Great Italian Admirals

An aristocratic Genoese by birth and of a great ruling family, Admiral Andrea Doria won numerous sea and invasive battles in the Mediterranean, notably capturing Tunis, Koroni and Patras from the Ottomans but he got totally hammered by Barbarossa at the Battle of Preveza in 1538, giving the Turks dominance of the Grand Bleu for 33 years. But, his great fighting spirit lives on, oh yes, it lives on - on the Canal du Nivernais.
Now this is what I call a nice canal, nice condition, nicely navigable, nice locks, nice scenery and lots of rather big and nice boats. Frankly, after a night sleeping next to it, quite legally as not all the towpath is forbidden to camping cars, it is well, boring.
But it is popular with holiday makers who can wander the 180 kms of the canal's length at their ease, stopping off for a cycle ride or a walk in the abundant countryside, then return to their luxury craft to relax and wander on.
Of course, getting under lowish bridges and through locks does require some minimal skills and every year there are accidents as boats attack bridges and damage themselves, removing chunks of hull with gay abandon. It is covered by insurance and most people accept it as a fact of life.
And then came Andrea Doria and his mate, Andrea Doria II; oh boy.
Well, first, they were Italians, the heads of two families, with pretty, well presented wives and something like four kids per family. Therefore a bit traditional and Catholic perhaps. And they had decided to holiday on the Canal de Nivernais with a bicycle each for 'health', which they stacked at the bow of their plastic-fantastic cruiser.
And they has decided to do the whole canal at speed.
I 'met' them, so to speak, as I was reading the Fall of the Roman Empire, in a nice comfy chair with the dogs tethered and moaning, and a nice chilled rosé in hand, by the side of the canal, near a bridge.
As were they.
I first heard a noise, like bees, then birds buzzing and squawking, which was interesting so I looked up and there they were. One big boat, a babble of men women and children all of whom waved and laughed at my preferred glass.
But the admiral had spotted the bridge and ordered all hands; all except madame moved who continued to film. He ordered the crew to man the sides and began to oversteer so that the boat made bigger and bigger lurches side to side and he turned the wheel more and more. He was going flat out, and only eased back at the last minute.
I suggested that they might remove the parasol as the bridge was low and it high which caused a hurriies conference. Finally madame removed it with a wave of thanks.
They crawled under the bridge, losing I think a mop or a brush, shouting like a football crowd, the captain at least remembering to lower his head though I think someone told him to. The fenders died a death.
And then, off, flat out, to forget their shame.
Next morning, I went off slowly, zigzagging across the canal, exploring, and came across the modern locks and keeper who was waiting for a boat to come through. She weaved into view; guess who?
Different skipper, same result; they zigged and zagged and manned the sides and sort of squished into the lock. The lock keeper kept a straight face as he saw it daily.
Some eccentric Swiss cyclists took their lines and we all sighed with relief.
Apparently there are loadsa locks to come.
Blessss.
(my Flip mino will not let me edit the film so there is just a snippet shopping the admirals and a lady; the other lady is keeping the kids below lest they fall in)