The Captainerie, Gendamerie and the Stolen Phone

As we emerge from our cabins on the last morning in Capestang, it's a fresh 11 degrees. The sky is a crisp blue, without a cloud in sight. Robyn decides to walk to the next village where we will moor and heads off just after breakfast. The rest of the crew has a more leisurely start to the day and slowly ticks off tasks required before casting off. We refill the water tank here, which should be the only occasion we are required to do so. We disconnect the water hose, unplug the shore power, cast off, and we're away. Poilhes isn't too far down the canal, and only a few minutes out of Capestang, Robyn messages us that she has arrived and advises where the best mooring position is. The message is sent with a picture: "It's just out front of the restaurant. I'm here having coffee." As we arrive, Robyn wanders down to help tie up, and we return to the restaurant for coffee.

Poilhes is very small, and it doesn't take us long to survey the entire village. As we walk past the small village center, we notice a few people setting up a stage and racked seating. Upon inquiry, we discover there is going to be a performance here tonight of circus, dance, and live music. Tickets are limited to 150 at €12 each, so we secure four and continue on. A lazy, long lunch is enjoyed at the restaurant just across from our mooring. Heading back to the boat to rest, we come across the Muscovy duck that's been hanging around all day. We name her Margaret, after "Magret de Canard," the classic French dish. We take drinks on the top deck, accompanied by

cheese and pâté.

After resting, we all get dressed for our night out. It's a five-minute walk to the village center. We are the only visitors there; everyone else is a local. Just before the show starts, a woman comes to the front of the stage and introduces the evening. We nod and clap, but it's in French, so we don't really know what she said. It's an amazing performance, involving acrobatics, dance to live music, and a very high pole that both performers scramble up and down quite effortlessly. After the performance, there are drinks and pizza for the audience. We realized we were incredibly lucky to have experienced such a high-quality performance in this small village. When we arrive back at the boat, Margaret is there to greet us.

In the morning, the rain that was predicted doesn't eventuate. We had intended to wait out the rain and motor onward later in the day. As it's not raining, we take breakfast on board and cast off around 9:30, heading to Colombiers. It's only 40 minutes downstream, and just before we get there, we arrive at the Tunnel du Malpas, a 150-metre-long, narrow, one-way tunnel. Serge's advice is ringing loudly: "Turn on the navigation lights, sound the klaxon, and make sure the tunnel is empty before entering." We have a clear run—there is no oncoming traffic, but it's always fun to sound the klaxon anyway.

On entering Colombiers, it's not immediately clear where we should moor. We cruise past the entry to a small marina, thinking it's private, then realize we've gone past where we need to be. Once in the clear canal, we perform a perfect 18-point turn and head back to the marina. Once in, it's a tricky reversing maneuver, and we are berthed.

The Captainerie doesn't open until 4. The woman at the information center says to leave the boat, go to lunch, and come back at 4. We wander the village and discover an open door to what seems to be an old warehouse, where lots of antiques and trinkets are being sold. We leave with trinkets and art.

We agreed to meet back at the restaurant by the moorings at 1 for lunch. We noticed earlier they serve paella. Paul and Wendy arrive at the restaurant before us. Robyn and I are on the backboard of the boat, and my mobile phone is on the rope coil, on the rear seat of the boat closest to the walkway of the marina. We get up and take the 2-minute walk to the restaurant. When we get there, I realize I've left my phone on the boat. By the time I get back, it's gone. I head back to the restaurant and use Robyn's phone to track it on Google Maps. I can see it moving, so I give chase. As I'm unfamiliar with the streets, it takes a while to get my bearings, but my

phone eventually stops moving. I guess the thief figured out they couldn't get into it and dumped it. Getting that phone back is a long and complicated story, involving Robyn's phone, the Gendarmerie, a lovely French woman named Karin, an Englishman named Richard, and my suitcase tracker. I have discovered the French have no direct translation for serendipity, but serendipity it's been.

We dine on board in the evening. A boatload of Spaniards has moored next to us. They are in a festive mood and share some of their jamón with us. They have brought a whole leg with them. Paul and I take a walk up to where I first met Karin—she is running a Telethon, and we agreed if I found the phone, I would go up to support it. She was very generous earlier in the day, driving me back to Capestang to report the theft. It was a small event with a live band and €1 beers.

Back at the boat, we have a nightcap. The Spaniards are going strong but finally settle at midnight.

Next stop, Port Cassafieres where we give back the boat.