7/31/2019 The Australian_Freediving in Lake Malawi

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AFLOATDESTINATION

MAY 26-27, 2012

SURFING THE NET{P6}ARCTIC NORWAYS LOFOTEN ISLANDS{P7}CELEBRITY CHEFS AT SEA{P11}

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PICTURES:FREEWHEELAFLOAT.COM

Riverboat journeysthroughthe Burgundyregion allow visitorsto enjoy theprettycountryside ata walkingpaceandto pause forrefreshmentatrusticvillages

French canal therapyA slow boat through Burgundy is just the ticket for novice sailorsSTANLEY STEWART

StanleyStewart spins thecaptains wheel onthe Yonne

Itmaynotbeatrans-Atlanticcrossingbut boatingdoesnt get muchsweeter thanthis

I USED to think of myself as asailor. There was never a greatdeal of evidence for this beyond afew outings in a canoe but some-how I always imagined myself incharge of a great yacht, crossingthe Pacific, wiping the spray frommy eyes while spinning thecaptainswheel.

The dream took a knock a fewyears ago when I crossed the

Atlantic. Mercifully someone else wasdoing the wheelspinning. Forthree days we suffered force-8gales.Istillhavenightmaresaboutthe waves, their crests taller thanthe ship. The waves made mere-evaluate my nautical fantasies, which is what has brought me tothe canals of France, becausecanals offer boating in a wave-free environment.

I have booked a barge in Bur-gundy, home to some of Francesmostidylliccanals,foratripontheYonne from Vermenton to StFlorentin. The boat is a classicFrench peniche with the lines of atraditional barge and fitted forlive-aboardcruising.

Insideits caravanchic wood veneers,dinkycurtains, banquetteseating, airconditioning, and a built-inCD player.

French barges are wide- beame d and the ensui te ca binsand well-equipped kitchen feelsurprisinglyspacious.Outside,thepeniche has allthe stuffto cater tosailingfantasiesmooringropes,an anchor, a gangplank and, bestofall,apropershipswheelforme

to spin. There is also a deck mop, whichwill proveinvaluable.

While French barges are notexactly oil tankers, steeringinitiallycanbeabittricky.Thereisa telling delay between turningthe wheel and the boat beginningto change direction. On the firstmorning, with an excessive (poss-ibly hysterical) amount of wheelspinning, the barge veers drunk-enly from one bank to another. Itisnt so much navigating as cross-stitching. I see fishermen on the

banks ahead ret reat ing to thesafetyofchestnutwoods.

The mop comes to my rescue.Lashed to the bow, it acts as asighter, a vertical referenceagainst which I can more clearlydiscern the bows movements.

Passing boatmen gaze at mynavigational aid with expressionsranging from the quizzical to theopenly mocking but I have thesatisfactionof gettingintothe firstlock without taking out the lock-keepers cottage.

With the navigation cracked, Iturn my gaze to the landscape. Indeepest Burgundy, the Yonnemeanders through absurdlyprettylandscapes, thebankslined with vineyards , sloping fields of maize and yellow corn, deep woods and slu mberi ng ston e village s wher e chur ch bel ls tol lthe hours.

The joy of the barge is that myfriend and I can enjoy the

countryside at walking pace withouthaving todo thewalking.Wesit withourfeetup, basking

in midsummer sun, making anoccasional adjustment to the wheel as the mop dictates , whilethelandscapeunfoldsaroundus.

In the late afternoons we moor by vi llag es w here count ry re s-taurants await with their simpleeveningmeals.

In the mornings we take the bicycles down from the roof rackand cycle to village boulangeriesforwarm croissants.

Incenturiespastthiscanaltookstone,woodandwinetoParis.Thestone, a soft, malleable limestone, wasused tocarve thegargoyles onthefaceof NotreDame.Thewood beca me t he r oof r afte rs u nder whic h ar tis ts, in thei r g arre ts,struggled with masterpieces andrentpayments.

Thewinewasprimarilychablis.Before the building of the rail- ways, whic h opened ot her wineareas to Paris, this canal ensuredchablis was the white wine atalmosteveryParisianlunchtable.

The Yonne curves round the

chablis terroir. In Vincelles weabandon our boat to pace around vineyardswith FranckChretien, a wine guide, discuss ing soil, rain-fall, grape varieties and south-facingslopes.

From a high viewpoint on theedgeofpine woods,we lookdownover oneof the great Frenchwinepanoramas the seven clima orplots of Chablis Grand Cru, plan-ted more than 1000 years ago byCistercianmonks.

Every voyage has a Major Port(capitals intended), and ours isAuxerre, a town of narrow lanesandhalf-timbered houses.

The mooring on the Yonneoffers the best view, with the

cathedral and the old abbey of St Germain sailing above therooftops like galleons. Evening isspreading across the river. Weopen a bottle of chablis and dineon deck as the lights come on inthedarkening houses.

As we tuck into dessert, Aux-erressonetlumiereshowkicksoff and we find ourselves with ring-side seats for a drama that runsfromJoanofArcthroughLouisIVtoNapoleon.

From Auxerre we sail down-stream, past the flower-decked villa ge of Mon eteau , bene ath asuspension bridge built by Gus-tave Eiffel, past a family picnick-ing like an Edouard Manet paint-ingcometo life.

We round a series of grassy ri- ver be nds whe re fi sherme n arefalling asleep over their lines.WemoorforlunchinGurgy.

Foramomentthevillageseemsempty, an unused stage set for apre-war French film. Then sud-denly people appear, coming infromthevineyards,from outlying villages, from the riverb anks forlunch at the Restaurantde la Riv-

iere, where the cuisine and cus-tomersare timelesslyprovincial.

On through the afternoon wesail down long avenues of reflec-tions clouds, trees, fishermen,houses, church spires upendedand trembling across the surfaceofthewater.

In the late afternoon, as theshadows lengthen and swallowsskimthesurface,wemoorin ruralseclusion.

The moon rises through thetrees, polishing the canal with asilversheen.

Isitoutondecklisteningtotheowlshootinginthe woods.

It may not be a trans-Atlanticcrossing but boating doesnt get

muchsweeterthanthis.Stanley Stewart was a guest of Freewheel Afloat.

Checklist

Thereare twooptions onFrenchcanals anall-inclusivecrewedcruiseor self-skipper.FreewheelAfloatoffersboth,includingaseven-nightrentalofa self-driveLinssenmotorcruiser, whichsleepsfour;boatsareavailablefrombases atAnjouandtheCanaldu Midi,andtwoinBurgundy.FreewheelAfloat alsohasa seven-daycruiseitineraryonthe upperBurgundycanalaboard the12-passengerLaBelleEpoque.More:freewheelafloat.com.FrenchTravelConnectionhasanofferof atleast$899offa twin-sharecabinon awiderangeof crewedcruises,includingLaBelleEpoque.To securethe discount, bookby May31 forselecteddeparturedates to October.More:1300 858304;frenchtravel.com.au.

Spellbound in thedepths of Lake MalawiTHE INCIDENTAL TOURIST

MATTHEW CROMPTON

LakeMalawiprovides instantrewards forthe novicediver

Forlong secondsin thatperfectstillnessit isasiftimehas ceasedto exist

IFLOATsilentlyinclear,deep wateramong thehuge greyrocksatOtterPointonthesouthernedgeofLakeMalawiinthediminutive Africannation of thatname.Iamnearlymotionless,my heartbeat becomingslower andslower.

Mymouthtastesof thecheapplasticof myrentedsnorkelandasI listentothesoftwhooshof bloodin myears, Ikeep thinking backto whata skindivertold me justweeks ago.

Withhismaskpusheduponhisforeheadaswe weretreading

waterin theblinding Africansunlight,hesaid,Allfreedivingismental.Thefirsttimeyougodown,youreafraidandyouonlystayabout20 seconds.Thenexttimeyourelaxalittle,andyoucanstaytwiceaslong.Afterthatthirddive,yourenotjusttryingtogetbacktothesurface. . .youcanlookaroundandstayand justbe.

Withhiswordsinmindandthewaterlikeaninfinitebluefieldaroundme,I hangbuoyantonthesurface,mybodycurledintoaballandresting,myeyesclosed.Witha fewdeepbreathstofloodmycellswithoxygen,Iuncurl,thenturnandkickdownfromthesurface,my eyeshalf-closedas ifin meditation,mymindemptied.

WhenIreachthebottom,perhaps6mor7mdown,Ipinchmynoseandblowouttoequalisethepressureinmyears,thenturnovertolookatthesweepofrocksandledges

above,thesmallfishhangingagainstthelightlikeconstellations,the distanthorizonofthesurfacelikeacompletelyotherworld.

Everythinghappensin one breathand theentire momentissobeautifullymeasuredandcontained.

Iswimbetweenthehugesubmergedboulders,kickthrougha narrowcanyonandthen,as Irise,feelingthefirstspasminmydiaphragmbutnourgencyat all,pauseata ledge wherea schoolof stripedcichlidsis feedingagainstthemossyrocks.

Iambeginningtofeelarealpangofbreathhunger,but Ipushittothesideofmymind.I

watchthe brilliantfish, allsapphirescales andiridescentdragonfly-blue,calmlyfeedingonlycentimetresfrommy maskasif Iwereinvisibleandnotsomegigantic intruderfromanotherworld.

Forlongsecondsinthatperfectstillnessitisasiftimehasceasedtoexist.Fisharenippingattherocksin bladesof straw-colouredsunlightandIfeelutterlyweightless.

Withthesurfacesuddenlylookingleaguesaboveme,Itiltmyheadandmakeasinglestrongscissor-kick,mybodyrisinglikeatorpedo.

Fivesecondslater,Ibreakthesurfaceintothebrightsunlight, butwait justa beatlonger beforeItastetheair.Idontwantto breakthe spell justyet.