Wednesday 17 August - out of water, fill up in Buzet, fall in the water at Buzet


We awoke the next morning to a strange intermittent sound. Not knowing what it was, we got up and decided to have an early coffee. It was at that point that we discovered that all the water we took on in Caumont two days ago was now gone - the water tank was empty! We then realised that the strange noise we had heard was the water pump, and that it must have been going on and off all night, gradually emptying the tank. We didn't know why this had happened, but it had. So, our first task for the day was to find some place to re-fill the water tank. After talking with Stuart, we decided that the best thing to do was to go to Buzet (we were headed in that direction anyway) and fill up there.

We stopped at the Buzet port we had stayed at earlier, but the port captains had not yet arrived and the water taps were locked. So we moved on to the main Buzet port that we had come through a few days earlier. We enquired at the Capitainerie, and they advised us to tie up at the main dock in front of their office and fill up with water there. They were so nice and hospitable that we decided to stay the night.

After filling the water tank, and having a light lunch on board, we got ready to cycle back to Damazan to meet with the second agent. And that's when the shit hit the fan!

There are episodes in your life when you look back at them and see, oh so clearly, how they could have been avoided. The events of the next 15 minutes clearly fit into that category. As we set off in the midday sun to ride to Damazan, Rita rode ahead of me along the boardwalk around the capitainerie. I wondered at the time whether I should wheel my bike instead of riding it, but she was already off and away, so I followed suit. As I got near the end of the boardwalk, I saw a white line painted along the edge (at right angles and to the left of my direction of travel) to warn pedestrians of a drop down to another walkway at the level of the boats. What I didn't see (until the last moment) was a drop from the part of the boardwalk that I was riding on, which was not marked with a white line. In the bright sun, all the parallel planks in the two levels of the boardwalk looked to be at the same level. At the last moment, I saw a 20cm drop from my level down to the lower level. I quickly steered my front wheel around the corner on the top level, but realised there was no way that the rear wheel would follow in that direction. So I prepared for a small bump! Unfortunately, having leant to the left to get the front wheel to go right, the small bump was more than a small bump! The back wheel dropped, I continued to the left, coming to earth on the lower deck (so far, so good, I remember thinking). Unfortunately, momentum has a way of making things keep on going in the direction they are going. As I hit the deck, my feet went in the air with the pedals, and the bike frame continued a graceful roll in an arc over the top, until it had reached its zenith, whereupon it continued going over me and into the canal, dragging me in after it.

I went down a bit, but didn't touch the bottom, then rose to the surface, grabbing the deck with my left hand and holding onto the bike frame underwater with my right. The noise of my falling attracted some attention, especially from Rita who had ridden ahead (sadly she didn't have a camera ready to record the event!). She and a few boaters rushed dockside to try getting me out (since there was no way I could climb out myself, especially holding the bike). After taking the bike, they then hauled me out. The situation was so bizarre, it was all I could do to stop myself from laughing. It was then that I realised that I had lost my Swiss Railways watch which must have been torn from my wrist when I hit the deck. Rita then asked about my iPhone which I had in my pocket. Clearly, it was stuffed, like the one that went through the washing machine last year. But apart from a few scratches and a huge loss of dignity, I was OK. So, a quick shower, a change of clothes, and we were off again on our bikes (more carefully this time) to Damazan for the property inspections, which turned out to be fairly unproductive!

That evening, while recovering from the day's events, we heard a knock on the door of Kanumbra, and met Peter Bobbington (from Fremantle) who had seen our stern flag flying and had come over to introduce himself (their boat Flamingo is the blue and white one on the left of the photo above). We had a long chat and found out that he was the person who introduced "2-dollar shops" to Australia. Since retiring, he and his wife had been touring the world, including spending 5 years on the European canals. We bade him farewell and headed into Buzet to grab something to eat. The choice of venues was not great, and so we ended up at the cafe we had sampled a few days earlier. A few hours later, we saw Peter and Pam enter the cafe, so we invited them to chat and have dessert and coffee. They turned out to be a very interesting and funny couple, and in their travels they had made friends with Simon Piper, the builder of our barge.

One of the nice things about barging is the ease with which you can make friends. People just drop by for a chat, and then you discover you have some common interests, and away you go. And if you find that they are not to your liking, no problems: either you or they will be heading off in a different direction in a day or so! But if you click, then you make sure you find a way to keep in touch.