesn't look like it, but Stan is WAY above the water here! I can't believe they let us wander around unsupervised up here.

As the sun goes down over the Herault River and the Mediterranean - it seems like - even though we don't always feel comfortable with the whole process, it's working out. And: even if we left tomorrow, and never went a step further - it's already been a Magnificent Adventure!