We were an unlikely trio, meeting in the south of France to collect our rental boat: three female New Yorkers who shared a decades-long friendship and love of adventure, and not an ounce of boating experience among us.
Le Boat, Europe's largest inland self-drive cruising operation and part of the TUI Group, had assured us that no license was needed and that 60% of their customers have "no experience whatsoever."
And so, with visions of an idyllic float past sunflower fields and stone villages, we signed on for a one-week rental in early June. With 40 departure points in eight European countries, we chose France's most popular itinerary: the Canal du Midi, a Unesco World Heritage Site, in the country's most prolific wine-producing region of Languedoc.
With a leisurely 5 mph speed limit on the 300-year-old waterway, and with enough room for east- and westbound boats to pass each other (there is no commercial traffic on the canal, except for the occasional hotel barge), what could go wrong?
From Barcelona it was a two-hour train ride to our starting point of Narbonne, a handsome French city with ancient Roman roots on the Canal de la Robine, an offshoot of the Midi.
Le Boat’s Mystique-class barge, which sleeps six to eight people, is a 47-foot vessel with an upper and lower deck, three en suite cabins and a fully equipped galley kitchen.
Navigation 101
Narbonne (one of five Le Boat bases on the Midi) was home to our Mystique-category rental, a stylish, 47-foot cruiser with upper and lower decks, two steering wheels, three attractive en suite cabins and a fully equipped galley kitchen. Large enough to sleep six to eight, it was ambitiously grand for the three of us. We feverishly took notes during a crash-course demonstration on the basic principles of navigation. Apparently, there is a lot more to driving a boat than going forward and in reverse.
Le Boat's amiable technician stayed onboard to help us through the first of what would be countless locks before declaring us good to go, jumping ashore and confidently waving us off. Although aware of the Midi's locks system (les ecluses), both automatic and manually operated, we were oblivious of the actual number of them and the importance of good teamwork. Most lock chambers accommodate three boats, an especially tight and sometimes scary fit when the other two crews were as experience-challenged as we were. Our baptism by fire (or water) happened when a triple lock tested our mettle in those first intimidating hours.
A strictly enforced 7 p.m. closure of the locks dictates life on the canal. Our boat's comprehensive manual included a town-by-town rundown with the number of locks and distance (in kilometers and estimated travel time) between each, and what we could expect to find in terms of markets, restaurants, wineries, etc. But feeling too rattled to relax (we soon realized our seven-day itinerary would have worked better as a 10-day plan) and thrown off-schedule by the occasional lineup of boats waiting to access the locks, our first days were far from the leisurely holiday that we had imagined.
Tomata is a green barge docked near the town’s arched stone bridge where sailors can stock up on provisions as they continue down the Midi toward the ending point in Trebes.
Staying on schedule
We were free to create our own flexible schedule, but to reach our final destination in Trebes, a total of about 40 miles, every day we needed to cover a certain distance of the canal and the 30 locks that came with it. Leisurely days of wine tastings at canalside vineyards and exploratory bike rides were going to have to wait until next time.
We were only half-joking when we said that we would get the hang of it all on the day before we handed back the keys. Something as fundamental as steering was so evasive at first that maneuvering what felt like a Queen Elizabeth 2-size ship through very narrow and low-hanging bridges or into the lock chamber (where our boat wanted to veer left when our lock mates were screaming at us to go right) would send our stress levels firmly into the red.
For the most part, those stuck-in-time towns we looked forward to visiting turned out to be more than just sleepy. Restaurants recommended in our manual were closed, seemingly for the season, and vibrant markets teeming with just-picked produce and seasonal fruits were not to be found (small, conventional supermarkets provided us with provisions).
What we did find was a very genuine glimpse into small-town life, evening walks where we picked wild honeysuckle or happened upon a small, empty square lined by lilac-shuttered homes where old-timers played boules (a game similar to bocce). We sought out a small, unpretentious eatery by following signs through a wheat field. Christmas lights lent a festive air to an open terrace where we enjoyed the only thing on the menu, a simple but perfect goat-cheese salad accompanied by a local rose wine and the laughter of local families.
Serendipity did have us glide into some very special towns where we moored for the night (we sadly had to pass on a few charmers while attempting to make the next lock's 7 p.m. shutdown). Tiny Le Somail was just busy enough, with a clutch of ivy-covered alfresco restaurants to choose from. Tomata, a docked green barge near the town's arched stone bridge, sold a selection of local products and organic wines and fresh baguettes and croissants that we savored on our sundeck, our favorite spot of the boat.
Amazingly enough, our teamwork and boating skills did slowly improve, and we found ourselves giving direction and encouragement to others we passed who were still struggling. We were finally able to unwind and drink in the incredible scenery we had previously overlooked sailing down empty stretches of the winding canal under cathedral-like canopies created by mature plane trees (akin to American sycamores). Wherever there was a break in the foliage, we glimpsed neat rows of vineyards that extended up gentle hills and here and there a castle, an old monastery or a school group biking along the canal foot path.
The view of Carcassonne, France, from the Canal du Midi. It is known for Le Cite, its hilltop, medieval citadel.
Canal camaraderie
We received a lot of thumbs-up and "Where are your husbands?" comments from passers-by, so female-captained boats must be an uncommon sight. We met British, German, Scandinavian and Dutch skippers, but I don't believe we ever saw another American on the canal. When I asked Shannan Brennan, Le Boat's head of marketing for North America, about this, she explained that "the North American market has become extremely important for the growth of Le Boat. Between 2010 and 2015 we have seen a growth of 29% revenue." She added that "we rely on our customers as our greatest brand ambassadors." She can depend on me.
We pulled into Trebes with a full day to spare, calculated to allow us an unrushed visit to nearby Carcassonne. It's more than 3.5 hours by boat (eight miles and seven locks) from Trebes, so we moored our vessel and opted for a five-minute taxi ride instead.
Carcassonne's La Cite (as the hilltop citadel is known) was designated a Unesco World Heritage Site in 1997. That translates to millions of visitors every year, but we avoided them all and slipped into the cool baronial splendor of Hotel de la Cite, a five-star oasis in the shadow of the magnificent cathedral, to enjoy a glass of the local sparkling blanquette de Limoux.
No visit to Carcassonne is complete without sampling the regional specialty: a hearty and delicious cassoulet, preferably on the shaded terrace of the Brasserie Le Donjon, of the Best Western hotel by the same name, the four-star sister property of the Hotel de la Cite.
Happily sated, we arrived back at the Le Boat base for our final night, feeling with great nostalgia like some kind of epic journey was coming to an end. In fact we had only sailed about 40 miles in one week, yet Narbonne felt light years away. Whomever thought that a holiday with the odds stacked against us like the ramparts of Carcassonne would turn out to be such a winner?
Masters Series contributing editor Patricia Schultz is the author of "1,000 Places to See Before You Die."