Leaving Corre we progressed through the last lock on the Canal des Vosges before entering the Sâone at its junction with the Côney River, which the canal had been tracking for the past week or so of our journey. At this stage the river, known as La Petite Sâone, is a canalised waterway, alternating between sections of unchanged river and wilder sections where the river has been bypassed by sections of canal with locks, weirs and spillways. So, while it is a river, it retains the intimacy and calmness of a canal, albeit one that meanders through fields and wooded hillsides.

The first larger town we would encounter, the old river port of Gray, was several days away; in the meantime, we cruised at a leisurely pace through small towns and villages such as Fouchècourt, Scey-sur-Sâone and Savoyeux. Here, as in many other places we had passed, there were lock-keepers inordinately fond of garden gnomes

.Fouchecourt was a tiny village without commerce, but possessing a quiet charm with its farmhouses and old lavoir wash house.

At Scey-sur-Sâone we encountered one of the very few unpleasant characters on all our travels through France and Europe. We had pulled into the port de plaisance, into the only vacant spot we could find. The facility was operated under license by the hireboat company Le Boat; the office was closed but we located an employee and asked if it was OK for us to stay the night and how much might it be. He indicated that it would be €10, with water and electricity, and that his boss would be along later to collect. We plugged in to shore power and broke open a bottle to celebrate the end of a long and tiring day. An hour later a man came storming along the quay, yelling at us to get away. We tried to explain our earlier enquiries and encounter but he was having none of it. He said we were moored too close to a crane and had no right to be there, accusing us of telling lies and taking advantage.. By this time the sun was beginning to set and we didn’t have much idea of what we could do, but he didn’t care. No choice but to move…. somewhere! As it happened, there was a rickety old pontoon on the opposite side from the port. It didn’t look ideal but it was our only choice so we farewelled our nasty little Le Boat man and made the best of it. The best was nearly perfect, in the end, since the old wooden pontoon was a private mooring for a very nice little restaurant, where we enjoyed a delightful meal overlooking the river, with only a few paces to retire afterwards to our comfortable bed on Eben Haezer. In contrast to our earlier experience, our restaurant host (and the owner of our mooring)  was friendly, welcoming, and apologetic for his countryman.

Before reaching Gray, our next major challenge was the tunnel at Savoyeux, not a particularly long or tricky underground passage but a tunnel nevertheless and our first one of the season. Once through, we found the river widening, more resembling a real river and allowing for faster, though still relaxed, passage through fields and forests.

Before we reached Gray we came across a new (to us) method of controlling the locks in the canalised section of the river. Earlier, where locks were not controlled by lock-keepers, the automatic controls had been operated by a télécommande unit, a remote control issued by the VNF, which you pressed as you approached a sensor a couple of hundred metres before the lock itself. Now, it necessitated passing close to a rod suspended over the river, which a crew member needed to grasp and twist to activate the lock process. To add interest to the day, we shared our last lock before Gray with an adventurer in a kayak. Although they are not really supposed to do so, our kayaker entered the lock behind us and we helped secure and steady him to our side as the waters rushed out to empty the lock. As we left we waved him goodbye, while keeping a close watch on a dinghy full of fisherman on the other side.