French Boating - First Lock

Pay Attention, Lads
I remember bits and pieces of a childhood trip along the canals of England but nothing about navigating a lock. Within twenty minutes we reached the first of thirteen downhill locks. There was a red light because it was filling. Obviously, we were behind someone who'd recently gone through.

Henry drove in slowly and edged the boat towards one side. I was manning the front and Wayne was midship, we each had a rope, the ends of which were attached to the boat with intricate knots. We were to "slip" the ropes around the lock ballards - nobs of steel protruding from the ground. Once we were secure, Henry jumped off and pulled on a blue cord attached to a pole. This signals the lock to close behind us - they're all automated now, no more hand cranking them closed.

All nautical words seem to have a precise meaning. "Slipping" a rope around a ballard means something specific: putting the rope around the back of the ballard and holding an end in each hand. No noose, no knot, just slip it around the back of the ballard and slowly let out slack as the boat drops. The reason for slipping is to keep the boat in a fixed spot, against the lock wall, the boat's side protected by thick rubber balloons called fenders. This was especially important because our mast was protruding four feet off the back of the boat. If we didn't keep the boat perfectly aligned along the lock wall we could snap off the back of the mast.

We dropped faster than I expected. The entry lock looked like it was going to burst and drown us. The exit lock opened automatically and we each then whipped our ropes off the ballards to release ourselves. This looked easier than it was - the ballards were now ten feet above, unseen.