NB Gleemaiden

A possible new continuation

2011-10-27T13:31:00.001+01:00

This needs a little explaining - I haven't posted anything on this site since we sold the boat because we didn't feel that we ought to compromise the feelings of the purchasers by continuing under this name.

However I have come to the conclusion that this could be jolly good forum for our Bosun who is CPO of NB Mariner to have a little say about what it means to be a member of the crew. So from here on, all words are his - but of course I have to vet the photos that he would like to include, given that he is rather adolescent and prone to showing off.

So, here is a start.

I was heading the press gang down at Stratford - we needed a few extra crew members for the locks.

Unfortunately I was restrained before I could overpower the lazy bugger. The 1st Lieutenant explained that gentlemen were exempt from the press and took me off to find more suitable sorts in a nearby tavern,

Late Final Extra

2010-06-02T17:25:00.001+01:00

This is just a final posting to let anyone who still looks at this weblog that the principal subject of the site 'Gleemaiden' has been sold and that both of us have moved into a house in Rugby.

Of course one didn't feel too much like posting bulletins while the boat was up for sale or subsequently for some months. We wish the new owners all the best and hope that they have as much enjoyment from cruising the waterways as did we. It was a sad day when we finally left her.

Meanwhile for those those who are interested in what has been happening in our lives; I have started a new weblog, which will be (hopefully) updated regularly and provide some insight into what we do and what we experience in both travels and home life,.

The site is called 'midlandrover' because we we live in the Midlands, which is our base and travel around in a Land rover Discovery - which is pictured here. Also here is the weblink or whatever it is called.

http://www.midlandrover.com

So, thanks for your interest and hope to hear some comments etc on the new site.

Jeeves and Wooster. Of course the real Wooster would have bought a two seater roadster!

The new year rolls on

2010-01-18T17:51:00.008Z

This is going to be an interesting year. perhaps I should have written this posting before the last one, but forget the chronology, it is the content that counts - well anyway the relevance of the subject matter.

It is now just coming up to being a year since I started this weblog, and I notice that this is posting number 52 - wow! one a week; fantastic for a lazy sod like me. I am certainly no Granny Buttons in the scheme of things.

So, as readers might have gathered from blogs passim, we have been dividing time between the house and the boat; with the nett result that the house has actually commanded more time than the boat of late. So lets start with that.

The raised vegetable beds were completed just in time for late Autumn planting of over winter crops such as onions; garlic; shallots; brasssicas and a large number of asparagus crowns. We also managed to get in over forty raspberry plants; three gooseberry bushes and some hybrid soft fruit including thornless blackberries before the frost and snow set.

Amazingly enough, we will have to start tilling the remaining beds and start our spring sowing next month, but we are glad we got such a head start already! I have been watching too many repeats of 'The Good Life' methinks, but haven't extended to goats and pigs yet. Though it seems that Jeeves now has a mind set on raising hens, fowl which did actually occupy our garden until they; were removed next door when the house was sold.

Well with any luck, we won't have to visit the fruit and veg section of Sainsbury's so often in the coming months. All in all it is rather exciting.

Now on the last posting, I mentioned that we were invited to Derek's surprise birthday party - something that certainly could not be put on this site prior to the occasion. The whole evening was a huge success and Derek certainly did not tumble to what was happening until he turned up at the restaurant in Rugby.

Derek and Sheila were at this time moored up at Napton and very solidly iced in, so we couldn't go back to Clarence for after dinner drinks, but we had their daughter Nicki and her partner Dave staying with us - a delightful couple. So we weren't short of company in Rugby either.

There are some things to be said about the ground thawing out - you get to see your lawn again; bulb shoots are peeping out of garden beds and you won't fall over walking down the pavement to the corner store. However, it isn't February yet and we all know that last this was the coldest month.

Perhaps we shall do a little more of this ice walking nonsense - and no, we don't use skis or wings, well anyway a wing and the prayer that we don't fall through! We know that we wouldn't drown, but how cold and wet would you be getting out of zero degree water and walking back to where you could change.

Here also are a couple of pictures of the marina and how we bravely used Gleemaiden as an icebreaker to charge out on to the Oxford Canal in search of fresh water and diesel fuel.

Actually not true of course - because you don't spend five hundred quid on a blacking and take it down to bare metal six weeks later. Funny thing is that NB K2 went icebreaking last year, but I doubt if even she would have got through this thickness of ice.

A walk on the canal

2010-01-10T15:47:00.012Z

Happy New to everybody who has been following this weblog. My apologies for not posting much news lately. No excuse of course, but not much boating either. We do of course visit the boa frequently, to make sure everything is shipshape and rather importantly that water hasn't frozen in the pipes or condensed in fuel tanks, we find living in the house a little more convenient at present.

Today however we felt like a bit of fresh air having been to Derek's birthday party (more of this later in the posting) last night. Well, a trip on the boat was out and setting the fire just to sit there at the marina, drinking wine and watching telly didn't seem awfully exciting either.

. . . . . so, off we went for a nice snowy walk down to Clifton Bridge and yes believe it or not we went for a walk not along the canal but on the canal! Which just goes to show how dedicated we are to exploring the waterways even when our boat is stuck in ice dock.

So here in a few words and some pictures is how we set out to follow the footsteps of the great explorers; Sir Ranulph Fiennes; Shackleton and Scott without even having to cross the equator.

The first step was to see if we could free the Framm from its icy grip and the Chief Officer put her life on the line boarding across the dangerous pack ice,

A brave attempt was made to save the stores and the rotavator seen on deck. (methinks this maybe serious case of trespass - ed)

The Terra Nova can be seen also trapped in the ice astern of the Framm.

Undaunted, the crew set off on an intrepid trip to bridge 65 to seek help from the Norwegians who were drinking with Amundsen in the nearby Crown on Newbold.

Luckily we made it before the next blizzard.

I'll tell you something for nothing though - and I hope that British Waterways know; there is a hell of a lot of bridge bits and barricades, as well as other rubbish that the local chavs have tossed into the canal from bridge 66. The first boat that goes through after the thaw will need to have the draft of an Oxford punt if the rubbish isn't removed immediately after the thaw.

Next posting will be the party and a bit on winter vegetable gardening.

After the blacking

2009-11-18T12:07:00.007Z

After a very rainy couple of days - particularly on the Saturday when the dry-dock picture in the previous posting was taken. Sunday however turned out to be perfect and a phone call late that afternoon confirmed that Gleemaiden was now Glee-ming (at least from the rubbing strakes down), so would be ready for collection the following morning at 8.30am.

Jeeves has also asked me to include a picture of Biggles at the boatyard which I mentioned in the last posting - so here he is 'soclialising' with a dog that for once he didn't dare jump on or growl at. Actually this huge dog has a lovely nature and delights in playing with a squeaky toy shaped and looking like 'The Times' newspaper. Not all newspapers carry stories as sqeaky clean as this one does!

I don't usually do promotions on this weblog, but I can but highly commend the work done by Grantham Bridge Boat Services at Hillmorton (just above the bottom lock). Here is a link which takes you to Canalbreaks - their website.
http://www.canalbreaks.com/
The phone number is the same for boat repairs and blacking as it is for their boat hire service. Anyway they did a great job and checked other under water items such as the bow-thruster tubes and rudder skeg.

Readers who aren't boaters may also be interested in Canalsbreaks.com for hiring purposes - they also own and run Willow Wren which as previously mentioned was the company owned and run by Leslie Morton, who used to use the Admiral Nelson pub in Braunston as an unofficial Midlands office.

It was still a dry dock when we arrived, but slowly filling with water. Jeeves and I were amazed at the size of the rudder (all nicely blacked of course) - we hadn't seen it fully exposed since the launching.

In the background can be seen the coffer dam that keeps the water out of the dry-dock. It works on the same principle as many of those that you Will see along the cut, usually next to a bridge hole with an accompanying crane to drop in the baulks of timber. This one though is much smaller of course - as is the lift bridge that crosses the opening.

The forecast was terrible, but there was some sunshine as we left the boatyard and more as we negotiated the bottom lock, so we decided that rather than moor at Hillmorton, hoping for better weather, I would take advantage of what appeared to be quite good cruising weather for the morning. I set off a sole operative again, with Jeeves taking the car and aiming to be picked up at a bridge hole not far from the marina.

All this duly took place, with Wooster at the hellum picking up Jeeves at bridge 50 next to the Barley Mow. It eeemed to be getting blustery as I eased the boat slowly toward the bridge - no white horses on the water though (as if -ed). Jeeves told me though that the conditions at Brinklow were quite, if not severely blustery.

Well! I should have opened my ears a little more because half an hour later I attempted to swing in through bridge 39 in the usual fashion which involves a little reverse and correction for a 60' boat entering from the south.

Not so! I got her head around and went astern to head through both bridges in a nice straight line. Rubbish! a nice powered turn went horribly wrong. As soon as I dropped to forward power, the gale took hold and pushed the bows back into the cut. Worse was to follow, as being now alongside the entrance I was blown against to opposite bank by the blast.

After much scraping and swearing, we got Gleemaiden amidstream and south of the entrance again, out of the way of the wind tunnel.

This time I put the bows straight into the entrance at an absurd angle and touching the arnco. From there I was able to swing the stern around using the thrust against the rudder and by keeping the wind from pushing the bows out of the entrance once more.

Once through, with the wind coming from ahead we realised that getting into the pontoon mooring with a cross wind like this was going to involve a lot of banging - there really were white horses in the open stretches of the marina. So, we moored up at the South end and took her alongside the following day - also gusty, but we were lucky to have Neil and Ruth to help.

Blacking

2009-11-12T16:08:00.012Z

Lovely day for boating, all set and no wind; but forgot to take the television aerial down didn't I? Also setting off single handed, realised that one has to manage ropes by one's self.

Pulled up nicely by the arnco at the end of the marina and uncoiled one of he centre ropes (not being silly and stepping of the the boat to do this, of course). And then having disassembled TV mast, got under way again.

Jeeves was at bridge 39 to wave me on if no traffic was offering to ram us amidships as I put the helm over to head south again.

Yes! Gleemaiden is off for a blacking and will have to bare all before the stalwart chaps at Grantham Bridge (also Willow Wren of Les Morton and David Blagrove fame).
Had I been working locks and heaving on ropes one gets quite warm in any weather; as a solo operative though on stretches with few such diversions and opportunities for exercise, the man at the 'hellum' can really get to feel the cold.

Anyway, I was only starting to lick the the ice away from under my fingernails and wishing that I could drift for a bit while I made a coffee-laced rum, when the mobile rang. I was passing under Clifton bridge with another boat coming the other way - in fact I nearly dropped another mobile phone in the cut while ducking under the bridge. You also have to dodge bricks - some chav managed to drive a car over the edge; but the canal is free of that at least.

So; 'Clifton Bridge' said I, missing the oncoming boat by inches. The golf course will be coming up shortly.

Ten minutes later another call tells me to look out for her and Biggles - so we slide into a nice strait mooring, not far from the bottom lock at Hillmoton.

Here os a picture of Gleemaiden in drydock and one of Biggle scared pantless by a large German Shepherd at Grantham Bridge Boats.

Got a brilliant e-mail from Neil and Ruth on Nerus (see blogs passim),which tells of trying times that can occur when faced with a water shortage on the cut! Neil has told of some of the odd discomforts that you might experience when waking up in you bed at this angle - I can only say that we would have found ourselves heavily entangled under the gunwale with five feet of uphill mattress to negotiate before even going to the loo along a sloping corridor (thanks for the detail Mr S).

Now here is another think - I haven't done the pictures yet, so I'll have to go and get the camera! Damn! Done that now, so on to the next posting.

Bonfire Night

2009-11-10T20:56:00.012Z

Look out! Its Bonfire Night!

No bonfire, but lots of . . .

. . . well fireworks.

This has nothing to do with boating we simply weren't there - there doesn't seem to be a lot of interest from boaters in making fire and brimstone erupt around the cut or at the marina. Anyway dogs don't like them and towpaths aren't really suited to pyrotechnic displays.

So for the first time in a number of years we had a little display in our back garden. And jolly good it was too, a bit on the light side compared with the public displays, but if you really want to have some fun throwing money away in sparks, smoke and bangs, I could recommend such an evening as we had.

Just think for the cost of only five packets of cigarettes, we had about two hours of colourful if smoky entertainment without having to worry about withdrawal symptoms afterwards.
Derek and Sheila were on assited with the celebrations and Derek was a great help with the handy match and lighted taper. Derek also had a mortar type of firework which would have put the fear into . . . . . no never mind, needless to say that it was quite spectacular!

Minnie and Cain from next came to watch our shenanigans before they and their friend held quite a display of their own - some great rockets!

And Biggles tells us that both wars are over and he is quite happy to stay in bed and ignore all the noise and kerfuffle.

Biggles flies again - well sort of. . .

2009-10-26T16:33:00.008Z

This is a pretty silly heading for a blog post, but I thought it appropriate as the said puppy has kept us home bound and heading to the Dog's Trust or vet with his little problems.
He has, however too much energy, even for our lengthy back garden, so he does get airborne even in the lounge room. The silly thing is that he needs to get out and go boating; but still other dogs and socialising is denied hm. Maybe next week. This is very frustrating for us as well, since we can't do any boating either - apart from a day trip or two.

Last Sunday we did actually have a magnificent trip - albeit a short one. down to Hillmorton and back. This was made especially enjoyable for the fact that our next door neighbours joined us for the outing - and even better that they are also boaters like us who had a boat built bespoke for them and lived on it for several years.

Adam, Barbara, Cain & Minnie made up an excellent crew for a day's outing and it was fabulous that I could be relieved of the tiller for a periods long enough to head up for'ad and enjoy boating from the well deck. Though mind you, Jeeves gives me that opportunity often enough when on long cruises.

The tunnel at Newbold proved to be quit a hit with Minnie; she had been anticipating our entry for some time and I'm sure that the images taken in transit show that she did. I must say that with its lighting (turned off at night of course, because of the bats who live there), make a diverting display. 'Twould be better however if failed floodlight bulbs were replaced more often; never mind, even with about 25% gone, it is still my favourite tunnel - if not the most exciting.

So, we turned at the winding hole just below the bottom lock in Hillmorton, to find a spot for enjoying the sunny Autumn weather and cracking with the barbecue - phew! had the wrong sort of barbecue fuel, which created lots of smoke for those passing by on the towpath and on the cut, but settled down to a good hot charcoal after about fifteen minutes.

The Hibachi (see blogs passim) did a marvelous job and after a satisfying lunch, relaxing as boats went by, we readied ourselves to leave.

Holding on to the last to let boats past before casting off, well! Who should heave into sight just before we thought we were clear to clear away, but - yes Nerus again! Neil quickly brought Nerus alongside and told us they had just been to Braunston, now heading back to Brinklow.

Needless to say we let go and followed in their wake back to Brinklow - a delightful journey with little traffic.

The remarkable thing being; and I am sure there will be flak from this, but pictorial evidence seems to confirm that Nerus has an admiral on the quaterdeck here and a figurehead at the what was one called the beak of the bows. Of course we boaters all call this space as the well deck and cratch!

Arrival at the port of Brinklow was rather good too - we might as well have been in convoy, sliding in through bridges 39 & 40 line astern behind Nerus and berthing minutes behind her.

A new crew member

2009-10-13T13:15:00.004+01:00

Glemaiden now has a new crew member who answers to the name of Biggles. The trouble is that he is still a puppy and hasn't had all his shots yet - so he is not even allowed to say hello to Poppy (the Staffie next door) or even go for a walk in the street.

To put it bluntly, midshipman Bigglesworth has not yet been aboard to see his new berth yet. After tomorrow, when the last shot is fired (into his neck again, no doubt), he will be able to socialise with other freshwater tars at the marina.

Meanwhile heaps has been happening at the Cambridge Street house, but that will be covered in another posting.

Meanwhile at Brinklow, as those who follow the other sites associated with this smashing inland lake, there have been a lot of comings and goings, but most importantly; last Saturday was the annual barbeque.

The event was a resounding success and I think that congratulations are due to all those who helped organise it - particularly the harbour masters; Andy; John; Derek and Eric. The last mentioned of course who made the night so fabulous repertoire - incredible stamina has Eric! So evidently did some of the revellers. I was told that the event didn't fold until about 0:345! And I know it was at least 0:300 when I hit the hammock - after a coffee on board Clarence.

Anyway it was another smashing tribute to the community spirit of those that have boats moored at Brinklow Marina.

Oh and here is a shot of Lyra and Andy at the barbecue - we can't wait to introduce Biggles to Lyra and others at Brinklow. On the night of the barbecue we was still confined to quaters, needing further vaccination shots and then having caught kennel cough. Anyway, it won't be long before he makes new friends.

Next posting will be mostly Cambridge Street stuff and a bit about me having a fight with a rotavator.

Autumnal colours

2009-09-14T17:26:00.004+01:00

Ah yes! the swallows are swooping and sweeping by the boat, catching what they can as they skim the water between our side hatch and the grassy bank belonging to the meadow accross the canal.

Good Lord, how time flies: the last post was in Summer and now it is Autumn, you can see the subtle changes in the foliage reaching over the North Oxford at All Oak Wood.

What wonderful cruising weather! And of course we haven't made hay while the sun shines (although the farmers around here certainly have been doing so). Just the odd seize the moment and take her out on to the cut for an idyllic evening.

Now the reason for all this landlubbardliness is that there has been a lot of work to be done in Cambridge Street. To say nothing of the furniture being delivered after four years of being sequestered in storage. Lots of interesting dramas involved with that - but best left to the next post.

Our good friend and neighbour Steve E wrote that Gleemaiden looked all alone and neglected when he took K2 for a run; but how is this for a deserted pontoon? Everyone seems to have made the best of this Indian Summer - including ourselves!

Gardening leave

2009-08-18T12:09:00.005+01:00

Having arrived back at Brinklow and seen off our friends, we were settling into a life of lakeside drinks and relaxation, when I got a phone call from Michael, a friend who lives in Arundel. He wondered if he would be able to visit the following day.

Initially we thought no, too short notice after our Ashby trip, but on second thoughts why not? So the following day Michael met us at the house and we trundled off to the boat for dinner. An opportunity that we are glad that we didn't miss, the weather was glorious, and so we took her out to moor on the Oxford next to All Oak woods for the night, winding at the Brinklow arm and returning the following day, as Michael had to be in Torquay the following day for an appointment. A short visit but a good one.

The following picture is a sight that you won't see very often. I have been sent ashore on gardening leave!

Well actually we are both rather busy about the house lately painting and generally doing face lift renovations for when our furniture arrives from storage. Jeeves has become a master painter, and Wooster the master gardener.

The garden might be rather narrow, but it is very long - a little bit like an allotment strip from the shed to the back wall. So I am landscaping it as such (borrowed a book on the subject from the library). Although it is a little late in the year for growing much now, but I can put in all the paths and create the raised beds for the next growing season.

It is jolly hard work though forking over all that soil and pulling out a couple of years worth of weeds - dug up a lot of potatoes though.

Some people might have heard or heard about a monologue that I rather unthinkingly treated those at our table and those around us on the subject of cats when we were dining at the Narrowboat Inn on the Grand Union not far from Stoke Bruene!! I will say no more about that tirade. (shurely had too much wine - ed).

Anyway when we got the house here in Rugby, I found to my horror that the garden was completely overrun with verminous cats. Worse than the cats themselves, was that smelly cat poo was being deposited everywhere; on the lawn and in the garden beds - what a smell!

Jeeves however has saved the day. She was leafing though a gardening magazine when she saw advertised a gadget called 'Catwatch', which had recommendations from the RSPB. So we got onto their website and after reading all the blurb about how these things work, we ordered one.

The thing is absolute magic, as it senses a cat walking in front of its eye, Zap!! We watched enthralled as several of the neighbour's cats sauntered around the corner and disappeared with a bang and a puff of blue smoke. . . . . Not really, it does work on an infrared sensor, but lets off an ultrasonic squawk that only cats don't like. We haven't seen a moggy or smelt their poo since.

Now the vexing thing is, what will the dog have to chase when we get one??

Carry on up the Ashby

2009-08-17T16:38:00.008+01:00

Steve from K2 told me that the Ashby canal is rather shallow - he is right, it is and also very narrow in many places. The excuse for not posting an article about this cruise is lamentable though. We lost the connection for downloading pictures from the camera - Jeeves found it today (though I dare say that I didn't know where to look for it as I didn't put it there. . that is enough blaming others, ed).

Now, moving on, we had friends from Brenchley in Kent coming up to visit and wanted them to see some of the lovely Warwickshire countryside from the perspective of canal boating. I thought that Foxton might be fun, but sensible Jeeves said 'no' people don't want to do locks tunnels and staircase flights on their first and second day out, so the Ashby it was.

What smashing weather again! Clive and Delia arrived on the Friday evening after a nightmare of motorway tailbacks that had them taking nearly eight hours to do a three hour trip!

Anyway, we set off the next morning in the (correctly forecasted) lovely late summer sunshine, taking on diesel at Rose boats. Chap filling it said there must be only vapour left, but given that we took on 120 litres and hold 250, the fact that I could still see a reflection of my eye in the fuel hole would suggest that she was still slightly over half full.

Got to Sutton Stop early afternoon and went up to the greyhound for a couple of pints before making the right turn into the Coventry canal. The odd thing here was that there was a decrepit looking boat moored up at the locking bollards adjacent to the Greyhound. The p***es or 'pond life' as Andy E. would call them were having an on board and towpath get together which included full use of the BW facilities, a lot of beer and even a fire burning away on board.

The oddest thing was that the BW staff just sat on folding chairs outside the hut on the other side of the lock pound watching - you try mooring up there for a couple of nights and having a party. . . . .I don't think so somehow, probably something to do with having a licence, insurance, BSC, residential and mooring address and being easy to contact by e-mail.

Anyway, enough of that, Clive and Delia brought their delightful dog, Misty with them for the trip. She is one of the best behaved dogs we have ever had on board, took to boating like a duck to water.

The junction where the Ashby leaves the Coventry canal, is set at a very acute angle when turning right when travelling north and after passing under the bridge, you have to negotiate what was once a stop lock, but now a very narrow entry to the canal.

It is from here on that you realise what a rural countryside this canal traverses (well, winds through mostly), as I mentioned before, the canal is not only shallow, but very narrow, with overgrown towpath side and reeds and bulrushes muddying any definition of a bank or indication of where water becomes dry land.

We decided that our overnight stop would be at Hinkley, where there are pubs, shops and Trinity Marina on the canal - really the only town as such that actually borders the Ashby canal.

We didn't have much joy at all in obtaining a mooring in fact until we got to the large complex adjacent to the Trinity marina. Also encountered very rude and pushy boater when trying to moor up before this point. There was one spot left for a sixty footer just adjacent to bridge 17, and the chap moored in front of us was most informative, telling us that neither he nor anyone else bothered paying the £5 visitor mooring fee, so neither did we.

I wonder if that would work on at Llangollen?

The next day, Clive and Delia did a recce on the Trinity Marina - we were told by our helpful neighbour the night before that it was alright to wind there (as marina residents they should know). Clive said there was heaps of room, so off we went on the return bit.

With no wind and millpond conditions the Ashby really did live up to it's reputation as an idyllic and rural canal.

Passing other boats at bridge holes and when the canal was narrow enough without having permanently moored boat on the canal side were the only problems faced.

The idea was to go back through Sutton stop and moor up at Ansty for the night having a barbecue. Then returning down the Oxford and maybe going past Brinklow to Newbold or Hillmorton, before returning.

As we approached Sutton Stop and the chimney of the old engine house hove into view, we saw an excellent mooring spot (Just as I had nearly passed it, of course). So, full astern and helm over, stopping broadside to the boat in from of the space. As we slowly came astern, and edged in closer, Jeeves accosted some young men walking their dog. They were delighted to catch the centre rope and pulled heartilly until Gleemaiden came alongside with the minimum of fuss. If you ever read this guys, thank you very much!

Yes we did have a barbecue on board that night - and I don't think the smoke and cooking smells impressed the wife of the boat owner behind us, but he was friendly enough. A good night was had by all of us really.

Weather the following day, nasty low cloud and ensuing rain. Have to move on though, so on go the water proof jackets and Breton cap. A pretty uneventfull and rather misty trip back to Brinklow, although the Oford was crowded with traffic coming toward us - nearly hit one twerp, but missed by inches!

It was during this part of the voyage that Clive got the hang of being steerer, in fact so much so that he kept insisting that I needed a break quite frequently! I did and enjoyed the breaks, though would have done so more so if I could have lounged around on the forrard deck drinking coffee!

Shortly before the long straight which ends at Rose Narrowboats, Jeeves said:

'That looks like 'Nerus' coming toward us'

'Rubbish!' I replied, straining my eyes through the misty drizzle.

'It is,' She cried as we drew closer, going at tick over past all the moored boats on this section.

Sure enough, it was! As we passed, we made lots of hellos to Ruth and Neil, tried for conversation, but couldn't stop because Nerus was being followed by another boat on this busy Monday canal.

Got back to the Marina in plenty of time to fill up with water sort all post cruising issues and enjoy a lovely meal at the White Lion in Pailton, before Clive and Delia decided that an evening start for home might obviate any morning traffic hassles - hope they will come for another cruise. Next time it will be locks and tunnels!

A short cruise

2009-08-05T15:33:00.006+01:00

Well, not really, we took the boat all of about 500 yards to the pump out point and back again yesterday, and yes I know that I promised at the beginning that I would not write of such banalities, but what can you say - I know that die-hard cruisers go out in all weathers, but perhaps we are not of that ilk.

There have been many other distractions as well, with the finalising of our house purchase in Rugby (the course of which did not go well, but after a stressful time concluded satisfactorily). What followed of course was a lot of tidying up, moving in of stored items of furniture and belongings etc. There is an incredible amount of paperwork, changing of address etc involved with this.

I am glad to say though, that mail situation is much better now that we have moved from a post office box to a street address - I did rather enjoy having a BT line to the boat though (a bit of a luxury for when we were alongside). BT didn't think much of it though, and I could never get a broadband connection there for some obscure reason. I continued to and still use the 3G+ system.

This latter has its ups and downs for example, a short time ago, I hung my dongle out of the window only to have Tally, Shila and Bandit lick the thing soggy, before I could get it back in through the dinette(!) window.

The subject of retrieving stored items reminds me of another adventure, where we went up to Belper in Derbyshire to fetch items that were kindly stored by David and Doreen Cashmore (NB Beaurepaire - see blogs passim). Of course there was far too much to pile into the hatchback Megane, so David lent us his LD Discovery to transport everything back in one go.

It isn't that I haven't driven Land Rovers before (I've owned three of them), but my gammy foot was playing up and wearing sandals instead of proper shoes - heaven forbid, I might have been wearing flip-flops! S0, the first ten miles of the trip were a nightmare of missing the clutch, hitting the brake pedal with the wrong foot and then having the said sandals catching on the floor. All this was also rather painful, so once in fifth gear and trundling down the M1 at 80, I decided to rid myself of the port side sandal and chucked over to Jeeves in what would have been an admiral Rugby pass. After this things improved markedly and subsequent visits to the house, garden centres etc went very smoothly.

Even to the extent that Jeeves no longer has a prejudice against 4 x 4s (well Landrovers anyway), and wants one. . . . as do I. You see from this that to win over the heart of a gentleman's gentl - no, lady, is the capacity of the vehicle to transport goods purchased in garden centres. In this example it was a tree and . (I think you've gone far enough with this subject - ed).

Pictures? Well, there aren't any this week apart from this one of Jeeves and a view of the back garden. Nobody really wants to see a picture of the pump out procedure do they? I do have one on file, of course.

Again, the Met has forecast good weather for the coming four or five days, which is smashing news and will be capital if, for once they get it right, because our friends Clive and Delia Taylor are arriving on Friday and we are looking forward to some excellent boating. Now, which way shall we head???

A normal week

2009-07-17T13:31:00.012+01:00

The weather has been a bit odd lately, but I suppose everybody has noticed this phenomena - a good opportunity for an old fashioned moan, but not much fun for cruising.

As it happens, we have had a good excuse for not cruising this last couple of weeks having been in the process of finalising the purchase of a house in Rugby - not much point in leaving money in the bank to pay a dividend of 0.5% interest. Also we feel that it is about time we were re-acquainted with our goods and chattels that are still in storage. Jeeves particularly misses the figurines and other collectibles

As well as this, I have been scolded for not including some of the other amusing incidents that occurred while we were in Stoke Bruene. With particular regard to this poor squirrel that was taking a constitutional along the towpath near the tunnel when we turned up.

Unfortunately, it wasn't aware that the Blisworth Tunnel doesn't extend to a towpath and became trapped between us, the canal and a high concrete wall on the right of the path.

Eventually, it took the only option, and started up the tunnel wall, which it proceeded to climb - the wall actually slopes slightly back at an angle from the canal.

It paused to read the plaque and continued on its way up. The over the arch and up again until it reached the coping at the top. The mountaineering skills required for this overhand needed pitons and ropes, which the squirrel didn't possess. It tried though and fell off just below the coping edge!

In the next split second I wondered if squirrels could swim, but I wasn't to find out - remember the slope? Well after a fall of about ten feet, the little creature managed to scrabble a hold on some rough stones just above the yawning mouth of the tunnel. It then though better of rock climbing and scrambled across to the other side of the tunnel rampart and disappeared into the woods - I hope it had some nuts buried o that side, though if I were the squirrel, a stiff drink would have been more more welcome.

Other creatures seemed to be making the most of their surroundings as well, like this moorhen, which seemed to have commandeered a button as an interesting food source.

Then there were Neil and Ruth who joined us at 'The Boat' for a nice cool drink that we didn't deserve nearly as much as the squirrel!

Later that evening, we backed up several boat lengths (who says that you can't go astern in a narrowboat?) and winded near the tunnel for an early start the next morning. We wanted to get through the Blisworth tunnel before any boats were coming the other way and didn't wish to wake up all the other moored boats at the crack of dawn.

The following day we made it to Braunston (through both tunnels without incident this time). And who should we meet there, but Andy and Lyra, who were also out and about enjoying the fantastic weather.

Having made up time (doctor's appointment in Brinklow pending), we spent a day at Braunston, also meeting Richard and Sue who own NB Frog who keep their boat at Brinklow as well.

There was also reported to be some folk and jazz music on a the Admiral Nelson, but it turned out to be only recorded stuff, so we left that out.

There was a heck o a lot of traffic through Braunston that day - including Neil and Ruth on Nerus, who as they passed us in the late afternoon, said that they were mooring just the other side of Braunston for the night.

So, our mooring opposite the Old Mill looked less attractive (especially after some horrid music started at about nine o'clock). We therefore untied and meandered up the Oxford until we found Nerus tucked into the bank in an idylic rural setting.

A bottle of wine with good freinds and up the next morning for our return to Brinklow.

(that is enough about Stoke Bruene, and try to make the deadline in future - ed).

Enter Warwick Castle

2009-07-14T16:19:00.007+01:00

Right, well here we are at Warwick Castle. And it is not narrowboating, but at least a lot more up to date. There has been little of the cruising since Stoke Bruene as we have been in the throes of finalising a house purchase in Rugby.

You wouldn't believe how busy the castle was for a Monday (and not even school holidays yet) but, heaps of horrid noisy brats everywhere - mind you, I suppose they were enjoying themselves as I did on similar excursions when in my youth. Also a lot of foreigners from all parts of the globe, I hadn't realised that Warwick was such a tourist attraction - Rugby certainly isn't despite the recalcitrant and probably un-intellectual student of this famous institution who got bored and ran away with the ball in 1823. O for that matter; the poet Robert Brooks; the inventor Frank Whittle.

These can't really compete for the attention deficient nature of today's child, who will only settle for falconry; jousting larks, the drama of the Trebichet and the King making exhibition which is in fact a remarkable juxtaposition of artifacts from the era; Madame Tussaud figures and reproductions of all the goods and sundries that complement a rounded atmosphere of the time. Even one of the horses had an tail that twitched electronically, and there was a horrible 'authentic' smell to the scene.

Even the children commented on this (not favourably ether - TV and Video games haven't yet extended themselves to providing olfactory stimulation to visual and aural violence). Pointedly, they weren't enamoured of it, and I wonder what the smell of blood and faeces would do to improve their Hollywood and video killing games for them. Would they gain some sense of moral rectitude? Maybe, perhaps not, but one suspects that sales would certainly decline for any number of reasons. Most people; even brats like a clean, sterile and odourless world these days and only revel in violence and sex when it is at clinical arms length so to speak - seen and heard but not touched and smelled, let alone coped with in any sort of reality.

Enough of that, let us return to the raptors. The Castle staff seem to be gifted entertainers - well they behave as though they are anyway. The birds are entertainers, not vocal, but even unwittingly, they certainly are. Eagles all; Bald headed (lots of feather though sur la pate); White Tailed Sea Eagle (huge); a juvenile from the bald headed pair (who is learning to fly properly); and another who's taxonomy I forget.

They flew, hovered, and glided their way around the castle precincts, seemingly at the command of the falconer, and were rewarded for their efforts by pieces of meat, before dutifully swooping off to land on the waiting arm of an assistant falconer.

Jeeves and I were quite enthralled. The pictures above are mostly Jeeves effort - pretty difficult really, given that these birds zooming around.

There was a sign at the small entrance to the battlements that suggested that people with weak hearts or infirm limbs should not venture any further. Some mention of 400 and something stairs. Looking up, I wondered where these stairs led to heaven? The battlements and castle wall were only about the height of a three storey house.

Well! there was no turning back, onward and upward we went - then Guy's tower loomed ahead of us. There is no turning back; this part of the tour is only one way.

Phew! Made it to the top without heart attack and not too much shortness of breath. What a view! Look, I might be turning into a grumpy old man, but why does some idiot have to be posing for a photograph, at the top exit of a zillion stairs? But sure enough they were. And there were screeching and jumping kids as well - at least they had made the effort, but anyway, I had to be a little assertive to use a battlement for photography purposes.

Down we went again, but not too far, we had more battlements and turrets to traverse, replete with more spectacular views. Durham Cathedral has very spectacular views, afforded to the intrepid spiral stair climber as well, but all in all it is much more pleasant at the top of the tower. As well as being a tenth of the price for the exertion.

Never mind, lots more to see (and you'd better, having paid forty quid for it). We head along, up and down; finally to the Kingmakers exhibition. Of which I have spoken. Absolutely smashing, but impossible to enjoy properly for all the tourists posing among the exhibitions having their photographs taken in beguiling embraces with the waxen inhabitants, along with scores of jostling schoolchildren squawking and larking about with the exhibits (thoughtfully nailed down).

The Trebichet, slings a huge stone about four hundred yards. A remarkable medieval invention. So, it was no surprise that this piece of entertainment also drew a large crowned, presided over by a theatrical MC, who was attached to a radio microphone. The banter would suggest that he had some sort of military background - anyway, I've never seen one of these in action, and it was quite spectacular.

Probably the most interesting from our view was the 'Royal Party Weekend' exhibition. Some very helpful staff were also on hand to explain and expand on the exhibits at hand. Fascinating for example was a sideboard crafted and carved in the 19th century from timber that was hewn, sawn and carved from an oak tree that grew from and acorn planted by Queen Elisabeth in the 16th century on the estate of Warwick Castle.

In this part of the castle there are numerous rooms, medieval and Victorian, but I will not render this posting too tedious, given that most of you readers have a healthy interest in narrowboats.

Stoke Bruene Pt 5

2009-07-12T18:19:00.005+01:00

I didn't think that you could get sunburnt in the Midlands; but you can. A heatwave Summer has been forecast, it seems that we were getting a taste of that on the Grand Union I can only say that I don't want it to get any hotter than this (it hasn't of course, and we have had some welcome rain since then).

There was a discussion about cats at the Narrowboat pub which I have been told to leave out and never repeat.

The next day saw us heading toward Blissworth Tunnel; another cracking day and passing Gayton Junction we were tempted to turn left and head up the Nothampton. The cool darkness of the tunnel beckoned though.

The silliness then started to creep in.

The first bit was my fault; I was reading the board adjacent t0 the entrance and forgot that I was also making a slight starboard turn into the stygian gloom of the tunnel.

Bang!! I sideswiped the railing on the port quarter. Crunch!! the stern scraped the starboard side. Then steady as she goes, but No!! to much port and then too much starboard.

Jeeves took over the helm - much better eyesight than mine, and she seemed to adjust to the darkness better. So there I was holding the torch to give some close reference to wall proximity, when Jeeves shouts:

'For God's sake Wooster, I've lost her -quick!!'

'What??' Came the inane answer.

'You'll have to take over. . Now!!'

The torch clattered to the deck and somehow I managed to stumble onto the counter and grab the helm. Too late!

We wanged into the right hand side of the tunnel and heeled over heading for the left side. Somehow, managed to get her back into mid-stream again and with increased revs, we continued to cruise through the third longest tunnel in the country. My eyesight had finally adjusted.

Passing boats in the tunnel was an interesting experience - but imaging the poor steerer on the boat pictured, when the flash went off. We do apologise to whoever that was, but. . . . . Jeeves gets enthusuastic with the camera sometimes.

More later plus pictures - have to make a phone call. (that was a bloody long phone call -ed.)

Stoke bruen Pt 4

2009-07-11T16:51:00.005+01:00

After mooring up near Norton Junction for the night, we set off at a respectable hour the next morning to tackle the Buckby locks. Blimey but wasn't the weather getting hot! Neil and I were breaking out in a sweat just watching our crew winding away at the lock paddles and pushing the gates (we did manage to assist in the gate pushing bit as the locks were descending).

Also passed two of the narrowboat icons of the system - steamboat President and her butty Kildare (named after a famous America GP, I was told).

Very thirsty work in the hot sun and therefore had a welcome break at Wilton Marina for lunch and a bit of shopping in the chandlery. It is amazing to see the waterfall cascading over the bottom lock when a boats are entering the lock. Nobody had a sensible reason for this phenomena, but I suspect that the lock gate is just a little too low for the water flow from the pound above.

Didn't go a hell of a lot further that day, but moored up just short of Bridge 26 where there is a handy water point and beyond the bridge, a beautiful and very well appointed pub called the Narrowboat.

Having rested and sorted the necessary to freshen ourselves up we headed to the said pub for dinner. Not exactly a reasonable price to pay for pub fare, but excellent quality and the view was superlative - overlooking the canal and surrounding countryside.

Just before we sat down to eat, the haunting sound of a steam whistle sounded and I thing most of the patrons sitting outside in the garden were canny enough to recognise an approaching steam - it was not likely to be a steam train on a canal; so we all waited with baited breath and were rewarded by the sight of President sweeping around the bend in the canal, towing Kildare on a 70 snubber.

There was a lot of waving and cheering from the garden of the Narrowboat, genially returned by the crews of both President and Kildare. Also accompanied by many more shrill blasts on the whistle. One may be a little cynical, but could they possibly have anticipated an audience at the Narrowboart? Anywary It was a magic canal moment at any event.

Stoke Bruene Pt 3

2009-07-10T16:11:00.003+01:00

I should add that we both fell in love with narrowboating back in 1997 when we were holidaying around the country by car. Seeing the canal at Oxford, we decided to follow part of its course to Birmingham. It must be over forty years since I read LTC Rolt's 'Narrowboat', but the names of the towns were firmly wedged in my memory. So there we were sitting at a table in the beer garden of the Admiral Nelson, watching the boats locking up and down through lock no. 3 that we thought 'wouldn't that be a great way to get around the countryside'. Well it is; and with a little deja vu, we locked up through the Braunston Six and came face to face with the yawning mouth of Braunston Tunnel.

Now this is not the first tunnel that we have been through, but apart from the Newbold, is the first that we have to negotiate two way traffic. Personally I like the slam of the garage door behind you in the Harecastle or the friendly green lights of the Foulridge, realising that there is not going to be a boat coming the other way.

It is interesting to see how much the bank has collapsed at the entrance to the tunnel, but there is still plenty of room to slip into the darkness without bumping the sides.

Ha! but not for long! Whichever god granted me my eyesight must have suffered from gross moral turpitude; given that I can see enough to make life wonderful, but not enough to negotiate a 60ft boat in suddenly changing light conditions. To put it mildly, with Nerus following, I whanged into the side about 100 yards in. Jeeves was furious and took over the tiller until we were near the end. Thank god for that!

At least we didn't have to pass any boats that day - more on this subject later.

After the tunnel, we made another early stop so that the stalwart lock-wheelers were ready for the Bucky flight the next day. And Whew! Apart from the passage through the tunnel, it was getting to be awfully tropic.

Looking back at the exit of the tunnel, one wonders how effective the ventilation shafts are - well they are pretty good for dropping a curtain of water on the steerer anyway.

Stoke Bruene Pt 2

2009-07-10T14:07:00.006+01:00

It was Neil and Ruth's suggestion that Stoke Bruene would make a good destination for a shortish cruise and we jumped at the chance to tag along. So, on a bright Saturday morning we made a left hand turn from the marina and headed off toward Braunston fully aware that the Working Boat Festival was still in full swing. We had already visited this event prior to the occasion (see blogs passim), now we were going a week after the definitive weekend!

The weather proved to be splendid and Jeeves was resplendent with parasol in one hand and the helm held 'steady as you go'.

Needless to say, we had no intention of trying to moor up in Braunston, so decided to stop when the spire hove into sight over at bridge 87, but seeing a lot of boats moored up even before we got that far, decided to pull over way before that. There wasn't any particular hurry and being right out in the country is lovely on a hot summer's evening.

Working boats there were aplenty, the next morning as they thumped past us during breakfast (actually before that, you lazy bastards -ed). And off we set, prepared for the canal equivalent of a motorway tailback. It wasn't though and with a bit of care and patience, our entry into the town was completely stress free.

We did have the pleasure of seeing some wonderful working boats - motors and butties and some under way, with the butty following silently in the wake of the motor. Personally, I am quite ambivalent when it comes to the love of old boats (by this I mean owning and living on one). Both of us would be over the moon to have a Russell Newbury, Lister or Gardner pushing us along the cut, but on the other hand, how could we do without all the mod cons like Travelpower generator, fridge/freezer and (oh so sad) the dishwasher? Anyhow, it is great to look and dream.

As it happened, Braunston was indeed busy, but turned out to be a breeze. We arrived at the bottom lock with no bumps or bangs and lots of 'hellos' to boaters and gongoozlers alike, where Neil found that there seemed to be an unofficial winding hole! At first we thought we would have to turn around and go back, but all was sorted and we followed Nerus into the lock. I really wonder if you could wind here, it would prove to be quite handy!

Ante Stoke Bruene

2009-07-09T19:10:00.013+01:00

Quite a bit was going on at Brinklow before we set off for the epic voyage to Stoke Bruene:

Firstly; there is pond life again.

Then there is hard work. . . . . . .

This poor Typist was very tired having spent so much time with her busy master. Being ng a 'Girl Friday' she had brought the tea and biscuits. Seen here Tally is relaxing with afternoon tea on Gleemaiden before atttemding her massage appointment.

And then the pre cruise to Warwick to assess the damage passing narrowboats could inflict: Jeeves asseses the castle and other unspoilt parts.

Right that is enough for the moment.

Two tunnels and an historic village Part 1

2009-07-09T18:16:00.004+01:00

The historic town of Stoke Bruene is known to all who travel the inland waterways of this country, so there is little to add, apart from our observations during the journey and whilst visiting Stoke itself. We also visited Towcester (now there are a good deal of pseudonyms and puns to be had with this one - indeed I popped up there. [No more towcester jokes -browned off]). I was of course in my element in Towcester, sandwiched between beautiful black and white buildings one minute, then springing forth through the narrow apertures behind chrome street facades, visited Waitrose and bought necessities such as butter; marmite and that sort of thing.

Well this is a long way from where we set out so I think it is time for a different posting. I do also apologise for the complete lack of pictures or recent postings. The 3G+ signal here is abysmal Anyay, I will try again in a couple of hours.

Sounds from the saloon would suggest that the Ashes are on - think I'll watch for a bit. Try and upload some pictures later.

Ah well! thanks to Neil and Ruth from Nerus, here is one picture that I have manage to upload - so now I am going to continue with the rest of the diary of the journey. Cheers!!

Notes from a small village

2009-06-23T10:50:00.009+01:00

Haven't been any where in particular for a few days - boating that is, apart from Braunston on Blow It'. But I think that I am getting fitter through some of the activities that we undertake. Campanology for example.

Bellring per se is probably exercise enough - especially if you ring at a couple of churches every week and throw in a service or two, but winding the clock at St John's in Brinklow is a definite work-out.

The instrument for winding the mechanism is sort of a cross between a lock paddle windlass and the starting handle for one of those vintage cars that didn't have starter motors (or they did, but the battery was flat). The end of this handle is fitted over the winding spindle, (which is a bit like that on your mantle mantle time piece, only huge), and wound anticlockwise until the respective weights (there are two of them) climb slowly from the floor level of the ringing chamber to the height of the pulleys where they provide the motive power for the clock mechanism over the next seven days before reaching floor level again.

The small one is a doddle and can be wound using one arm - but the heavy one is a beast! I'll say one thing - the clock is pretty accurate for an old timer (enough clock jokes, ed). And hopefully when the mechanism is moved to make way for the new bell installation, the whole thing is going to be fitted with an electric motor to wind up the weights (or will it be given a spring).

Jeeves and Aunt Agatha attended the Pagan festival at Combe Abbey Woods mentioned before and took a couple of photos of the manor house and lake. I am told that the Solstice bit went very well indeed with wholesome food; a breaking of bread and passing of wine (sounds rather fishy to me - geddit? ed).

One of the photographs from the pond of those elusive blue damsel flies actually came out. The image also shows a couple of other dragonflies in the vicinity - Jeeves is pleased, but I should imagine that clicking on the picture on this blog will be necessary for those like me who are occularly challenged.

The mating pair of swans finally turned up with their cygnet, so she hadn't left him after all. I am surprised that there is only one cygnet as this would appear to be fine breeding ground, and I can't think of any predators that would be prowling around the marina.

I have been wanting to jump into bed with a Staffordshire lass for years. . . . . . . . . . . .

But imagine my surprise when a four legged one jumped into bed with me - and proceeded to sit on me!

We visit the Working Boat Festival

2009-06-22T14:57:00.007+01:00

A week before it is officially open! This was probably fortunate for two reasons. Firstly it didn't cost £10 as apparently it will next weekend to park the car there, and secondly, we were able to catch up with Howard, Heather, Adrian and Jill as they cruised through Braunston on their way to the Leicester Arm.

As you can see though, we did come across some classic working boats - but not many.

Blow It had slipped her moorings at 08:00 hours on the Saturday morning; we were still hiding under the duvet at the time, if i remember. Also feeling a little fragile following a good evening with the four of them on board Blow It , the previous night. Our decision to drive down to Braunston was also for the purpose of blowing out the cobwebs and getting off the boat for a while. Mind you we had done that by enjoying a delightful lunch at the Old Smithy on the Friday - and a big thank you to Howard and Heather for sneaking up to the bar and paying while I wasn't looking!!!

Anyhow, we jumped out from the bushes at the western side of Butcher's Bridge, which we had just crossed after parking up on the High Street near the Old Plough - talk about good timing, or probably luck! So we stuck our thumbs out and were picked up in the bridge hole for a free trip through the locks.

I have to say that apart from an occasion last year on Beaurepaire, this is the first time I have travelled up forward in a boat. This is because I am always at the tiller on Gleemaiden; and i must say I really enjoyed it. So peaceful, when all you can hear is the distant throb of the Perkins way back in the stern.

We had intended to go all the way to the tunnel with them, but although the company was great and boating is oh so relaxing when others are doing the paddles and gates etc, the Admiral Nelson won out at Lock 3. So we said our farewells (again) and rejpaired to the bar for a couple of Scrumpy Jacks - and would you believe it? it started to rain, what timing again.

Summer Solstice!

2009-06-21T12:38:00.006+01:00

The longest day of the year, and I am going to spend part of it in the White Lion, watching the Grand Prix with Martin, while Jeeves is off to Combe Abbey woods for a pagan festival.

Since the last post a lot of water has gone through lock so to speak, more of which I shall write when I get back this afternoon - its that procrastination thing again. Whenever I go to draft a posting, I always seem to find everyone Else's blogs more interesting that doing mine - and then I find I have to be off somewhere!

Back again, we didn't do awfully well in the Grand Prix, in fact the Krauts won, so we nipped outside into the sunshine to avoid listening to the German national anthem 'Deutschland uber Alles!' if I remember.

The main news this week has been the visit from Howard and Heather and their boat Blow It. I should add that they were our (favourite) neighbours when we were moored at Shipley Wharf until October last year. Howard was fantastic when we left, as he devoted a whole day in assisting us to get through the first leg of our journey south, and with help also from Tom, had us getting to our first destination at Skipton.

It wasn't a complete doddle for them getting here either, but although a Wednesday arrival was out of the question by that afternoon, Blow It duly appeared at bridge 39 on the Thursday, with Audrone to take the pictures and me marinate the chicken for the barbecue (yes, another one).

Anyway, it was super to meet up with old friends and catch up with news of Shipley and of others that we haven't seen for over six months. Anyway, a great time was had by all and another late night logged up!

Shamefully I missed out on including the lovely Meg among the crew of Blow It. How could I be so remiss, but better late than never, so here she is pictured on board her boat - I hope her feelings have not been hurt.

A Salutory Evening

2009-06-17T12:52:00.010+01:00

I really should write these posts in a more timely manner - this one is about three days overdue. I haven't even got the excuse that the film has to be developed and picked up.

Anyway, the crew from Clarence - Derek and Sheila (but not Lexie) came around for a bit of a do. For once in my life, I managed all the food preparations in advance and was therefore able to enjoy the pre-dinner drinks. These turned out to be quite a medley, with Jeeves ordering up G & Ts, beer, red wine etc at a fair rate of knots (a good thing my Doctor doesn't read this).

The evening was all rather enjoyable and went rather quickly. While I would really love to post some of the pictures of Derek with the teddy bear - I thought it better sleeping bears lie in peace. . . . .

One thing that can be ascertained from the photographs however, Jeeves's heavy handed pouring of Laphroaig Single Malt.

I will admit however that I was not doing anything much until after elevenses the following day and Jeeves wasn't in a great hurry to greet the world either.

Until today, further fair weather has lent us good occasion to lounge in the sunshine down by the marina lake (or is it a pond??) Sipping cold fizzy beverages and trying - unsuccessfully, I might add, to photograph the little blue Damsel flies and a huge blue dragon fly that had a bright yellow face. It looked a little like a miniature aerial Thomas the Tank Engine. Actually, this one I found on the net has is a very close cousin to the one flying around the reeds on the edge of the lake yesterday. Aunt Agatha also made a a lakeside appearance, bumping over the lumpy field on her bicycle.

- - - - Bertie Wooster

Elderberies and party time

2009-06-16T18:51:00.003+01:00

Elderberry flowers are everywhere at the moment - around here at least, and Jeeves decided having tasted some of Aunt Agatha's, to make some elderberry cordial. This required much picking of flowers and a lot of preparation.

The result is so good however, that a new batch as soon as more elderflowers are obtained. I must say that I certainly like the stuff as well; but can't wait to get my hands on my brewing equipment and batch up some elderberry wine. And a few other wine type things like mead and barley wine.

Been quite a sociable week this last one, even if we haven't done any cruising. Friday night was an evening spent on Nerus with Neil and Ruth who plied us with red wine and then mercifully with coffee - rather a late one that, but very enjoyable!

Neil and Ruth were here again today attaching the very attractive signwriting from Cut Signs (seems to be a month for this activity) - the thing is that I didn't hear one rude word from the East end of the pontoon, which I think either indicates that I am deaf, or Neil is a very patient chap. In fact here is a belated picture of me stealing K2 from our pontoon. Well not really, after all, Cap'n Steve is clearly visible on the gunwhale - one can see that he is very carefull not to scratch the new work!

Nearly beached her!

2009-06-08T14:54:00.007+01:00

Before I get on to that subject, I must say what a smashing job Sheila is doing on K2. Steve has written quite a lot about this finishing touches to his boat, and now that he has published (if that is the right wording for weblog posts), I thought I'd add a couple of ours.

The first was snapped from the dinette window showing some lettering completed (with shadowing effect et al) and some not.

The second shows Sheila busy on the Port side of K2. It is very odd actually having K2 facing the wrong way - we're so used to having that huge tug deck as a sort of extra bit of pontoon!!! (did you know they use it as a barbecue deck Steve? - ed.)

There has been a bit of wind lately and the Midlands have had most of the rain allocated to the British Isles. This has not kept us all tied up to the pontoon or towpath however (see related blogs). So the day before yesterday, I had the interesting experience of approaching the pontoon in a sideways sort of crab as the northerly wind got me broadside. I thought I was going to do a good grinding and scaling job on Helva, the boat that snuck in behind us. So I poured on a bit of power, and gaining plenty of steerage way, missed by at least six inches. But whoops!! that is a beach ahead, not wide water. So with 55hp stern thrust and helm hard over, I watched incredulously as our mooring rings vanished from the peripheral site astern; then appeared again as Gleemaiden nudged gently into the pontoon. No hesitation, rope in hand, I shot a loop through and got her in nice and tight. Apparently, I missed the beach by about two inches, and Audrone told me that she thought that she was going to be catapulted onto the bonnet of our car when she hit.

Apart from the fact that one doesn't really like taking the camera out in rainy weather, there haven't been any water based shenanigans to capture over the last week - apart from another intrepid painter. Martin (aka Gussie Finknottle), borrowed Debby's little punt and managed to put a good coat of paint on the off-pontoon side of Hetty Peggler.

We also had a lovely evening on Clarence last night, but it is best, even if episodes of such evening are recorded on film, that they are left unpublished. For this good reason, we were far too tired(!"!) to wish Neil and Ruth a bon voyage as they set out for the Ashby canal on Nerus this morning.

First day of Summer

2009-06-04T10:53:00.014+01:00

A remarkable change has (and still is) happening to K2! The sign writer has arrived and she is giving a lift to the livery on Steve's boat; which now bears his name and Julie's along with a legend claiming that K2 is ready and raring for the canal towing business. Maybe he could start by towing 'The Druss' around the other way for Simon.

Anyway, I haven't posted any pictures of this transformation; I think probably Steve would like to do that - anyway the whole job looks smashing and Steve should be very pleased with it.

Got a little more sunburn over the weekend. It was too good to waste sitting on deck chairs in the marina, so we went out and moored up just at the start of All Oak Wood. Also moored up along this stretch was 'Hetty Peggler', so out came the Barbecues and we celebrated the last day of Spring and the first day of Summer in fine style.

We certainly didn't have a dull couple of days, huge number of boats going by and more than a little selection of wildlife to watch languidly from the deck or towpath, with glass of wine in hand.

This beautiful pair of hotel boats passed us as well. The butty looking particularly resplendent - but where is the horse's tail hanging from the rudder post??

. . . .And there was also some some tame wildlife on another passing boat. . .

This cygnet was trying to talk its mother into going back for seconds of Malt Kiln Farmhouse bread.

Meanwhile, a heron nearby was trying to find fish in the field opposite.

. . . . . then realised that the canal is probably a better prospect. Didn't seem to catch anything though.

Spring Bank Holiday - part four

2009-05-29T16:59:00.008+01:00

Right! I have been admonished for abandoning Blog, so here we are again. This time at Bank Holiday Monday, which started off warm, but cloudy and it seems that the Cashmores on Beaurepaire are returning today. Not in any great hurry though, as they were still ploughing their way through an enormous breakfast at 9:30 when we paid a visit.

This is all leading to the modus operandum of David's turning the boat to face north again. It has to be mentioned that the cut at Braunston was particularly busy; boats passing every couple of minutes and a a bottle neck from time to time at the junction itself. Owing partly to the proximity of the Midlands Chandlers, water point and rubbish disposal. So I was not a little surprised when David decided that it would be quicker to turn by reversing into the junction, under one bridge and out again in forward gear through the other.

Some people are blessed with good timing and as the pictures show, he managed the whole manoeuvre without bumping into or jamming up any other boaters. There was some ribald teasing though about how much easier it would be if he had fitted bow thrusters. David gives me a lot of aggravation over the fact the Gleemaiden is fitted with them. Keeps telling me how embarrassing it must be to be seen using them!

Quite frankly, I am sure that the majority of working boatmen and boatwomen would have welcomed these handy appliances had they been around in those times. They did after all move from horse propulsion to steam to diesel. They were also quite happy to take on rechargeable batteries as well when they became available and use electric lighting.

That afternoon saw us sauntering up the towpath toward the tunnel after the sun had burnt off all the hazy cloud and the day got brighter and warmer. We were also surprised to see that the Admiral Nelson is open again after finding it closed on our last visit.

I should mention at this point that in 1997, Audrone and I paid a visit to Braunston (along with Oxford and Banbury) at exactly the same time of year. We were sitting at an outside table belonging to the Admiral Nelson drinking Scrumpy Jack cider and generally gongoozling as the boats negotiated the third lock of the six in the Braunston flight.

Afterwards (12years ago) we had gone for a walk, following the towpath as far as the tunnel and then across the hill to the other side. We were to say the least absolutely gob-smacked to watch boats being swallowed up by the Stygian gloom as they slipped under the entrance and disappeared into the hillside with steerers standing nonchalantly on the stern.

at the other end we watched fascinated as they emerged swathed in diesel fumes into the dappled sunlight. We wandered a little further down the towpath and stood on one of the picturesque hump back farm bridges and watched boats slide underneath. It was as were were returning to the Admiral Nelson that it dawned upon us that it might be possible to join this wonderful and mysterious clique of waterway travellers - if we only had a boat. . . .

So this afternoon's trip was more than a little nostalgic. But we realised how far we had come from these early years while photographing a boat as it emerged from the tunnel at the Braunston end, for our reminiscence photo file. Audrone said:

'Oh look, that boat has a bubble on the roof for the satellite dish just like Clarence has.'

At which moment I was more like Clarence the cross eyed lion in Daktari, as I squinted through the viewfinder (well actually at the LCD display - ed).

'It is Clarence!' shouted Audrone. And so it was. Derek and Sheila were returning from their cruise and as it turned out were intending to moor at Braunston for the night, before heading back to Brinklow.

Well, things have changed - we could hardly have had a meeting like that 12 years ago! We retired then to the Admiral Nelson and took a couple more snaps of them as they passed us again, passing through lock no. 3 on their way to moor. As it turned out they moored right opposite us at the Old Mill near the aforementioned junction.

We had every intention of having our evening meal at the Old Mill, but when we arrived at just after six, we were told that meals were not served after 6:00pm! How stupid is that? 'Oh sorry, its dinner time now and we've closed for the night.' Most of the time you arrive at 4:30 or 5:30 only to find the pub that you have stopped at is shut for the afternoon, but will be open again at six. We could have had a liquid tea, but opted not to and returned to boat for a simple meal. We were after all heading back first thing in the morning to avoid the traffic.

Above . . . . Sheila has just clocked the camera pointed at her from the pub lawn!

Now here's a funny thing; when we left the pontoon, we left behind Nerus and K2 still moored up and not looking like moving. Neither was there any boat moored behind us.

Come Tuesday, when we return, there is another boat installed in the spot behind us (most unexpected of course when turning in - you don't extra landmarks to appear when you have only been out for three days). And there was Steve from K2, giving us a hand tying up and coiling ropes.

'Going off? I asked. 'Oh no,' he replied. 'Got back from Braunston a couple of hours ago!'

I think I just looked stupidly at him. Firstly, we hadn't seen him at Braunston; secondly, we had left at 7:00am! Apparently Julie had a very early engagement.

Back at Braunston outside the Admiral Nelson (again, the Monday), a boat glided into the lock with one of those beautiful sounding classic engines beating away. I maintained that it was a Lister and Audrone marked it as a Russell Newbury. It didn't sound like K2 though, so I was determined to find out.

Looking through the open engine 'ole, I spotted the bold RN insignia gleaming brightly on the engine head. The skipper of 'Muchgigglin' explained the reason for the distinctive sound of the RN engines and given that this was a two cylinder 19 horsepower engine as opposed to K2's three cylinder engine, it was no wonder that it had such a slow beat - I think I'll know better next time.

When my curiosity was explained to the pipe toting skipper, he laughed and said that I owed Audrone a drink - so I bought us both one!

There is a sequel to this little yarn When we were back on Gleemaiden, we again heard the familiar thump of the RN approaching from under the bridge. As they drew alongside, they were hailed from the shore. It turned out that they had lost their mooring chain earlier on when it became jammed around the armnco railing, and now another friendly boater was returning it, having managed to prize it free with their boat hook. The said item was then passed back to them across Gleemaiden as they hove to outside the Old Mill pub opposite.

Spring Bank Holiday - part three

2009-05-28T18:08:00.005+01:00

Well, 'ere we goo as they say in the Black Country, a bit more about the weekend away - there is also another slant on this weekend from Steve on K2 next door http://nbk2.blogspot.com/ - he is right, the traffic was heavy, but in the main 'hail fellow, well met' sort - a quick wave or nod of thanks after giving way at a bridge hole or aqueduct.

After negotiating the Hillmorton locks and passed Rugby Boats, we came accross idiocy - but it took a while to dawn on us what was going on; only a hint. when a boater said somebody had broken down in the winding hole. How unfortunate.

Unfortunate indeed! But did this water pikie call the RCR? Oh no! Anyway, given the state of his boat, RCR membership was probably to price of a years worth of diesel - well some good Samaritan took the boat in tow apparently.

So, the boat in front of us and all those who were behind us were reduced to crawl the rest of the way to Braunston at tickover and less, when the idiots lost control of the towing process. All I have to say is that consideration and help for those in need on the Cut is paramount; but selfish fortitude at the expense of others can only be treated with the contempt with which it deserves.

The Cut is a shared resource, and so on . . . .

It would have been a simple gesture, and a sharing one to allow others enjoyment of the beautiful spring weather without getting sun burnt while trying to keep a boat in steerage way at half a mile an hour!

And so it came to pass that we were the leading vessel of a long and slow convoy arriving at Braunston, surprised that we hadn't been torpedoed by the kayaks and a rubber inflatable that was keeping up the slow pace in the the junction. So we took the first available short term berth available to us, which was opposite the 'Old Mill'. There were moorings further on past Gallows Bridge, but we didn't want to spend an extra hour getting there.

Beaurepaire fronted up mid-afternoon and David complained that he'd had a very slow trip, owing to the fact that the 'silly berk' in front of him couldn't find more revs than tickover!! More angry boaters filtered around the bend at the junction and it became obvious that everyone was blaming the only culprit they could see - the boat in front!

Meanwhile those responsible had crept on ahead, while all the chaos settled down behind - never did get to see the names on the boats.

This however, is not the spirit of boating and the rest of Sunday was glorious.

After all the mooring up and tidying away was done a lot of laughs were had with the crew of Beaurepaire and others who were looking for moorings or sorting out dog walks and visits to the pub.

One of the boats passing us had indeed five dogs aboard and Audrone attempted to picture their enthusiastic greetings as they clambered over each other to gain attention from the fo'rard gunwale of their boat. The issue was that any number would appear at once and then clamber over each other and disappear. Did five ever appear together? Mayhap, but not on camera. It was susggested that calling 'Charlie' would work. It did! Charlies scrambled up and nearly over the gunwale in tumbled mayhem - but never five faces at once!

Moored up opposite the Old Mill, we thought that apart from having to listen to pub crowds all afternoon and night, we were also in the limelight of gongoozelers (which we were). However the scene was in fact relatively quiet and we took our turn to become 'auto gongoozelers', as David, Geoff and I looked over our boats from the pub.

A bit of a jokey session was had by all that night, both in the pub and in the boats; next morning saw a (somewhat late) farewell to Beaurepaire) as all members had various and eclectic duties to perform further north the the Oxford.

I leave you with some of the interesting antics that Beaurepaire executed in order to avoid travelling for five minutes up the Grand Union to wind. I took myself elsewhere while this was happening, because I knew how busy that junction can be at any time. Besides, I wouldn't, or couldn't have been able to help myself waxing lyrical on the subject of bow-thrusters.

. . . . . . Er well, the pictures tomorrow - and the corrections.

Spring Bank Holiday - part two

2009-05-27T22:35:00.008+01:00

Just got back from ringing practice at St Johns in Brinklow. Tonight was very special, as all of us (those who are learning new stuff anyway), made great headway. Audrone gained good ground on the 4th; Tim R did well in getting to lead on the treble and I managed to get through some courses of plain hunt without prompting - an then managed to ring treble for two courses of Plain Bob (with prompting from Emily). It gives me a little confidence in that old dogs can learn new tricks.

Late it is now, so for the time being, I am going to summarise this posting and finish it tomorrow:

inconsiderate bastards

hi-jinks at Braunston

we meet a neighbour exiting Braunston Tunnel

The Admiral Nelson is back on line (real, not virtual)

A short reminiscence from this time 12 years ago

Just the one image to go on with . . but this may be replaced tomorrow:

BRAUNSTON

CRUISING

YACHT

CLUB

Come aboard and:

Explore the Braunston Tunnel - only six locks and a mile to the east
Go right at the junction and cruise the 10 miles to rugby
Take in the Warwickshire countrysied under the romance of sail
If the desire takes you, turn left at the junction and explore the beauty of Napton's nine narrow locks under sail
Negotiate Fenny Compton Tunnel in wide beam comfort

At least those huge fenders would help if a narrowboat should bump you as you swept majestically past. (That's enough sailing nonsense - ED).

Right goodnight!!

Spring Bank Holiday - Part One

2009-05-27T13:17:00.010+01:00

After a windy and sometimes rainy week, followed by an amusing if blustery Saturday - I burnt both myself and the kebabs on the Barbecue, while Jeeves was being entertained by David and Doreen, who were supposed to be at a wedding reception (D &D from NB Beaurepaire), we set of in convoy on the Sunday morning. Clean water tank full; black water tank empty; nice stable boat!

Cracking weather, no wind and plenty of sunshine. Plenty of boats too (of which more later). Heading off first and again remembering the TV aerial a split second before ramming Bridge 40 with it, we headed right into the North Oxford without banging into any boats on the way. D & D on Beaurepaire following shortly after - as can be seen in the image through a bridge hole.

We were now a convoy of three heading for the tunnel at Newbold; Gleemaiden leading (another three and we'd have a peal of boats - that's enough stupidity, Ed.). As we emerged at Newbold, an oncoming boat got just past us as we swerved to avoid him with moored boat on the starboard; he proceeded to enter the tunnel as I pointed out that there were two boats already in there.

'Two can pass.' he shouted back with a surly frown, and entered the tunnel mouth, disappearing out of sight as we rounded the sharp bend that greets your exit travelling south That wasn't the end of though, as the boat behind David was most upset by the slow speed that all this kerfuffle caused when David had to slow to tick over to pass the idiot. The boat behind kept blasting his horn at David! All this I heard later.

Our next adventure in the realm of ignorant boating was just past Newbold and and emerging from bridge 51 that Audrone spotted a boat meandering along about three or four feet from the towpath bank heading straight for us. What the . . was it doing? Audrone sounded the horn and slowly but surely it moved over enough to leave us room to pass port to port - but not before we scraped the bottom doing so! Jeeves was furious and gave vent to the steerer of the errant boat, whose compressed lips and averted stare said anything but sorry. We did get a good picture of what was taking their attention away from boat control - swans and cygnets.
With the sun beating down on the late Spring landscape, we journeyed on through the Warwickshire countryside and then through the seamier part of Rugby's industrial hinterland and a huge residential development turning hundreds of acres into a dustbowl on the south side of the bank past bridge 58. One; two; three; four and five bedroom apartments - all, claims the billboard, with canal-side views.

Once clear of the moorings and the eyesore on the starboard view, we cruised under (or nearly under) some overhanging trees. Our little visitor literally dropped in on us!

There was a flutter about my head, and Audrone jumped up from the taffrail. Then before you could say 'tiller', a little bird flapped down past my shoulder and landed heavily on the gunwale just about two feet fo'rard of my left foot.

The gunwale is an extremely narrow landing strip even for such a little bird. Well, Audrone came to the rescue and saved him/her from a watery death or being made into chop suey for the local carp or pike after passing through the prop.

The poor little thing wasn't going to go very far, because as far as we could tell he was only just a fledgeling. So inside he went to live temporarily in a surrogate nest (a hat which was more suited to a jackdaw than this one).

Meanwhile our attention was taken up with navigation and the Hillmorton locks which were coming up. So it was quited surprising to find that the little bird had found wings and sorted out for himself a spot among the hops in the dinette.

It wasn't before long though that it was evident that the little creature was tired and probably hungry. They must use up a lot of energy trying to fly and have such little body weight that for every effort there is a need for energy replenishment. This was going to be a difficult problem - we didn't know anything about what such a tiny little bird would like for elevenses.

Jeeves and I held a conference at the earliest convenience and came up with the idea that it could have a choice of water and odds and ends of finely chopped up stuff that we eat.

Then we hit upon the idea of feeding the little bird some tiny bits of 'Fat Ball' bird feeder that we use to feed the wild birds in a bird feeder. The bird proved equal to a feast of this (must praise Wyevale for this), and soon recovered energy enough to try out every perch available in the boat, accompanied by loud 'tweep' 'tweep' sounds. Also tame enough to be fed on a regular basis now.

After a quiet night, we were aroused the next day to more chirping and demand for food. Lots of flying around as well was reassuring us that this little bird was indeed much healthier and had plenty of energy. Then mid-morning I noticed that it was up and down the saloon window sill tweeting for all it was worth, looking through the window and hopping about. We heard the same tweeting coming from the hedgerow and realised that another was calling him.

So Audrone took him on her finger and released him - hopefully to friends that were waiting to show him around the Braunston hedgerows divide the cut from the fields on the southern side of the cut.

Not Granny's Button

2009-05-22T15:48:00.009+01:00

While we were in Banbury, we splashed out on a brand new button (stern fender for those not waterways wise), as our old sisal one had just about had it. We suspect that it was second hand when installed anyway, Bernard or Richard at Swiftcraft probably found it lying around the humpy that they call their workshop. Anyway it was also too short and would only protect the rudder when the helm was push it right over.

We had also tried to install the thing at our (very public mooring) in Banbury. Five minutes into this spectator sport, I dropped the shackle bolt into the cut. It is very difficult not to say things that shouldn't be heard by women and children when that sort of thing happens, so we gave up for the time being - couldn't find another shackle anyway.

I bought another shackle bolt (and a few spares) from Arrow engineering supplies in Rugby and set to work fitting the button, turnbuckles and all to the stern. This would be a lot easier if you could kneel or squat on the water while holding said button (as would cleaning and painting the other side of the boat), but that sort of feat hasn't been achieved for about 2,000 years. I really like having the taff rails to sit on and the swan neck is a wonderful steering aid, but the contortions your body performs to suspend a heavy button over the stern while fastening the shackles can be excruciating.

Luckily Neil and Ruth were here doing some work on Nerus, because Neil lent sturdy assistance from the pontoon side - he has great stamina and patience. Anyway with a bit of team effort the job was accomplished, The highest accolade should be awarded to Jeeves, who wth great determination managed to attach the bottom chain!

Brinklow Marina is indeed in a beautiful location, however it is rather exposed to the wind. Earlier I was explaining that painting the other side of the boat is a bit tricky when only one side is up against the pontoon. Neil and Ruth noticed this too, when they were placing their boat name transfers on the bows - starboard easy, port not so. But of course turning the boat around is the answer (power cable out of reach of course, but port side accessible). So Neil took Nerus out of the berth astern - it is a doddle to do a 180 degree turn in a marina this size isn't it???

While all this was supposed to be happening, it was a lovely day outside, and we were enjoying coffee and cakes in the saloon aboard Gleemaiden . . . . . .

Remember what the weather has been like? Well, it was perfectly calm when Neil backed out, but went from force 1 to force 9 on the Beaufort scale as soon as he got 10 degrees of the turn in. Narrowboats are not built for sailing, but in open water with the wind broadside on, they can go faster sideways than we are allowed to travel forwards on the canals - Nerus nearly did. So Neil decided that discretion was the better part of valour and motored down the end of the marina, turned and made another attempt. Success this time.

It was a bit of a race against time though, with Nerus approaching from the North at 3 miles an hour and a huge squall heading for the now empty pontoon from Church Laawford in the south - Neil got there first, but only just. Then of course, there was no outside work until the weather passed.

It might have been noticed by the keen sighted observers that images posted on this site have been somewhat marred by a blur in the top right hand sector of the photos. I thought that I had bought another technological lemon, with no recourse to a photographic shop to apologise and have the fault remedied. Careful observation showed a slight smudge on the lens of the camera. God knows how it got there, the thing is covered most of the time, anyway with great care and a very soft cloth, I think I have removed it. As these pictures taken subsequently by Audrone should demonstrate. They were taken last night actually; the light and colour is a bonus that can be gleaned from.

This is very tedious you know - especially editing, so . . I'm not yet ready to give up my day job as a retiree.

Topsy turvy week

2009-05-21T13:15:00.013+01:00

So much for cruising - we seem to be having April weather in May, but then that is not really daunting, as we had May weather in April and took advantage of it! This goes to shoe that we are not necessarily 'die hard' boaters and are prone to put off setting out in gale force winds and rain squalls (although if out and caught in it. . . well, that is life isn't it?).

We have however, had some good on board entertainment and some frolicking in the local watering holes with visitors - notably Loretta who dropped in last week between visits to relatives in Dublin, Donegal and York. It was good to catch up with Loretta again - she was going to visit us last year when her Aunt was in Coventry and we were in York - but then Rugby and Coventry are a lot closer to London that Bradford!

The accompanying images are not of Loretta, but of Jeeves and Aunt Agatha taken on board while dinner was being prepared - they had both visited the Plant Display at Easenhall. Those fluffy toys incidentally are the same tweety birds that hold forth conversations with their live cousins on the cut (see Blogs passim). And no, I do not think that two cans of Merydown is an excessive amount of cider - not compared with 10 cans of Carlsberg Special Brew, Gussy Finknottle!!!

Pictures when I get back. . . . . Right so here I am and there are they.

Other friends have turned up at the Marina, this week. David and Doreen who own 'Beaurepair' which is an old name for the region around and including Belper in Derbyshire.

The point made earlier about spring showers and the like were very well brought home to David and Doreen who set off at 07:00 on Tuesday morning with a good chance of getting through Hawkesbury Junction by the afternoon. They did; but not after being rained on hailed on and blown all over the cut - as I mentioned very blustery weather.

Both Doreen and David managed to lose their glasses on this trip, but David struck gold in a pub where he was having lunch: the gaffer wanted to know why he hadn't decided what to order having scrutinised the menu for some time, so David explained the predicament:

'I can't read it, can I?'

'Why not?' Asked the concerned chap.

'Lost my flippin' specs - they went in the canal' said David.

'Might be able to sort that for you, just try some of these that have been left behind.' Offered the helpful gaffer.

David did;

. . . . . . And was able to order a smashing good pub meal. hear is wearing them now, having been allowed to keep the specs that let him read his dinner menu. Pity I can't expect to do use any specs but my own - if mine were any stronger, I'd be looking at the world upside down.

Audrone had a splendid idea; we meet the intrepid pair at Stretton Stop, which we did. NB Beaurepair slid nicely through the ready opened swing bridge and I stepped aboard to meet up with everybody back at Brinklow. Audrone took Doreen by car, Richard (the son in law & Mr Van Man) must at this time have been less that amused waiting at the gate with his van, given that D & D had told him that we would be there.

Well we we weren't actually as the pictures show, we were all over the North Oxford in boats, vans and cars.

Thing is though, I have to take my hat off to David, who stood at the tiller for 14 hours. And endured one of the heaviest rainfall I've ever had to endure with the bathroom hatch only a quarter of an inch open - I was soaked and not even in the shower!

Now I have to tell the story of NERUS. But I need a new entry for this. So the next post will begin with a load of eggy nonsensense.

Aaaaagh, the whole stupid system went into meldown - here is the eggy bit anyway.

Yes, well, these little chaps seem to have some an understanding of what it is like to have an egg for breakfast - and a little bit of toast, but they don't know about that.

Neill and Ruth were doing the signwriting on NERUS while this was happening, so they are innocent!!

Another May Day

2009-05-14T17:27:00.005+01:00

A bit of a dull one today, but not lousy enough to prevent us taking a very pleasant cross country excursion (on foot) to Easenhall where we had a chat with or lady host and a nice cold glass of lager. Oddly enough, for a man of Kent, I haven't really taken to supping on the vast selection of real ales that are available. I tend to drink cider, if a decent drop is available or a nice crisp lager. And of course quite often wine, which one has to be a bit selective about, given that some pubs pass off absolute rubbish at a rather hefty price. All in all, something sparkling and refreshing is needed after a good walk.

Our host at the Golden lion in Easenhall liked our walking sticks. They were purchased in Arundel from a shop that specialises in walking sticks, carrying a very diverse stock of them - some are awfully pricey too. The one shown in the picture is the latest acquisition, but I can't remember what sort of wood it is. Has a fish in the antler horn bit of the top anyway which I suppose is quite appropriate.

A short time ago, when we were up at the crack of dawn we saw the oddest animals wandering through the shrubbery (no, it wasn't a field). They had these funny spots all over them and their faces in the half light had a piggy quality about them. We thought that they may have escaped from somewhere, but there were to many to draw that conclusion. It seems that they were giant spotted sheep, accompanied by their lambs, munching their way through the gorsy hillside adjacent to the cut.

Picasa Web Albums - Richard

2009-05-14T17:22:00.000+01:00

Picasa Web Albums - Richard

2009-05-14T16:26:00.000+01:00

Picasa Web Albums - Richard

Back at Brinklow again

2009-05-13T15:17:00.009+01:00

Slowly but surely, I am bringing these posts closer to the 'here and now'.

Spring has certainly brought some colour to Warwickshire.

Went for a bit of a walk and the countryside is buzzing with bird calls, bleating of lambs and cattle lowing.

The bluebells are quite stunning too, but mostly hidden in the woods behing signs of 'Private Wood - Keep Out'. Not very welcoming or sharing, but nobody there to enforce against a peek at the flowers.

That us enough chat for the moment, methinks I put too much text into this activity.

However, there is one more important thing to say; we would both like to wish Neil and Ruth from NB Nerus a very warm congratulations on their 30th wedding anniversary. When we celebrate our 30th, we might be a little older than the youthful Neil and Ruth!

. . . . . and more bluebells.

A day in Cropredy

2009-05-12T10:06:00.009+01:00

As well as having two interesting pubs and a magnificent church, this village is probably most famous for the folk festival that is held here in August every year since Fairport Convention played their farewell concert here forty years ago. Appropriately the festival is called; Fairport's Cropredy Convention. We intend to attend this year's event, taking the boat rather than a tent, but I believe that moorings get a bit thin on the ground over this particular weekend.

The village is also famous for a battle that was fought here during the Civil War in 1644. The events are commemorated in Ralph McTell's song Red And Gold, recorded by Fairport Convention, and the bridge over the River Cherwell has an informative information board.

Of the two pubs, the Red Lion is probably the most picturesque, both inside and out, given that it is a thatched mid-terraced building opposite the church in (you guessed it) Red Lion Street - This is how they describe themselves:

'It would be difficult to imagine a more picturesque building than The Red Lion Inn with its walls of honey-coloured local stone and its roof of grey, beautifully crafted thatch. Even the porch has its own covering of thatch.'

As it happens, the food is jolly good too, and reasonably priced. The only things is; what about the history of the pub? The owners who have their own website, appear to be asking the same question! By the way, notice in the picture above that there are straps like those seen on the London underground for hanging on to - I wonder what they are for???

Before having our meal in the Red Lion, we spent some time looking through St Mary the Virgin church opposite and there are some very interesting historic features to be found in there, although I believe that the suit of armour and Civil War mementos are follies, the real items being stolen many years ago.

The Bells are rung from the ground floor beneath a huge 14ft pendulum belonging to the clock mechanism high above, just below the belfry.

I was also obliged to listen to a sermon given by the Very Rev. Audrone before I was given shore leave to visit the Red Lion! See below.

The next day, I did ring the bells (well the fourth actually), at a special practice night that was held for all ringers in the district. It was lucky that on this occasion we were moored nearby and heard the bells start much earlier than their advertised time of 19:00, because I would have missed out if I hadn't wandered up immediately. The session was run by an Australian woman who came across as very authoritarian and wouldn't countenance plain hunt and only allowed one session of call changes, so rather than hang around hoping, I meandered back to the boat.

Never mind, we got back to Brinklow in time for a much more productive practice on Wednesday and had a jolly good ring for the Service on Sunday. We sounded quite professional in fact, even if there were only five of us.

Now here is a short pictorial presentation of Cropredy, followed by a brief story of the man from Suid Africa:

The South African chap was moored up next to the Canal bridge nearest to the store. and as we passed on the towpath heading for Gleemaiden and full of good cheer and food

from the Red Lion, we came across three people sitting in their well-deck. Chap turned out to be called Richard (which caused some interesting confusion in the introductions) and the two ladies were visiting friends. They asked us aboard and we swapped stories over a few glasses of red wine. The renowned hospitality that is legendary on The Cut was further reinforced!!

A bit more about Banbury and Cropredy

2009-05-09T15:20:00.000+01:00

I know, I know, I am so stupidly slow in keeping up with what has happened on this site, that much of it is past history by the time it is written. Never mind though. the observations remain the same and the pictures were obviously take in 'real time'.

The Oxford canal is not only shallow, but very narrow in places, it is no wonder that working boats weren't fond of using it. David Blagrove also mentions the use of 'Banbury stick' to open and close the lift bridges in his book 'Bread On The Waters' as a time saving device when working a boat through them. Mind you, these days most of them have been removed or remain in the open position, which when not having to operate them, makes it easy to say 'what a pity'. I wonder if we would ever say that about the horrid swing bridges on the Leeds & Liverpool Canal?

Banbury has a lift bridge still in use, of course it does! It is in the centre of the museum and historic boatyard part of the town centre stretch. This one though is operated by windlass and much easier to open that the average lock paddle. Children seem to enjoy riding up and down the balance beam despite being admonished by a safety conscious Jeeves who was working the boat through at the time.

This is a very busy bit of waterway, and on our return, we found ourselves negotiating firstly the lock, then watering up and passing back through the lift bridge all in the space of about two hundred yards. Meanwhile other boaters kept the lock and the bridge active, while teenagers sat around on steps at the entrance to the Castle Key shopping complex. This is a huge development about which I can't think of anything nice to say - except that the toilets were clean.

One good thing about Banbury is that there are plenty of good moorings right in the centre of town. It would appear the the Council has decided that their new development and picturesque surroundings replete with a footbridge over the canal and lot of canal-side seating, would be better enhanced by having boaters who really do move around and wish only to stay one or two days rather than 14 days to 14 years, turning the towpath into a sort of side garden for storing old household furniture and other rubbish carefully protected with bright blue plastic sheets.

All being equal, it is rather splendid to be able to be able to moor up in the middle of such a historic town. last time we were here was 1997 and were besotted by the idea that the Oxford Canal ran through Banbury itself. Back then we were too interested in the canal to pay much attention to Banbury and left it to drive on to Braunston. We saw a lot more this time, although sadly the original cross has been replaced by a 19th. century version, part of the atmosphere remains, despite the Castle Key shopping mall. How's this for a wine shop? Very pricey though, annoyingly enough, the only off licence in the whole of Banbury - it was lucky that we didn't have to purchase anything until we returned to Cropredy, all wet rations safely aboard in the bond store.

There are of course some magnificent old pubs in Banbury, but our favourite was the 'Ye Olde Reindeer', an Elizabethan pub dating from 1570 according to Michael Pearson. The staff were wonderfully friendly and recommend that we view the Globe Room where Oliver Cromwell held court while planning battles such as that of Cropredy Bridge. The whole room has been restored after being sold and left to collect dust in a London warehouse for many years. The original ceiling is still missing. The landlord sent shivers down our spines when he told us that the whole room would have been sold to a collector in the United States, had the sale gone through. Anyway, it is back where it belongs now and looks every bit at good as it does in the paintings on the walls and in the corridors leading to the room.

We had lunch there the following day, soaking up the atmosphere. Can't say much for the lunch though. All in all a lovely part of our history, set in a wonderful low beamed traditional pub.

Well, here is something Elisabethan to rub along with our visit to Banbury:

Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross

To see a fine lady upon a white horse

With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes

She shall have music wherever she goes

The nursery rhyme was most likely related to a visit made by Queen Elizabeth in the 16th century. It is none the less rather evocative of an Oxfordshire town in those days. One one wonders what good Queen Bess would have made of seeing a canal running past the town centre.

To Banbury - part two

2009-05-03T11:13:00.000+01:00

Napton Locks - the bottom lock,

. . .and this one is about half way.

I never went back to edit the last post and put in the pictures as that I meant to - I always find distractions from writing this, It is a bit like doing University assignments; even doing dishes looks interesting. It is now another day, so here they are on this one instead.

Another break, , , back later . . . . and here we are back again. Much water (or boat actually) under the bridge.

When we moored up at Marston Doles, a very naughty pussy cat belonging to the boat ahead of us leaped on board and proceeded to inspect the saloon, before being called back by its owner who said 'sorray' several times. Just above the top lock at Marston Doles is a lovely place to moor, very peaceful, lots of birds,but no pubs or shops - so stock up on the wet and dry rations before you get there.

Thursday was not particularly good weather wise, but we had expected that, having monitored to Met forecast fairly closely. A start at 0745 hours gave us a good start for the long windy bit of the Oxford and the narrow part which used to be Fenny Compton Tunnel until the roof was removed.

Now this whole things has us rather bemused; firstly what happened to the roof? And secondly, where did they put it? The fenny thing is that as you go along (or through) Fenny Compton Tunnel today, you wonder how a roof could have fitted over the fairly low embankments either side of the canal. If you wanted to restore it to proper tunnel status, all that is needed is a glass roof like the one over Paddington and other London railway stations. Luckily we didn't meet an eager boater coming the other way - there definitely isn't any room for passing! Speaking of Railway Towns and villages; or sort of anyway, out in the fields we passed what surely must be Greater Foxwood (see picture) but Audrone wouldn't let me stop to introduce myself to the inhabitants. There must be at least two pubs in there and a huge goods yard. I can only surmise that all the engines and rolling stock would have to be LMS as the Oxford Canal is adjacent to the town. . .

Along this stretch of the cut the landscape is open and largely

unpopulated, medieval ridge and furrow can clearly be seen even though the land has long been enclosed and used largely for grazing or growing crops of rape, corn etc. The livestock look at you with brown staring eyes and I think of Syd Barratt after he had imbibed too much LSD - the lights are on, but there's nobody home. We did pass some bulls though, which I think may have wished that if they could walk on water would have had a rum time with us.

We wondered what the funny looking sheds were that seemed to have been dumped and half sunk into the banks not far from water's edge. Then Audrone noticed that these were not frail wooden lean-to's but constructed from solid concrete block with small square windows. They are WW2 bunkers or blockhouses; the last line of defence put in place to resist the invading Germans should they have arrived. It just goes to show how far we were prepared to go before reaching the last line of defence. These blockhouses are right in the 'heart of England', after them, there is nothing left to defend! There was a documentary on this subject about six months ago on the BBC, it seems that we would have been successful in defending the country even if the Germans had landed, and also goes to show how determined my father's generation were to do so.

The Claydon flight was the next obstacle for us to tackle. The odd thing is that we are actually getting to enjoy the locking up and down. I think this is attributable to the diminutive lock width and extra length that the narrow waterways present. Oop North the locks are short, but wide, deep and heavy to operate. However it was on this flight that Audrone encountered some pretty silly boaters of the hire boat species.

We all know that there are learning curves and such to be negotiated when starting out and that boating is not a race against time, but really; to open only one paddle a notch at a time before walking over to check how much water is going into the lock? And then spending an extra five minutes in the lock after they had to gate open. . . is fine, and wouldn't have mattered if I hadn't anticipated that they were actually going to continue their cruise instead of having a cup of tea in the lock with the gate open. Suffice to say that when the said boat did edge cautiously from the lock, Gleemaiden was now sitting mid-channel, with no where to go, so I get scowled at by the steerer as he had to get close to the bushes to pass.

Anyway, can't moan, other boaters were really helpful and we mostly had a good road to Cropredy. But here I have to mention another gripe; why is it that we, who pay a hefty license fee every year, on top of £2K for a spot in a marina and insurance, RCR etc, only to find that when we get to a lovely village like Cropredy where we wish to spend 24 - 48 hours moored up, all the moorings except for three boatlengths are reserved for 'long term' moorers owned by BW. What is more incessantly irritating, is that they have all the best spots that visitors could use! For one thing, I would like to know how much the blighters pay for these moorings (if anything) and why they are allowed to make an eyesore of the cut with rusted and decrepit boats that rightly should have 'PIKIES 'R' US' stencilled on the shabby upperworks.

Cropredy though is a gorgeous village abounding with history both ancient and recent. But more of that after I have been to the bellringing practice at St Mary the Virgin Church on Monday night.

To Banbury - part 1

2009-05-02T10:31:00.000+01:00

We decided on Tuesday night that since the weather was looking good for the following day and we had topped up with water and diesel, it would be a good thing for us to set off early and get ourselves down to Banbury before the bank holiday weekend. So we did, setting off at 0830 hours on Wednesday morning in the bright spring sunshine.

The trip to Braunston was pretty uneventful and has been remarked on before (see blogs passim), although Audrone managed to snap a much better picture of the northern approach to Braunston than we have managed previously. Also we had the big drama with the stern gland. . .

This is an ongoing problem that we seem to encounter quite a lot. What in effect happens is that a horrid whining noise (like a Qantas jet at Heathrow airport), sets up and apart from the grating on the nerves, is very worrying - giving rise to dire thoughts of the engine or gear box seizing up or even the stern gland disintegrating and water flooding into the engine!! So Audrone rang Aunt Agatha (AKA Pip) to see if she could locate John Cook, Brinklow's resident engine genius.

Martin (Pip's partner) was sent racing around the marina looking for John, thinking that we had completely broken down - I think we owe Martin a beer or two! John was eventually found and rang us to see what the problem was. He seems to think that the noise is a harmonic sound set up by the type of prop that we have, and that if the bearings or the stern gland weren't hot to touch there was little
to worry about. In fact the problem seems to be that we need to wind the grease screw more tightly and more frequently than we have been doing. Anyway, we are living with it at present, it has become just a minor irritation.

Have a look at this bridge - it looks more like a bridge that has gone to seed, or worse. . . . or is it the result of shelling that we haven't heard about??

The bridge that's gone too far.

After making the right hand turn into the part of the cut that is called either the Oxford Canal, the Grand Union, or both; we headed past Napton Junction, stopping to let another boat come through the turn. The chap steering said there was another boat about to enter. Well it wasn't, and stupidly we waited for them to nose their way into the main canal. They then showed us how slow people can really be. But as luck would have it they pulled over to moor before we faced a bad road following behind them.

Napton is beautifully situated on a hill (hence the full name of the village). We have moored up here before, and I have climbed to hill over to the other side, it is indeed a very pretty village. The canal of course, winds all around the hill, before you arrive at the Locks. Now that I've seen it from the top of the hill and all compass points from the cut, I must say that all the pictures that you see in the guides and magazines can't really make it as real as it is seen from the steerer's position.

The locks themselves are also remarkably picaresque and not overly difficult (saw good reason to take in the fenders though, only width for the boat in some). We were awfully pleased to have made Marston Doles in the one day, as well as finding a good mooring at the top lock. All ready for the morning then.

. . . . . . .Pictures to follow, have to move boat.

On the subject of honey and other things

2009-04-28T13:12:00.000+01:00

A few entries previous to this one, I mentioned that we spent an enjoyable day at Newnham Paddox attending the Daffodil Sunday fair. While browsing through the stalls and walking down to the lake, Audrone came upon a fascinating exhibition set up by the Rugby branch of the Warwickshire Beekepers' Association (Dr Bruce Roberts is the contact person for the Rugby branch). Their website is http://www.warwickshirebeekeepers.org.uk/, I can highly recommend the honey that they produce.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, a jar of the raw organic hard-set honey was purchased and eventually came to be opened last Thursday. In retrospect, I did find it a little odd that there was no label and no seal on the lid. Even more surprising was that a large scoop had been taken out from the otherwise pristine jar of honey.

I don't suppose Winnie the Pooh would have minded too much as he appeared often to be eating half consumed jars of honey, but Audrone was not at all happy, so she looked up the organisation on the Internet and wrote an e-mail (slightly tongue in cheek), asking if it was normal practice to sell second hand jars of honey at country fairs.

About an hour later, Dr Roberts (not the same one as he 'who will make you fine' on the Beatles Revolver LP), rang to apologise and explain that he had indeed been expecting a call or e-mail since the jar that he had taken a large spoonful from, for tasting purposes before the stall opened, had disappeared while he was demonstrating bee handling!!

Anyway, Dr Roberts kindly offered to replace the jar, dropping one around to us personally. So I asked him if he wouldn't mind dropping it off at the Post Office store in Brinklow as it would be easier for him than at the marina, and that we often stopped in there anyway. On Saturday, I dropped around to pick this up and duly found it had been left there.

All this silly shopping talk does have a point however, and this is it; when I picked up the small parcel (which included a letter and a bar of beeswax as well), the lady in charge of the Post Office (Louise Thornton) was most intrigued. It turns out that Ms Thornton also owns/manages the Brinklow delicatessen and is looking for a supplier of good local honey - much of the produce in her store is local and very good, especially the eggs.

So I gave her what details I had and e-mailed her the rest, which means that hopefully, the Brinklow deli will have another fine product to add to their stock. This is typical of village life around here, I suppose.

On the subject of local produce, Steve from K2 the our next door neighbour informed me yesterday that our trip to Sutton Stop was not all that well timed, given that we missed the Beer Festival held at the Greyhound on the weekend. We didn't entirely miss the beer festival though, it was in full swing when we visited the Merchant's Hotel in Rugby town centre on the same weekend. http://www.merchantsinn.co.uk/ where we enjoyed some interesting ciders as well as one or two that I was tempted to pour into a plant pot had one been handy.

Neil and Ruth from Nerus (berthed behind K2, so also neighbours), returned from a week's trip to Banbury and gave us such a glowing report that we will be setting off ourselves on Thursday, heading for the same destination - maybe even as far as Oxford. Neil and Ruth certainly had the fine weather going for them, here's hoping that we get a good run ourselves.

Looks like bellringing will probably have to go by the board next Sunday, but we had a good session last Sunday, ringing for nearly the full half hour non stop. Only rounds and call changes, mind you, but we have to keep up good striking for the Sunday service.

Unfortunately, this entry has been delayed by the fact that the whole wireless Internet system that I use went on the blink yesterday and my hands were tied - must have spent hours on the phone to Vodafone trying to sort it, but suspect my own hand in it's downfall by leaving the dongle out in yesterdays wind and rain. Thought I'd sealed all the places where moisture can get in, but I'm not sure. Anyway, it seems to be working today, but I will take it down to the shop in Rugby to have it checked out this afternoon.

The sun is out again (sort of) and yellow seems to be the predominant flowering colour again at the marina, even though the daffodils have gone.

St George's Day and things

2009-04-26T17:08:00.000+01:00

Thursday was St George's Day, although one of our friends was completely unaware of this, asking why all the flags and people wearing St George Cross hats in Coventry. What annoys me is that this is our country, our Patron Saint and that half of the idiots who live here would rather celebrate St Patrick's day or something equally fatuous and foreign. What on earth have we got to thank the Irish for?

Anyway, enough of that, the eve of the 23rd, was bell ringing practice at St John the Baptist in Brinklow (an every Wednesday event), and It was pleasing to see that two of the ringers went aloft to hoist the flag over the church tower.

Speaking of bellringing and St John's, I must say that it is a pleasure to ring the bells here, and I should also mention that we are in the process of raising funds for the installation of two new bells in the tower. At the moment we have a ring of six, which though adequate and lovely to ring, would be greatly enhanced with two more, making a ring of eight and giving the ringing team greater opportunity to enhance the number of methods that we can ring.

Audrone and I are still learning to ring (different stages of course) and I should mention that Tom, who is pictured here teaching Audrone is running a marathon which (hopefully his legs) will take him all the way to London. The wonderful thing about Tom's run is that he is donating all the money that people have subscribed toward the bell fund and that is indeed a magnificent gesture. I find that winding the tower clock pretty heavy going, never mind running a marathon.

I should add that the village of Brinklow is rather fond of the church bells and residents and churchgoers certainly give us feedback if a) we ring badly and b) if we don't ring at all on those special occasions like Christmas, New Year and Easter. So if there are any likely bellringer boaters reading this, please come and have a ring at St John's in Brinklow. You would be most welcome.

Now here's a funny thing; the fish are back. Audrone got some great pictures of them. Someone said that they could be fed by hand if you are patient with them and continue to encourage them, but I must admit that looking at this lot, I wonder if one's hand would be safe near those jaws - don't suppose they have any teeth though. Here are some more images of the monsters from the deep:

In for the kill. . . .

They like the dog food - will they eat the dog?

A quick turn as the prey moves astern

Bloody hell I'm hungry, I could eat a horse!!

Hawkesbury - a Sutton stop

2009-04-22T18:55:00.000+01:00

Right! Well here we are on our way to Sutton stop as

promised. . . . . . But I can't finish this bit tonight 'cause that bells are calling again and I'll see; I might do it later. There are some super photos to look forward to.

So here we were: Cracking day, and you wouldn't believe it - another spur of the moment start after a pump-out. Well, I suppose you need to wash your hands after a week or two of being moored up doing spring boating touch-ups and the like.

So on an impulse, off we we went for another trip to the junction, only the bicycle was removed - we weren't going to need it on a short trip. Anyway, here are some pictures of a perfect English spring day (well two actually). It is amazing how much gardening and spring cleaning can be done while under way!!

With high spirits and lots of Spring optimism we thumped our way past the M6 and then Ansty - thought of mooring but decided that a drink in the Greyhound was in order.

Has anyone noticed that there is a 'Super car' graveyard just outside of Sutton Stop? Well, in this weather you could hardly miss it. I have in the past with hat pulled low over 'wind swept brows', however on this day, the owneror gardener was busily pushing a mower between the dead cars and vans. Very noble, I'm sure, but judging from the length of the grass growing under wings, fenders and rusting bodywork, none of them were going very far. I did though catch a glimpses of Jeremy Clarkson and his team looking over the hedge and wondering whether their prides and joy were going to be lurking in a canal side meadow. letting the grass grow under their wheels.

So Here we are minutes later (got her on the plane with the twin diesels for last bit) at Hawkesbury junction!!

Waiting for the stop lock while a boat was coming through, I heard a voice in my ear telling me 'you're going over that bridge boy, whether you like it or not!'

Turning around, I asked 'what??' Only to find that the gentleman giving the order was talking to his large shag-pile Labrador. We got chatting and he was most interested in Gleemaiden (quite a bit of technical stuff). And best of all with cigar in mouth, helped Audrone push the lock gate open. When the gate was again closed, bot dog and gentlemen crossed via the gate - no need for the bridge, I think the dog decided.

Now, there are disasters and disasters, but Sutton Stop is not the place to have a whole branch suddenly caught up in the blades and rudder. Well, if it can, it will and did.

Nothing was obvious as I made an exit from the stop lock and I certainly didn't expect anything. Gleemaiden passed the boat waiting to enter to lock and had to take a somewhat shallow turn, putting the bows through the Horsley Ironworks bridge and nosing slowly into the Coventry canal beyond.

All seemed to go well, but steering a little sluggish, until I put her astern!! All manner of horrid noises erupted from underneath the counter. The worst was a thrashing sound like somebody had lashed a cat-of-nine-tails to the prop shaft using steel wire. It was awful.

Worse was that there were gongoozelers hanging over the towpath bridge at the junction (only about a dozen), but there must have been about fifty hanging around the Greyhound beer garden. I didn't look. pictures show them watching the show.

In the end, with quite a bit of coaxing from the engine, a little help from the wind and the fact that I still had a good bit of forward thrust, Gleemaiden came into perfect line for the re-entry of the lock. I did think of mooring up on the starboard approach bollards, but we both decided that the water point above the lock was a more appropriate place to carry out the weed hatch business.

It was half a willow branch tangled with hawthorn, but with a bit of knife and pliers it was dragged free from behind the counter by Audrone. Maybe we should also keep some secateurs on board. Why is it that you always manage to cut one of your fingers when clearing rubbish from around the blades? Never mind, we found a good mooring about 200 yards further down where we decided that dinner on board was now a good option. And guess what?? No BBQ and no lamb!

It was therefore to the greyhound that we repaired - only to find that we had a good two hour wait before dinner was available, so two two ciders later we were back on the boat cobbling together a makeshift meal, followed by an early night. Putting up the television aerial for one night seemed a bit of a time wasting exercise and besides neither of us could remember whether there was anything worthwhile watching.

An early start the next morning saw us heading back down the canal toward Brinklow. Another cracking day and the wollens were soon off and jackets discarded as the sun rose higher in the blue sky.

Audrone got out the blackbird, goldfinch and Robin again and fooled the birdlife in the hedgrows that we passed into talking to a narrowboat. These fluffy toys have realistic bird calls for educating people to recognise British birdsong. They were purchased from Wyvale Garden Centre at Church Lawford, after much testing and laughter - especially when two shop assistance came out of the office and stalked up arms akimbo to find three senior members of the public trying amidst some hilarity, all the birds on display. The second childhood has arrived already, can't wait for the third!!

WE stopped to fuel up at Rose Narrowboats and caused quite a bottle-neck when we had to moor breasted up as the third boat accross the cut to reach the diesel point. They allow you to self declare at Rose, but I'll only say that I din't claim 100% domestic use or 100% cruising. Chap at the counter told me that the officials had gone through his declaration forms last week.

Whilst we were fuelling up a Rose, a boat came by with a couple of well known characters on board. They were Ron and Beryl Wilson. Ron used to be a working boatman and his boat is a cut down and converted 'Josher', according to the chap at Rose Narrowboats. Interestingly, his son is also in the boat business and ownd Les Wilson Boats, but is too young to have been on the working boats. As a matter of fact Ron himself must have been fairly young when the majority of them ceased trading after the 1963 big freeze which was when BW pulled the plug and only a handful of small operaters like Willow Wren kept going for about another five years.

After which we were shortly back at the marina - with bell-ringing to look forward to in the evenin.

Daffodill Sunday

2009-04-22T17:39:00.000+01:00

A lot of people around the Revel group of village parishes had been looking forward to 19 April this year when Daffodil Sunday was to be held at Newnham Paddox once again on the property of the Earl and Duchess of Denbigh. So were we, especially with weather forecast looking so good for days in advance.

So the day was! It started off cool but sunny and continued that way and just getting warmer and warmer. But anyway, we English talk too much about the weather, so more about the event.

Got to the grounds at 10:30 and found Emily on the gate doing a Stirling job of directing early visitors and late stall holders to where they could park etc. Emily pointed us in the right direction to the St John's Bell ringers stall where we found Jenny and a stall which was just about ready for business - a good thing too, as there were quite a few visitors already milling around looking at arts crafts, produce and other exhibitions.

Our job for the day was to look after this stall and raise as much as we could by selling merchandise and 'triangles' in the treasure hunt to raise money for the new bells that we are hoping to have installed in St John's tower at Brinklow. It was however the 'treasure hunt' that drew the most interest and many 'triangles' were sold. Of course a lot of punters thought we knew where it was - but didn't, only Bernard who designed the wonderful map of the Revel district knew the answer to that (we hope).

During breaks from stall minding, Audrone and I took turns to walk around the park and lake, to visit some of the other stalls, look at the exhibitions of farm machinery, classic cars and a couple of really vintage petrol and diesel engines demonstrated by Tim Wykes.

The walk around the lake is super, and there were lots of families and people out to enjoy it. The natural beauty of the lake and its surrounding trees, shrubs and (of course) bulbs, is further enhanced by sculptures set along the path at irregular intervals. They are reflective but allusive and the themes vary from classic images to some modern earth-mother iconism. I am sure that anyone walking around the two lakes set in these rural and mainly agricultural grounds would find peace and solace reclining in the many and well placed parkland seats there.

There are of course lots of other things to talk about this day but it is probably best to tell it in pictures instead . . . . . . Oh and this is only the first part of three short catch-up-postings for this week!

So that is about it for Daffodillia, next stop is er. . . . . well yes, SUTTON STOP!!

Hunting, gathering and salvage

2009-04-18T15:51:00.000+01:00

Now this has been quite an interesting week. As the month progresses, so the hedges put on more greenery and the lambs beging to disappear - one of the fields in Fennis Field farm now has only sheep where lambs were frolicking last week. Another good recipe for Lancashire Hot Pot in this month's issue. Well well, it isn't really hot pot weather any more.

We have of course, had an extraordinary windy week, with Wednesday being to the breeziest. Now this was a pity for the boat that sells remarkably cheap diesel was due this day and we had taken the cash from the hole in the wall to pay for a top-up. Alas it was not to be.

As it happened, Simon took NB Druss out into the centre of the marina already for a trip out to a suitable mooring point where the canal joins Cathiron Lane. We, NB Hetty Peggler, Suzie Q and Druss were all going to meet NB Ghosty Hill. Unfortunately the engine on Druss went slower and slower as she reversed into the marina and once out died completely. Although at this stage we were unaware of this problem and thought that the reason she was gliding down to the south end of the marina was quite deliberate. We also thought that Simon had plenty of help at that stage.

The next thing was that NB Druss had gone sailing without a mast and wound up against the end of two pontoons at the South end of the marina and without motive power. helping hands started gathering and attempts were made to restart the engine, but to no avail. No cause or resolution has been found yet, but in the interim rescue was needed.

So, Gleemaiden became a salvage vessel, and what a job that was with the wind gusting across the open landscape from the Northwest. As soon as we were away from the pontoon she weather-cocked with the bows trying to overtake the stern while I backed up to the other end of the marina where Druss was pinned against the pontoons by the wind.

Eventually I managed to bring Gleemaiden alongside (didn't have to use much starboard helm to get alongside - the wind did all that). We then roped up butty style like a pair of working boats and waited for a lull in the wind. The port bow thruster was no use since all it did was splash water on Druss's bow - and that was the one that would have helped. There was however the trusty Audrone who managed to push the pair of the pontoons sufficiently enough for us to get under weigh and heading into the wind instead of obliquely against it.

All rather fun really, and I was just starting to reminisce about working boats and butties when we reached Simon's pontoon, or didn't really, because I turned for the wrong side of it and any attempts to get back out into the channel were frustrated by the wind. So we let go, and after some frustrating maneuverings, managed to get Gleemaiden down to the North end of the marina for a good calculated turn into our pontoon. This would have gone fine too, if it hadn't been for some some empty headed twit coming toward me, going out, when I wanted to turn starboard and wide to make a good landing at the pontoon. Would you believe that this twerp was insisting that I pass by port to port???

There is absolutely no sense in making a 60ft boat do another complete traverse of the open water and back again just to satisfy the rules of the road. Of course we don't make that sort of manoeuvre on the cut!!!

Tied up and relaxing, we had a drink and discussed what to do next. Of course bell ringing practice was out for that night and so we had (yes another) barbecue. Much later than planned of course, but lot of stories and adventures were related after the meal.

During the week, some books that we ordered arrived, including one about foraging for food in the countryside (and even your garden). Now you might think that this of no consequence, but Jeeves and Aunt Agatha took to the woods and field on bike and foot. They found an abundance of wild vegetables and herbs and have an appetite for more foraging. If they let me I shall join them.

Now today, Steve from NB K2 is polishing the brass on his traditional and very engine like donkey as he calls it. There is not only brass on this beauty, but some smashing copper work as well. I hope this picture gives you an idea of what a good looking engine Russell Newbury were and why thier owners on working boats used to spend time polishing the brasses.

Big pond little fish. . . . .

2009-04-13T16:29:00.000+01:00

Woke up this morning after a wonderful evening spent with Ruth and Neil from NB Nerus. They had invited us across for a drink last night after we had finished our dinner (another barbecue) - a lovely evening, but hardly conducing to writing anything after having safely negotiated crossing the pontoon. . . .

Well, off they went this morning and we surfaced very refreshed to the beginings of what is turning out to be a lovely day. So breaking of the fast over, I noticed the most amazing ripples in the water between us and the pontoon opposite.

A shimering form glissaded toward the window and then slid under the boat, I thought I saw a fin followed by a coat of scales belonging to something large and underwater. An enormous ripple followed by a whirlpool erupted just off the starboard side near our side hatch. I thought of aligaters or crocodiles having borrowed a silly movie from simon about such a subject called Lake Placid (an American horror film lent to us by Simon from NB Druss). But no, it were only friendly and lazy carp who were eating the bread put out for our brooding swans.

Huge things they are though - at least two or three feet long. When I am at the doctor's surgery there is a magazine of that name and it always seems to be on the top of the pile. The thing is that every picture of a carp caught looks the same. So did these, but they are very impressively large, and unlike the fishermen in the magazines, I didn't fancy cuddling one. Do they smell??

Absolutely perfect weather for snapping pictures of daffodill at the marina and a jolly good chance for Aunt Agatha and Jeeves to shuffle off for a ride on their respective velocipedes, while Simon 'The Pieman' mended the tyres and innertubes on his bike which needed attention. It should be noted that Simon's bike is an old Raleigh folding number which having lifted, I wouldn't rate awfully portable unless you were carrying it from the dormitory vestibule to Daddy's car for an Exiat Sunday outing.

So, with such a lovely start to Easter I thought I would put some photograpsh of the marina and the daffodills. Suppose I should put one of the bike mending too. But here are some more attractive ones of Audrone doing a few odd jobs and enjoying the spring sunshine. And of cours, some more daffodils. Hang on a minute, is that our boat that someone is sitting on? Looks awfully like K2 if you ask me.

Easter and All That

2009-04-12T16:13:00.000+01:00

Well well well, it is Easter and St John's at Brinklow rang in the special service with some well executed rounds and call changes with only four glitches that called for bad striking - three of them mine! I imagine that we also called the URC service to worship as well, given that theirs was also at 10:30.

Audrone has been for a long bike ride and also to visit Aunt Agatha (AKA Pip from Hetty Peggler), while I labour over the blog. I finally found out how to include other links on to this one, so it just goes to show that self-learning can be achieved. One is so used to being trained or taught everything these days, that you tend to forget that even pilots, drivers and of course computer users had to teach themselves at one time.

A new toy has been purchased in the way of a camera. Bought to replace the old digital Nikon that we had - a useful enough item for taking snapshots etc, but not high enough in megapixels or telescopic magnification for taking pictures of wildlife or getting anything published in magazines etc.

So now we are learning to use a brand new Samsung WB500 camera which does all these things and so many more that I have spent a whole day reading the manual and following up with practice shots and experiments with the machine itself. This has to be done via the computer screen, because there is no such thing as a printed manual anymore. Although there is a brief and flimsy folder that tells you where to do your research and most stridently how to dispose of the 'item' when it has reached its 'use by date'. The latter would assume (probably correctly) that in three years time, a £269 camera is no longer of any use whatsoever and that you will be be buying something new. You certainly won't be selling it second hand - nobody wants our Nikon, even as a gift.

Needless to say, I took some pretty silly pictures by way of practising the use of said camera, after which an enjoyable barbecue was had, despite the cold weather and drizzle. It was a rather muffled up barbecue chef slaving over the coals tonight.

It's all a bit naff really.

Sutton Stop and back - a Sunday outing

2009-04-06T16:16:00.000+01:00

All week long I have been opening up the Met site for Church Warden and looking at the five day forecast to see what Sunday would bring. Each day it promised sunshine all day and lovely spring temperatures. Come Saturday this had changed to cloudy with sunny periods with a max of 14.

So we decided to go ahead with our plan for a barbecue at Sutton's Stop (Hawkesbury Junction in Nicholson's and Pearson's guides). This should entail a two or two and half hour trip - although one pessimistic loony here told us it would be four hours each way.

Six thirty on Sunday brought the predicted sunrise in a clear sky and things certainly looked good, so after a hearty breakfast, I set off to St.John the Baptist church to ring in ther 09:00 Palm Sunday service. Brinklow was bathed in morning sunlight and primroses speckled the grass in front of the church - very spring.

Didn't stop for the service - bellringers are renowned for sneaking out of the tower and heading to the pub instead, but not at 9 o'clock! So down to the shop for tom sauce and bottle of wine for the barbecue. But wait! not allowed to purchase from the off licence until 10:00am on Sabbath, so back to the boat.

A trip to the garage at Newbold reveals that this rule doesn't seem to apply to 24 hour garages with an offie attached so, fill the tank and shopping bag and back to the boat.

This is going to be quite a long day. The next job is a pump-out, the details of which I am sure can be left out: suffice to say that the mission was accomplished by 11:00 when our visitor and fellow traveller for the day was due to arrive.

With Emily through the gate and having moored her La ndrover at pier 17w, We headed out of the marina and turned left (for a change) on our way to hawksbury junction. Emily proved to have a wealth of local knowledge as we motored down Cathiron straight and past Brinklow before reaching Rose Narrowboats (http://www.rose-narrowboats.co.uk/) where we let Mr Mercury through the pedestrian swing bridge before continuing on our way.

There was a forty mile orienteering event this Sunday, which meant that on the towpath, adjoing footpaths and bridlways were throngs of walking and jogging competitors with whom the crew had frequent conversations from the stern. There were also many farm animals about, some drinking from the canal.

Wildlife was in abundance and in particular birds in the hedgerows. The wild birds kept up a lively conversation with the fluffy toy ones that we bought at Wyvale nursery - which goes to show that the makers claim the these stuffed toys have bona fide calls for 'educational purposes' is true. A blackbird and a robin to wit(sic). Audrone kep[t them chirping by pressing their buttons.

The sun was well over the yard-arm by the time we reached Ansty, so wet rations were broken out and we cruised onward and closer to Hawkesbury junction, passing a garden full of dead 'classic' and 'super' cars and a few other unidentifiable pieces of motoring has beens.

When we arrived at the junction, the Greyhound was teeming with Sunday afternoon revellers and their families - at least outside was, we didn't see inside. Gongoozlers thronged the towpath and lock side, even leaning over the towpath bridge. Unfortunately for them we didn't touch anything or run aground before negating the stop lock again and heading out to find a mooring for our barbecue.

We found a great spot not far back down the cut from the junction nice deep earth to sink the pins into. So we moored up and fired up the barbecue. The wind was up a bit, but the sun still shone and conversation flowed freely between passing boaters and towpath walkers.

The district was of course the heart of the warwickshire coalfields and has a very rich industrial history - there is still a huge power installation alongside the canal not far from where we were moored; but the scene was rural and very tranquil from where we were moored.

Well this time the barbecue worked perfectly, though for those who think is going to start cooking things in 7-10 minutes, it doesn't. But properly loaded with charcoal, does an magnificent job and could easily cook enough to feed eight people three times over if you planned it right. The plates keep up a cooking temperature for a long time after you have done your first lot, you could use it for another two or three rounds!

This has another advantage in that the whole unit can also be then closed and kept burning slowly while the steerer straddles it to keep warm as the afternoon chill creeps in on the way back to the marina. Not a patio heater, but a counter heater - most efficatious for semi trad boats.

A foxton trip

2009-04-01T18:13:00.000+01:00

But not by boat - we decided to drive up to Market Harborough to do a bit of shopping and slumming in the estate agent windows, with a thought to purchasing a property in the district.

It certainly is an attractive town; bustling and looking well heeled. The old Jacobean market building which has also been a grammar school was originally constructed in 1618, and now the schoolroom has been converted to a function room for nefarious purposes. St Dionysius Church is also a splendid architectural feature in the town centre. Anyway, lovely pub lunch at the Three Swans, one of John Fothergills establishments that he has written about in his book Three inns. It was also known to Robert Aikman and LTC Rolt, since the arm was one of the earliest re-opening accomplishments of the IWA.

Since we intend to take Gleemaiden into these waters early this year, we thought that it might be an idea to visit the Foxton Locks. And so we did arriving mid-afternoon.

If BW are going to charge £2.00 for a parking ticket in their pay and display, that is fine, and probably good for revenue, but when the machine refused me a ticket and still took my £2.00 coin, I left a note in the windscreen rather that waste more money - it certainly did not give the coin back again.

Another £2.50 would have admitted us to the museum/shop half way up the flight between the inclined plane and the lock reservoirs. But we continued up the path to the lock keepers cottage the top lock. Why didn't we bring our BW key - there is a box there which dispenses free information brochures to passing boaters.

Anyway there was plenty of information about the lock keeper's house and the inclined plane (or boat lift as they put it) as well as about the locks themselves - we got some pictures, but they are not as good as those in the canal books and magazines. So, I don't suppose we really needed them. I have to say that the visitor facilities, plaques and look-out points do give a spectacular aspect to this famous piece of industrial archaeology; the view of the rolling countryside is also absolutely smashing.

Can't wait to take the boat up there. Have to get everything right though, it really is a gongoozler magnet!!

Over under and through in one day

2009-03-30T15:46:00.000+01:00

This was supposed to have been written yesterday, but by the end of it all I was so knackered I fell asleep after mooring up at Newbold. What a glorious day it was!

Forecast by the Met at Church Lawford to be sunny if a little bit chilly, we set off at 11:00 heading for Easenhall crossing bridge 38 and heading north according to OS map 222. Anyway, we missed the footpath to Easenhall and saw it on our port side as we passed on the bridleway. So a revision of the route had us passing through Harborough Magna and striking across the fields toward Cosford Hall Farm.

It was after we crossed a style making a turn to the south that we decided to stop in have a bit of a rest on the edge of a ploughed field. Very pleasant it was too, the sun was shining and birds chirruping in the hedge. But what were those chaps doing on the other side of the field? Were they farmers? Hmm. Then Audrone said:

'Here comes farmer Joe' and sure enough a quad bike was puttering toward us. When level he stopped and I said:

'Lovely day'
'Yes it is, but this is not a good place to sit and enjoy it given that this is a clay pigeon firing range.'
'Oh' said Audrone, 'I thought it was a public footpath'.
'It is, but you are sitting in the fall-out area and likely to be showered with spent pellets - but they have stopped shooting since you have been here, but would you please carry on with your walk so that the club members can carry on with their shooting?'

Of course we did! Then past the hedge to the next field was a warning sign saying that shooter would stop while walkers passed through - not knowing this, we passed ourselves off as sitting ducks.

Following the path along and veering off to the north, we walked over the Newbold Tunnel - the eastern entrance being clearly defined where the twin line of trees ends. Then finding ourselves on Rugby road, we retired to the Crown for a cider and got out the OS map for the route home.

The choice was the towpath, being the most direct and hopefully not muddy. Moored next to bridge 50 and washing his boat while taking on water was Andrew Denning with Granny Buttons who had quite a bit to say about the new BW water points - here is Andy Denning's site:

http://www.grannybuttons.com/granny_buttons/

Just before entering Newbold Tunnel (and not for the last time this day), the sound of a single cylinder diesel made itself heard popping along the cut under the bridge coming up behind us. 'I'll bet that is a Bolinder' said I in know-all fashion. And as the boat Pelican entered the tunnel, this was confirmed by the steerer, who told me that it was an eleven horsepower single. I must say, it sounded very distinctive in the echoing chamber of the tunnel and indeed accompanied us all the way back to bridge 38 where we left the towpath to get back to the marina.

Very sore feet after such a long walk, but no rest, for exercise builds the appetite and we were longing to try out the new barbecue (see blogs passim). This we did very successfully in the evening sunshine, even though it was chilly enough to warrant a scarf as well as a windproof jacket. Still it was very enjoyable and the barbecue worked perfectly sitting on the stern locker.

The day was not yet finished - still plenty of sunshine so we decided on the spur of the moment to take the boat for a run up to Newbold, tying up just as the sun was setting. Just the way to end the first day of summer time.

So we went over under and through the Newbold Tunnel all in one day!

A new gadget for the summer

2009-03-25T14:25:00.000Z

Last week Summer seemed to be just around the corner, so I started thinking of towpath barbecues and other summer delights when out cruising. However I also realised that the missing item for this sort of entertainment was the barbecue itself.

So thumbing through last year's Canal Boat magazines I found the review on different types that were considered suitable for boating - not all of them looked that good to me, however, last summer we had almost decided on one of them called improbably; Son of Hibachi Grilletto.

Having found a suitable supplier on the Internet (I want one of Those.com), placed the order and presto, the courier delivered it to our doorstop (I mean gate) today. Now having assembled all the bits, I would dearly love to try it out, but the instructions are very clear about it not being suitable for indoor use!!

The Iceman Cometh

2009-01-23T16:45:00.000Z

This is probably rather a strange way to start a blog which is devoted to life on a narrowboat, but the fact that it is supposed to be freezing again tonight, reminds me that time is running out for taking a trip to Tromso with the promise of viewing the northern lights and staying in the Ice Hotel.

The latter will no doubt thaw shortly, given that the birds here are starting to get into their frisky spring antics. There are still some cabins available for a 14 day cruise according to a travel website. But this also means that we can make an early start to the cruising season in the Midlands here at any rate and save ourselves a few thousand pounds. . . hmmm, anyone for Stratford in February?

I have been strictly ordered not to discuss laundrette visits, shopping or cups of tea on this forum, so I will only bring up disgusting subjects like pump-outs and black water bilge cleanouts instead.

On the subject of shopping though, does anyone know where one can obtain a wine rack that coulld fit neatly under the gunwale next to the dinette table? Our present solution is a carry box provide by TESCO. Somebody also suggested that a built in one in the engine bay is a top idea for keeping your reds at room termperature.