Hot and sunny, a few white clouds, nice stiff breeze in the afternoon; very hot and sticky first thing. Four hireboats had already gone past before we set off at ten. Just round the first bend we saw a big boat moored, a Dutch Barge with its registered port as Road Harbour BVI (British Virgin Islands!) On the last but one bend before Capestang there were three dead boats moored, including a fat narrowboat with a tall wooden mast and boom for lifting a small boat on and off the roof. Just after ten we pulled in between the hireboats moored before the first bridge in Capestang to buy some bread. A French bloke, walking a little black Staffordshire bull terrier, told us how people don’t bang their pegs in well enough and fast passing boats rip them out! Yes, we knew all about that and as we were only stopping ten minutes there was no need to do that. Several boats went by and a couple of walkers during the fifteen minutes before Mike returned. There were two unoccupied boats at the end of the line of hireboats before the bridge; the moorings in town were more or less full. Several blue monsters from Moissac were among the rest of the France Fluviale hire boats at their base along the left bank. A dead narrowboat was moored on the right bank among the other dead boats, most of which were second hand hireboats. A sign on the left bank said only boats over 15m long but the moorings were full of much shorter boats than that and only two Dutch Barges were moored at the end on that side. On the right we saw our little Italian man from Florence, beaming and waving as we passed. I asked if they were enjoying their holiday and he said yes, very much; the rest of the family were in town shopping. A British hotel boat was moored at Port Guery at the end of a line of dead boats and a couple of other Dutch Barges, a new British one plus a dead one. A hireboat was catching us up - some Brits on a LeBoat - we called them past as soon as there was a long enough straight stretch.
A white admiral butterfly landed on the slide. I fed it some tea, which it slurped up eagerly! The Brits were taking on water at Poilhès from the coin in the slot tap as we passed them. More dead boats, a cruiser from Zwolle, a British cruiser with a full sized Ensign and a hotel boat. At KP196 another hotel boat was moored beyond the village’s spectacular row of canons; it was a really beautiful boat. In Malpass a French family were looking through the short tunnel from the far end; there were flashes from ‘phones or cameras as we went through. Shortly after we passed a Minervois narrowboat (hireboat) going in the opposite direction. A large cruiser had moored on the stumps before the tunnel; we wondered if they would take the hot and dusty trail up to the top of the hill to see the archaeological site of Enersunes and enjoy the view over the drained lake of Montardy. Colombiers was, like all the villages on the long pound nowadays, filled with old hireboats and a few new ones. An Australian couple with an old Rive de France ex-hireboat we’d seen the day before were moored in the basin; a little further down the basin were loads of its new cousins awaiting hirers. Into a narrow section (the sign said, it didn’t look that much narrower to us) for the next 2 kms. Avonbay passed us going in the opposite direction. (The first time we’d ever seen it) We didn’t have time to think of something to say and none of the three blokes on board looked anything like Hugh McKnight (famous English writer of canal books)! The guy steering was very large and didn’t resemble Human Night at all. (Someone told us later that the boat had been sold twice since he had it) A little further on we passed a converted full length péniche moored in the narrow section. We weren’t sure if the canal was in a cutting or the banks had been artificially made higher to shelter towing animals from the Mistral wind. The Brits caught us up as we were looking for a reasonable mooring at 2.15 p.m. they were doing likewise as Mike reversed, so they moved on a bit although the guy said we ought to moor opposite one another to narrow the cut a little, perhaps it might make ‘em slow down a bit. Fat chance. No sooner had we tied to the trees and roots than a hotel boat went steaming past at full chat. Mike went out to remonstrate and had the French equivalent of a two finger salute. Mike shouted that he was surprised at the steerer as he should have known better and received another French two finger salute. The hire boat crew on the other bank (who had moored a little bit further down the canal) had to put their mooring stakes back in as the passing hotel boat had just ripped them out. After lunch Mike set the dish up at the top of the bank (which bordered a vineyard) and I stayed on board to plug things in and shout when he’d found the right satellite, etc. I opened all the starboard side windows and took the hoppers out as the wind had started blowing quite strongly which was bringing some relief from the heat. A British hotel boat went past heading for Fonserannes; Mike had a chat with the steerer - in French? There seemed to be quite a few hireboats also heading for the flight. At 6.35 p.m. a scruffy looking péniche went past heading uphill, was it really trading? It had lots of oil drums stacked up on the deck, masses of ropes hanging in coils from all its bollards and a small boat hanging from davits at the back. Difficult to say for sure. We hoped so.
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