Day 3: Tired Sam and the 7 locks

Ulm to Dillingen (~45km)

We found a perfect launching spot just outside Ulm, final preparations completed again, kayak off the car for the final time, into the river and I was off. It was sad to see my parents go, they have been an incredible help, but I was now on my own, with the Danube all to myself.

The target for the day was Dillingen, which I calculated was about 50km away. Quite soon into the day, I noticed that there were markers every 200m counting down to the Black Sea, the first one I noticed was 2,612. Using these markers, I was able to calculate my speed, which due to there being very little current on this section and the fact that I am a complete novice, was not good. The kilometres passed by slowly, but I was quite enjoying being out on the river. There was absolutely no one else on the river, the only human contact I had was from the occasional cyclist that sped past on the adjacent Danube cycle path.

From reading other accounts of kayaking this section, I knew that there would be a considerable amount of locks to navigate past today. Having absolutely no nautical experience, I wasn’t entirely sure what a lock even was never mind how to get passed one. In the end, it turned out there were seven locks today and they proved to be the only real moments of interest for the day. Despite all the locks being entirely identical, my own experience of each one proved to be quite varied.

1. I arrived at the first lock and was immediately clueless. I tied the kayak up at the side and headed off to investigate. I had naively assumed that the locks would be manned and that there would be someone waiting for me at each one with a warm smile and maybe some chocolate. I wondered over to the station and after google translating the instructions, discovered that the lock was unmanned. It looked like quite a simple procedure, there was a lever that went in two directions and a big green button. There was also a lot of German written at the side that I assumed were instructions, but when entered into my phone, came out as complete gibberish. The large green button was incredibly tempting, but concerned that pressing it might start a nuclear war, I cautiously retreated back to my kayak. My only other option was to drag the kayak out of the river, around the lock and plop it back into the river on the other side. The weight of the fully loaded kayak means that this was a long process, taking about an hour.
2. I had barely got back into my ‘rhythm’ when I arrived at the second lock. Again the set up was exactly the same, although this time, there was a phone number. I phoned the number and was immediately shouted at in German. Confused at what I had done wrong; I was about to venture back to the kayak when I realised I had entered the number wrong. I phoned again and this time was put through to a nice man who began explaining the process. In his broken English, he confirmed that the process was as simply as moving the lever to the correct side and then pushing the green button until the bottom door closed. I thanked him and he anxiously wished me well. I moved the lever to what I thought was the correct side and held the button. Initially there was some noises from beneath but 5 minutes, there had still been no visible changes. After a while, I decided to switch the lever to the other side and press the button. Again there were initial noises but again no immediate changes. Then suddenly, the bottom gate began to close, hurrah! The gate closed incredibly slowly and then the lock began to fill with water, this took about 10 minutes. Once full, I knew that I needed to now open the top gate, so I wisely decided to push the button again, the gate began to slowly open. I then pulled the kayak into the lock and pushed the button again, nothing happened. It took longer than I’d like to admit but I finally realised that I now needed to flip the lever to the other side. Sure enough, the gate began to close, the water began to drain and the kayak was on its way down. As the kayak descended, I realised it was drifting away from the wall a bit, so I quickly descended the horribly slimy ladder and hopped into the kayak, waiting for the gate to open. The water finished draining and nothing happened, it became clear that another push of the button was required. This meant another return journey up and down the slimy ladder but finally I was off, another hour wasted.
3. Approaching the third lock, I was confident I knew what to do, 30 minutes later, dripping wet, I paddled out less confident. The first few steps went fine, closed the gate, filled the lock, opened the gate, dragged the kayak in, closed the gate and started draining the lock. This time I decided to attach a rope from the kayak to the staircase so it wouldn’t drift away and I could just wait at the top, pressing the buttons. However, what I’d forgotten is that just in front of the gate, there is a large concrete block that is not visible when the lock is full (you can see it in the picture below). Unbeknownst to me, I hadn’t pulled the kayak into the lock far enough, so when the water started to drain, half the kayak was on the concrete block and the other half was descending with the water. I quickly climbed down the ladder and was forced to jump into the water to save the kayak. Fortunately, it was a nice warm day and I soon dried off.
4. I had spent most of the time in between locks 3 & 4 concocting the perfect plan that would reduce the time, energy and visits down the slimy ladder to an absolute minimum. When I arrived at the lock, I parked the kayak and headed over to the station, only to discover that this one was being repaired. Therefore, I had to haul the kayak out and drag it round the lock again, another 45 minutes gone.
5. I arrived at the 5^th lock with energy levels fading to discover that it too was being repaired. I headed back to the kayak and started removing it from the water. As I was doing so, a couple of guys came out from the station and explained that they could operate the lock. I thanked them with glee and paddled into the lock, sitting in the kayak as the water disappeared beneath me, the gate opened and I was off, 20 minutes saved.
6. Lock 6 went without any incidents, but I did still need to go up and down the ladder 4 times, more work was needed on my master plan.
7. The sun had started to set by the time I reached lock 7, fortunately it was only a few kilometres from my destination. This time I had attracted quite an audience. It is clear from the state of the ladders (there are cobwebs on them) and by the walls of the locks, that they are very infrequently used. Therefore, even for people that live in the area, the sight of them in action is an intriguing proposition. Fortunately, it was for this 7^th lock that I had an audience and not one of my first attempts. Lock 7 went without a hitch and I managed to escape its grasp dignity intact with only 30 minutes expended.

All in all, I think I only covered about 45km today, but with my leisurely pace and the numerous locks, it was just passed 8pm when I finally arrived at the campsite. Fortunately, it was right next to the river and had a restaurant on site. I ordered a burger and went back to the small but crowded grassy area to assemble my tent. To prolong the day’s workload, my tent pole (my tent only has one pole) snapped as I was setting it up. Duct tape seemed to resolve the problem and I was just finished building the tent when the waitress called me over for my dinner. She had completely horsed up my order and I sat down to a plate of sausages. I was too hungry to argue and gladly ate them. A very long day, but a lot of good kayaking and lock practise. With more locks expected and a lot more kayaking to come, I’m going to need all the practise I can get.