A bit more about Banbury and Cropredy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.