A
mild night 11.7º C overnight. Hazy thin clouds, sunny. Set off at 8 a.m.
arrived at the junction with the Ostroda canal a few minutes later and waited
for the lock keeper to turn up. A middle aged guy came out of the house by the
lock and started talking to us in Polish. No English or German again. He
unlocked the shed by the lock and brought out windlasses, brushed the spider
webs from around the roof of the shed. He made sure we were tied to the post by
the lock mouth
using the entire length of my side rope. Then he filled the lock
using the single gate paddle and when it was full he wound the gate open using
a capstan which hauled the gate using a chain on a long wooden bar. There was a
problem, something he kept talking about, but what we couldn’t make out.
Eventually it dawned - we were too early - the lock didn’t open until 9.00 a.m.
(but was open until 7 p.m.) A younger bloke appeared, who also spoke no
English, with a
toddler in tow who clung to his leg and bawled “Papa” if he
moved too far away from him. He did the paperwork and asked Mike for 22,72 Złotys.
Waah! He wanted double the normal price for working the lock out of hours. Mike
went to back the boat out. We’ll wait until 9.00 a.m. No, no, they said, no need to do that and
worked the lock! Mike paid 12 Złotys, they’ve never got any change! The chamber
was long and narrow, 3.5m wide and 35m long, so we just about fit in it end
to
end with Rosy’s bows close up the side of our stern. On the lockside was a
memorial to Pope John-Paul II. The water in the chamber was full of all sorts
of muck, weeds and twigs and grass. We dropped down 3m and left the lock. Mike
noticed steam and no water coming out of our exhuast, so we had to stop while
he unblocked the intake pipe. At 9.30 a.m. we passed the trip boat Kormoran
heading uphill. The canal wound through a wooded cutting where we saw more red
deer in the woods. There were some really nice houses along the canal with some
very well-manicured gardens. It wasn’t far to the next lock, Zielona, which was
ready with the gates open, so we went in. The keeper came out of his very neat
and tidy lock house and muttered something and went to turn his red/green
lollipop sign (which had been red facing us as we came into the chamber)
indicating that we’d gone in against a red sign. Wonderful! No one else uses
the
damned things here, only him! He was OK really, just making a point. His
missus came out to see the funny boats, she was really chatty, pity she didn’t
speak English. She said her “Baby” spoke English, learned it at school. We
wondered how old “Baby” was! The keeper went off to sort out someone who’d
arrived in a car and kept pip-pipping on the horn, so his wife opened the gate
for us. We’d dropped down another 1.3m. Out into a lovely winding canal
through
meadows and woodland to the next lake, Drweckie. It was 11.15 a.m. and the only
other vessels on the lake were a two man kayak, a small powered fishing boat
and a single seater canoe. Poking up over the tops of the trees we could see
the church spires and chimneys of Ostroda. We went under a low bridge, 3.2m
high – mast down, and ran into Ostroda. There was a wonderful long concrete
quay without bollards. A section of quay with bollards and no
mooring signs at
either end of them (for the trip boats) plus a pier for pedestrians which was
not designed to have boats tie to it as it had the ends of timber beams
sticking out every couple of metres. A small yacht had tied to the end of a
high wooden landing, which was also for the use of the passenger boats. We took
photos to show we’d been there and headed off into the canal. Under another low
bridge and past a basin and dry dock, where there were several passenger boats
moored. A short channel lead to Ostroda lock, where a pleasant lady keeper was
letting a waterways power boat (the winged variety) out of her lock. We went
in. The
next two locks were uphill and too short to accommodate us both at the
same time. The gates were wooden mitre gates at either end, opened by lifting
up a yellow painted wooden bar which was attached to the gate and heaving on
it. Gate paddles on each gate for filling and emptying the little lock, a mere
26m long by 3.3m wide. The lady keeper wore green short dungarees and was
followed everywhere by a pink and
black cat! Dropped ropes on stumps of
cut trees
above the lock and Mike went back to lend a hand and help lock Rosy
through. I took a few photos. Bill paid for the uphill lock. At 12.50 p.m. we
were on our way again. The navigation widened out, we went under a modern
concrete bridge and there was a lake off to our left, although the depth was
less than two metres and the channel marked with red and green cans. It was
getting hotter. The lake was empty except for a few mallard and grebe. While I
was preparing lunch Mike saw a snake go swimming past. Another lady keeper
worked the next
lock, Mała Ruś, which was the same as Ostroda lock, but a
little shorter. We went up another 1.7m, but this time there was nowhere to tie
up and assist the keeper to work the lock for Rosy, as the right bank was too
shallow and the left had overhanging trees and the lockside was fenced off
anyway. Bill paid for up and down. We waited for Rosy in the canal above the
lock. It was 1.45 p.m when we left the lock. 2 p.m. when we set off again. The
canal was clean enough to see the bottom. We passed three fishermen fishing by
a winding hole. Beyond the fishermen all the
way to the lake there thousands of
2” long fish. We turned right on to Szelag Wielkie at 2.30 p.m. heading
southeast along a wide deep lake with forested steep banks. The was just one
man fishing from the far bank and a couple of kids on the right hand bank.
Apart from them the lake was EMPTY. A couple of small farmhouses were located
on the right bank. We tried fruitlessly for over half an hour to find somewhere
on the left side to tie up under the trees in breaks in the reedbeds. The banks
shelved out to two metres, before plunging to a depth of 65 metres, (according
to a booklet we bought later), too shallow too far out for a plank. Bill tried
the left hand bank (and had the same problems), while we stooged up the right
bank until shallows
stretching halfway across the lake forced us to go back to
the left side too. We trundled on right to the end of the lake (or so we
thought) until our bows were against the bank and the rest of the boat was in
seven metres of water. In front of us was a main road, the 7, and a layby with
a café bar and a small culvert under the road leading to the last bit of the
lake. The end of the line! From here it’s turn round and go back the way you
came. Bill arrived and we went a little ways back down the lake to a campsite
where there was an L-shaped wooden decking on top of oil barrels. As we tied to
it a man came out saying no, no, you can’t tie up here. It’s private. All this
in Polish, but then he managed a few words of English to explain that it wasn’t
a campsite - that was next door - and we couldn’t tie on the pontoon as it
belonged to all the residents of a chalet site. Try next door. We did. They
came out saying no, we couldn’t tie on their landing either, as the boats were
too big and heavy and if the wind blows it will take us and the landing away.
We couldn’t explain to the guy, (as he spoke no English), that we were going to
lie along each side of his jetty and tie the boats together and put anchors out
the back, which meant we wouldn’t be putting any strain on his jetty at all.
Bill tried to get close to the bank by the trees, but couldn’t get within 5
metres. We gave up and went back to the end of the lake and tied either side of
a short public landing with the bows tied together across the wooden decking,
our side rope round one of the wooden legs of the jetty, and anchors out from
the stern. While we were tying up a guy arrived in a car and came to apologise.
He was the brother of the campsite owner who was concerned because he couldn’t
communicate with us about his worries about his jetty (which I thought probably
only ever gets used by his patrons for jumping off to go swimming or lying on
to sunbathe). Whilst knotting ropes I told him we’d planned to anchor and not
damage his jetty – just to use it as an access to the bank – but we were OK
where we were. He said there was a track from by the café down to the site and
we could use any of their facilities if we wanted to. I thanked him for his
kind offer. He also said that there was a little channel by the side of the
bungalow park leading to the rest of the lake beyond the road. I had thought it
looked overgrown and shallow, he it was OK lots of boats go up there. We’ll
have another look next day. It was 5 p.m. Mike went to have a look at the channel from the road. He said he was going
for a cold beer in the café, so after I’d packed up and tidied up I went to
join him. I met him coming back down the road from looking at the way into the
next lake. The traffic on the 7 was complete madness. As I walked up the slope
to meet Mike there was a large 4x4 overtaking a line of cars, going up the hill
over cross-hatching and then stayed on the wrong side of white lines. As I
walked back with Mike there was a lorry coming downhill overtaking some slow
Fiats (very popular little car here) doing the same. Crazy! He noise was
deafening. We went in the bar and had draught beer at 3,50 Zł (56p) for a half
litre. It was ice cold, tasty and – I found out after I’d drunk it – very strong
stuff. Mike had a couple, I’d had enough after one. I went back to cook dinner.
He came back and ate his dinner and went back with Bill for another couple of
cold ones. I put the PC on to try and get up to date with the log – fighting a
losing battle! The bar closed at 8.30 p.m. The proprietor said he’d only be
closed for an hour and gave Mike a free beer, but when Mike went back later the
bar was still closed. Mike found the last bottle of
Erben Spätlese (our favourite German white wine) in our store cupboard and we sat
on the stern to drink it, listening to music on Radiozet and watching
lightening in the distance.
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