T
he mighty Rhône forms a backbone
down France, stretching almost the
full distance from north to south, and
for us was the waterway equivalent of
the M1. Well, without the traffic jams,
or the roadworks. I was going to say
without the lorries but of course, the Rhône is plied
by many commercial vessels, something we newbie
liveaboards were constantly on the lookout for.
Another difference between the M1 and the river
is that there’s no hard shoulder to pull over on to in
the event of a breakdown, and we tried not to think
about what we’d do if the engine suddenly stopped
midstream. We had no secondary propulsion option,
though hoped that if necessary, we could use the
bow thruster to steer towards shore. Not that we’d
be calling the AA or RAC.
The Rhône also plays
another important role –
it provides cooling water
to six of France’s nuclear
power plants, and it was
towards one of these, at
Cruas, that we were now
headed in Liberty. As we
gently cruised further
south, the weather stayed
warm and balmy. “Likely
due to the intense
radioactivity,” I said to Liz.
“There probably won’t be
anyone at the power plant,”
I added. “There’ll just be a
sign saying ‘Gone Fission’.”
She went below; I think I
could hear her packing a suitcase.
We arrived at Cruas’s little port
in dramatic fashion; we’d been
warned that the marina entrance
faced downstream, so it was necessary
to go past and then swing hard to
starboard in a tight U-turn while at the
same time avoiding an old submerged
wall pinpointed by buoys. The wind
had picked up just as we arrived, so
Liberty’s engine got a good workout
as we executed the turn and gunned it against
the current, surging into the tiny harbour through
the narrow gap.
It wasn’t pretty, with tall electricity pylons
looming overhead and the nuclear power station’s
four imposing cooling towers just to the south,
but it was sheltered, and the man in charge of
the capitanerie was pleased to see us, especially
since he too owned an Aquanaut like ours. He did
a little jig on the pontoon to express his delight.
A few of the boats showed signs of life, including
one or two that were obviously liveaboards. One
of these looked permanent, as the owner had built
a special floating nesting box for a pair of geese
where his swim platform would have been. “Ahh,
that’s nice,” I cooed. “He must really like wildfowl.”
“Or foie gras,” snorted Liz.
“Maybe he’s just cultivating
his own supply!” Some people.
We stayed for three days, during
which the highlight for us was
exploring the remains of the 15th-
century town on the hillside. I say
remains but in fact, parts of it were
so neatly preserved that it lookedlike the occupants might have just nipped out to
milk the goat. It was extraordinarily picturesque,
and if you chose your spot carefully, you could get
a great photo showing only the old town framed
perfectly against the hillside, and not the ugly
quarry to the north or the even uglier power
plant just south.
We strolled the ancient cobbled streets, puffed
our way up to the castle, admired the views back
across the town to the river, and took endless
photos of charming old buildings, colourful
potted plants and centuries-old rooftops.
But our eyes were always drawn back to the
power station, the four enormous cooling towers
dominating both the landscape and the lives of the
people of Cruas. Risks aside, it must be a major
source of employment. We watched the plumes
of steam belching from the stacks and catching
the wind. “At least if there’s a meltdown we know
which way to run!” I said, joking of course, but at
the same time hoping that I wasn’t tempting fate.
Anyway, we had a very enjoyable few days at
the port, and I’m sure it had nothing to do with
the nuclear power plant that we left Cruas with
a warm glow.The man in charge of the capitanerie
was pleased to see us. He owned an
Aquanaut like Liberty, and did a little jig
on the pontoon to express his delight27MIKE BODNAR: The tiny port of Cruas on the Rhône, where a perfectly preserved medieval town
sits in the shadow of a vast nuclear power station, proves to be a strange but fascinating place to stop
THE L-PLATE
LIVEABOARDS
COLUMNSTHE L-PLATE
...if you ignore
the nuclear power
station next to itOld Cruas town
couldn’t be any
prettier...