So, to delay the inevitable departure, I busied myself by doing a few jobs on the boat after breakfast, while Rita continued studying. Firstly, I had noticed that the water pump seemed to be running for longer and longer after closing the tap, so I experimented with different air pressures in the accumulator, all to no avail.

I had also noticed when we were making the run from Besançon a couple of days ago that we were not making as good a speed as I expected given the engine revs. So I thought I should check the prop, by opening the weedhatch and taking a look. As suspected, there was lots of crap wrapped around the prop and driveshaft (left, below). So I got my trusty rope knife and hacked into it, pulling all the rubbish up through the weed hatch into a bucket. Afterwards, the prop was a lot cleaner (right, below).

When I emptied the bucket of rubbish and spread it out on the stone mooring, I was surprised at the contents. Apart from the usual grass and weeds, there was a long piece of wire, lots of plastic twine, and shredded parts of a plastic tarpaulin, complete with metal eyelet (centre,left). Now I know why we were running slow!

The morning greeted us with clear skies, and we really didn't want to leave the barrage mooring (but we knew we must). It was going to be difficult saying goodbye to our heron friends, who had already taken up fishing positions on the barrage, and the serene views up the river.

But all good things must come to an end, and I had run out of odd jobs to do for the moment, so in late-morning we pulled away and said goodbye to our barrage mooring (but as Churchill, or Macarthur or some other military person said, We Shall Return).

As we passed through the flood gates and looked ahead, we saw a town perched high on a hill that we had not noticed before. It would have been a bit of a slog cycling up there on the bikes, but it looked like it might have been worth the effort.

As we approached Ecluse 58A at Rosets, we were caught by a hire-boat with two Swiss couples aboard, so we moved to the front of the lock and let them come in behind us. Rita had a bit of a chat with them, but when we left the lock we let them go ahead of us, since we wanted to slow down and take our time as we cruised along the river. However, as we approached Ecluse 59 at St Vit, we realised that they were stationary and we were catching them quickly. When we pulled up alongside them, they explained that their zapper did not appear to be working (or at least it wasn't being registered) and so we pulled ahead of them to see if our zapper worked OK. When we got close to the lock, we realised that ours was also not being recognised, so we phoned VNF to notify them of the problem. However, since it was now lunch-break time, we didn't expect a quick response, so we pulled over and tied ourselves to some roadside railings (since the moorings at St Vit had now been removed), whereupon Rita got off the boat and walked back to where the Swiss were moored to let them know what was going on. Naturally, as soon as she got there and started to get engaged in a conversation, the VNF van arrived and soon had the gates opening. I tried shouting to Rita to return to the boat, but I was shouting into the wind and not being heard. I then tried our air-horn, but that also was attracting no attention. So I thought I'd try a visual clue, that Rita might she if she looked my way, by releasing the stern rope from the railings and pushing the stern away from the shore. Within a couple of minutes, Rita turned my way, saw the stern mid-stream and me waving my arms frantically and realised she should return to the boat. We entered the lock first, followed by the Swiss, and had a gentle ride down.

They followed us to the next ecluse at Dampierre, after which we again let them pass as we tied up at the waiting pontoon for some lunch and a swim for Rita.

After lunch, we continued on and passed the Swiss at Ranchot where they had moored for the rest of the day; but we had other plans. As we passed through Orchamps, we again noticed how low the water level was in this region, and how weedy the sides of the canal were, with only about one-third of the canal width available for safe navigation. We continued on to Rochefort-sur-Nenon, where we had seen some good moorings on the way up river last week. The Guide Fluviale shows two sets of moorings, but we now realised that the northern moorings were, in fact, private. So we continued on, in the hope of getting something at the southern mooring. When we got there we saw that there was already one boat moored there, but there looked like there was some space behind him at the southern end of the mooring. So we did a 180 degree turn and came in behind him. There was not quite enough space, but by hanging our tail out over the end of the mooring, we were able to fit. Phew! The mooring at Rochefort was very pleasant, adjacent to parkland, with lots of shade trees and even picnic tables.

As Rita entered the water after lunch, we realised that she was surrounded by a school of small black fish. No matter where she swam around the boat, the fish followed. If she had been able to stay still for long, we were sure they would have given her skin a good nibbling and cleaning.

The parkland was backed by some very steep cliffs, which I appreciated more fully when I went for a walk a little while later, and saw that the cliffs were very popular with rock-climbers. As I left for my walk, this young girl was just starting a climb (left, below), with the help of an instructor and rope-holder. But she seemed to be having trouble just getting to the first seam in the rock just a couple of metres off the ground. When I returned about an hour later, she had shown that she was no amateur, and had climbed to about 20 metres off the ground.

I continued my walk around the town, and on walking up a little hill at the back of the town, I found it led to a park and lookout (belvedere), which gave some great views of the river and the valley beyond.

While the panorama shot above captures the overview of the scene, it doesn't really capture the spirit of the river as well as the close-up shots below, with a boat travelling south, and the barrage just across from our mooring.

I thoroughly enjoyed the walk along the ridge of the cliffs and could easily have walked for much longer, but I could sense that sunset was approaching, so I returned to the security of the barge to watch the darkening sky with the new moon, and to appreciate a cool glass of Rosé.