20.08 – Down, but not Out
29 August 2020 | Picture: Egret (by G. Einefors)
The convoy we were due to join was scheduled to arrive at 1600 in Motala, where we were waiting with Stormhatt. Her owner phoned the office to learn that actually there were to be no other boats apart from us. We had expected a lock-keeper to come and brief us but, when we saw the lights indicating an impending bridge lift, we decided we ought to get moving. We entered the first lock where Linus was waiting. We expressed concern about the weed we'd seen, but he assured us it shouldn't be a problem. We proceeded for 2 miles along the canal, through a railway bridge, two more road bridges and two cycle/foot bridges, until we reached the top of the Borenshult staircase. The echo-sounder was often recording zero depth under our keel as we moved over and through the weed, and we could feel it slowing us down.
Going down in the locks requires a different technique from going up. The warps need to be passed through the mooring rings because both have to be paid out as the boat descends. The shore-crew has to be on board before the lock is emptied because there is no way of getting back on afterwards. Flights of locks are a bit different as it is possible for the crew member to walk from lock to lock carrying both lines, but the steep slopes and obstacles make this quite tricky. Luckily, our friends on Stormhatt were on hand to help out. We finally emerged out of the fifth lock onto little Lake Boren at 1755. It was about 6 miles from one end to the other and, disappointingly, we continued to have problems with weed in the shallow water. It was beginning to get dark by the time we had berthed at the brygga in Borensburg.
Day four in the schedule was for a 26-mile journey through 17 locks, expected to take 10 hours. And the forecast was lousy. I had flushed out the engine cooling water strainer which had been clogged with vegetable matter, and in the morning light we could see a dense mat of weed beneath Egret's hull. The lock-keeper arrived at 0900 and asked us to set off immediately through the first bridge. We cast off and found we could barely move, let alone steer, and it was with some difficulty that we managed to get back alongside. Our rudder was completely wrapped up in weed. We called the lock-keeper back, and he pretty much told us it was our problem to sort out. After some discussion, he made a phone call and said that someone from the maintenance department would come to see us. Stormhatt's owner was keen to get going since his smaller boat was having fewer problems, and it was a definite moment of despair as we watched them set off without us.
We pumped up the dinghy to get up close and assess the situation underwater through our 'looky bucket' (a bucket with a glass bottom). Then Torbjörn, the maintenance man, arrived carrying a 5m long grappling-pole. We used it to haul out barrow loads of weed from around our keel, sail-drive and rudder. He made some more phone-calls and kindly offered to accompany us as lock-operator himself, and also allowed us to keep the long pole until the end of the canal. We agreed to give it a go, but reckoned it would be impossible to get all of the way before dark.
It must have been about 1030 when we set off again, and by now the rain was coming down in stair-rods. After Borensberg lock, there was an 11-mile level stretch through agricultural land, running parallel to the Motala Ström, which passes through a series of small lakes. We didn't really get to appreciate the views, however, as we had to concentrate on finding a way through. One of us stood at the bow to point out rafts of floating vegetation which the helmsman tried to avoid. We had to stop and go astern on many occasions in an effort to clear the weed from our hull appendages. The best speed we could achieve was between 2 and 3 knots. We were both getting chilled to the marrow by the rain and stiff north-easterly wind, and there wasn't even an opportunity to get a mug of coffee.
We were at our lowest ebb as we approached the first of three sets of double locks. We were puzzled as to why two figures chose to be out in the rain taking photos of us; that was until we realised they were our cruising friends, Göran and Gudrun. We had first met them in the Marquesas Islands and last seen them two years later in the Azores, in 2015. We were due to meet them anyway in a week's time, but they thought they'd come early to surprise us! They'd been following our AIS trail, but it had required some detective work to actually find us on the day. It cheered us up no end to see them, and their help was invaluable in negotiating the remaining locks, particularly because the rain made the lock-sides so slippery.
We exited the final Berg lock into a large basin at 1745, tied up alongside in the gästhamn and waved farewell to Göran and Gudrun, who were late for a crayfish-party at their daughter's home. This was as far as we would be able to go that day, barely half way along the leg, with still another 14 miles and eight locks to go. We hoped we'd be able to join the next convoy in two days time, but Torbjörn wasn't so sure and, being a Saturday, there wouldn't be anyone at the canal company's office until Monday to tell us.