Narrowboat Journal

Tuesday 27th October to Sunday 1st November 2009

Last week we called in at Raynsway Marina and left our floating home in safe hands while we motored down to our David’s place in Bournemouth for Matt and Hannah’s wedding.

I have to say it was a brilliant wedding, not at all your standard stuff, very different to the low-budget job I was at thirty-something years ago. We never had chocolate fountains and Frank Sinatra at our reception. Come to think of it we had to wait weeks before we could see the photographs and I don’t remember anyone capturing the moment with a movie camera.

After the service, during the photographs, we discovered many old friends from our Bomo days and played the game of linking strange looking twenty-year-olds to their parents who, in the main, had hardly changed since we moved away.

And here we are modelling the latest going ashore wear.

But as often happens the time raced by and my check list of people and places to see was hardly touched when it was time to leave. Overnighting in Bristol, we picked up MiL and brought her back to the boat so that she could visit her first great grandchildren, twins Evie and George.

On that subject I just want to say that I don’t ever want to hear another complaint about me taking too many photos of the same thing. In one week I’ve seen the twins with aunty, twins with uncle, twins with grandparents, twins with great-grandmother, twins with uncle Tom Cobbly and all.

Back at Raynsway, on Tuesday, we pulled the plug on the shore line (with many tears) and saying our farewells to Manager Dave and Dil we slipped away onto the river in the direction of Leicester.

I don’t know whether the bridge repairs at Birstall Lock have deterred boaters from going through Leicester but the rubbish on the water was the worst I’ve ever seen. What would normally pass through the lock during normal boat activity has built up and looks quite daunting when making an exit on the upstream side. Proper prop stopping stuff. Try saying that quickly.

The water levels in town were quite low after many weeks without rain so we crawled along so as not to disturb the domestic refuse beneath us.
While some rivers have a carpet of weed, Leicester just has a carpet (or two or three). We saw coconuts galore, outnumbering footballs this time and wondered if this was connected to an outbreak of flu. Or perhaps coconuts are cheaper than footballs this year.

North Lock, next to Frog Island, is one of those places worth a visit to see unusual jetsam. I once pulled out a pack of prepaid phone cards and spent a happy hour sifting through them looking for unspent ones, though where I’d use them I haven’t a clue. This time it was a sleeping pigeon. I lifted him gently from the water but couldn’t wake him. He wouldn’t have thanked me anyway, once he’d seen the state of his feathers.

Saying a few words I committed him to the earth behind the stinging nettles and placed his leg rings in a jar of weak bleach to deal with later.
What do you want those for, asked V. I must report it to the RPRA, said I, and did my best to fill out the form on the Royal Pigeon Racing Association’s website.
RPRA were kind enough to thank me and pass the details to the owner who lives in Leeds. I had to explain to V that racing pigeon owners like to know which birds go astray so that they can wring the necks of any in the persistent offender’s breeding line. Sounds awful doesn’t it. I don’t know who told me that but someone did.

The following day we stopped to talk to BW, or their contractors, cutting stray branches at Ervin’s Lock and I was shocked to hear they were ordered to destroy all cuttings, yes even trunks and branches, because there was a risk that they would end up in the canal and do damage to locks. What a shame and what a waste.

Changing the subject, the prettiest garden through Leicester has to be this one in South Wigston. Year on year it never changes, summer or winter someone keeps it immaculate.

At Kilby Bridge we saw a few familiar faces, some of the nicest blue shirts can be seen here early in the mornings. Looks like a work party is preparing for lock repairs somewhere in the west, Dunn’s lock to Gee’s lock stoppage perhaps?

The buses through Kilby Bridge have changed since we’ve been away. The X4 to Leicester is now the 49B and its route includes bits of Wigston Meadows. V pointed out that it was a good job I didn’t go to town as first planned because I’d either still be there or hopelessly lost on the 49 or 49A.

MiL made her escape after doing the twins-in-arms bit. Claire and Ter did the running around (they’re wonderful people) and we were back on the road the same day, on our own with the water lapping at our feet and the wind in our faces. It felt strange sleeping in our bed that first night. I’d got used to sitting up without dodging the overhead wood panelling and within hours I’d cracked my nut a couple of times whilst turning over.

Wistow is our home for the weekend. Storms are forecast for Sunday but Saturday was perfect for experimenting with electronics and home made aerial matching units. Graham (G8LUV) loaned me two bits of kit to try out and once the boat jobs were done I was allowed to play with the wireless. These were no doubt the most successful transmissions from the boat so far, though I guess atmospheric conditions played a large part in that. Now all that remains is to find a way of operating inside the boat because V remarked that I was attracting strange looks from people walking by.

Sunday is a stay indoors day. It’s blowing a gale outside. Leaves, like birds, are going horizontal past our portholes. V was talking about walking to the garden centre but after this morning’s rain I think we should give that a miss. Unlike yesterday we’ve not had one boat go past us, not so much as a single hire boat.

Short term plans are to meet up with our daughter and her intended and get to see poor old Keith and Jo on Hadar, on the Harbro’ Arm.
There’ll also be a planning meeting where we’ll decide what canals and rivers will have the pleasure of our company next year. I’m all for popping across to France on a calm day but I think someone might veto that one.
I have to say it’s brilliant being back on the water after messing about in cars and houses, even after leaving on the lights and flushing the loos every two minutes without the worry of having to empty them.

Monday 19th to Monday 26th October 2009

Sorry, sorry, sorry there’s no Blog this week.

Access to the internet has been terrible on T-Mobile so there’s no chance of posting pictures and besides, we’re going south for a few days to Hannah and Matthew’s wedding.

I guess it sounds like excuses and so it is.

Normal service will be restored shortly.

Monday 12th to Sunday 18th October 2009

After a brilliant weekend at Trent Lock - even Sunday turned out nice - we returned to our cruising plan and under blue skies, without a trace of breeze, we said goodbye to the River Trent and hello to the River Soar.
We nattered to a Canaltime hirer while we took on water and I laughed when he mentioned his reluctance to go down the river from Sawley because the maps didn’t show anywhere to turn the boat. The same thing happened to us in the summer when we couldn’t see where to turn a sixty footer on the Aire & Calder. Of course it all became clear when we got there, the navigation is so wide that winding points aren’t worth mentioning.

The cruise to Loughborough, with a stop-over at Zouch, went without incident and the boat basin was welcoming with plenty of spaces. Best O’ Mates was there as we pulled in, just off up the road like ourselves for a spot of shopping.

The night was spent at bridge 34 which seems to be gathering popularity as a stop-over between towns. Sunny days and clear skies at night produce blue-grey mornings with mist off the fields swirling across the water.

Pillings flood lock was open again after last week’s heavy rain but we were reminded that with the winter approaching normal lock operations would soon come into effect.
The uphill side of Old Junction Lock looked too attractive to miss so we pitched on the rings and spread out across the towpath with table and chairs making the most of the sunshine.

Thinking it was warm enough for paint to dry I sanded and varnished the utility room floor. Leaving the windows open to get the air to circulate I walked off looking for a distraction and hearing the click-click of lock paddle gear I poked my nose out to see who was coming our way.

It was Dave and Dil on Trundle with her fresh coat of bitumen (Trundle’s not Dil’s).
Well one thing led to another, chatting made the throat dry, wine fixed that and before we knew it the afternoon was gone. Aren’t boaters lovely.

The weather on Thursday was a complete contrast with wall-to-wall drizzle and to make matters worse the computer’s mouse died. Nothing for it but to get on with boat jobs or, at the very least, make lists of boat jobs and decide who will do them another day.

The weekend was a bit special with visitors from the south. Roger and Babs came up to see us and while the weather behaved itself we pottered about on the Soar.

Someone mentioned walking and I could see the subject wouldn’t go away by ignoring it so I joined the party on a tramp along fields, woods and country roads in a sweep around Cossington.

We chanced across the Royal Oak about mid way which was most welcome for resting the legs and reviving the spirits.

I have to say that having another boater like Roger to chew over ideas with is so, so useful. Problems shared are problems halved most of the time and a fresh mind on a troublesome subject often produces simpler solutions

Taking of fresh, we’ve a fresh topic of discussion these days – Signal Crayfish.
We’d just tied up one afternoon this week when V pointed at something in the water next to the boat.
Being curious I lifted this thing out and discovered a freshwater crayfish of the imported Signal variety. Well that’s what the fella on the bike said.

He had just the one claw (not the biker) but seemed very keen get me with it so I thought it better if he return to the water before losing a finger.

Aha, said the local guy, these are nasty imported crayfish, vermin, not nice to English crayfish and not nice to anything small enough to go in their mouths. Fish numbers are in decline, he said, because they eat the eggs. Nothing survives once these critters get a hold, so he said.
But then he dropped a bombshell, he said we must on no account put them back in the river, it’s against the law.
Oh dear said I and proceeded to get him back out again. But the next one had two claws. Anxious not to make things any worse I asked him what we should do with it. Eat it he said. 5 minutes in boiling water, then eat it and another twenty of his friends, with salad.

My first investigation into the matter of catching and disposing of ‘Signals’ has opened a real can of worms. It seems you can’t do anything right with them, they mustn’t be caught and if accidentally caught they mustn’t be released.

I can’t release him and I can’t be sure what I should do with him. I would put a collar and lead on him but he hasn’t got a neck. He’ll want to play in the water won’t he, does he eat the same things as us I wonder. Where will he sleep at night? We shall have to keep and eye on him at night too, don’t want him getting lonely but V’s tooth glass is already cramped without him going in there.
Where do we stand on the subject of signal crayfish, should we catch his brothers and supplement our meagre diet with fresh fish? Or are we stuck with him, doomed to be followed by the little fella for the rest of his days. Do they make good pets I wonder.

One thing I do know is that he’s vicious, go anywhere near him and both claws go up in the air. He’s not afraid of humans, that’s for sure.

Tuesday 6th to Sunday 11th October 2009

Had a surprise call this week from friends Dave and Margaret from Cornwall who were out for a couple of weeks on a hire boat in the West Midlands. Dave bumped into Bill and Michelle on a visit from N.Carolina and cruising on their boat nb.Shilling and our names came up in conversation.
We met blog readers Bill and Michelle in Braunston back in October last year and they remembered us. What a small world we live in.

This looks like being a quiet week. We’re hanging around Sileby Mill doing pre-winter boat jobs and getting that horrible tax return out of the way.

The mornings are developing a wintery look with the sun low on the horizon filtering its light through the mist. But within minutes the effect has gone as the sun rises above the hedge.

I’ve just bought one of those hot glue guns and wonder why I’ve never had one before, they’re brilliant. I wander up and down the boat looking for things that need sticking. But I discovered that this glue doesn’t like silicone, the roof vent surround fell off a day later. Now I’m wondering if it comes unstuck in water. It says on the box that you shouldn’t try to pull the glue off your skin, the skin comes off too. Whatever, I still think it’s brilliant.

Just across the river from us nb.Trundle, from Raynsway Marina, is having having her bottom blacked so we popped over for a cuppa and a natter with Dave and Dil. Glad we did because they helped solve the question of where to meet up with cousin Roger and Babs when they pop up for a weekend. That’s one downfall with rivers, there aren’t that many places to leave a car for a couple of nights.

Thursday
A rainstorm the other night brought fresh water down the Soar along with rafts of floating pennywort, the stuff that was treated in July. Someone must have switched fertiliser for weedkiller because there’s loads of the stuff, it looks like it had a good summer this year.

Once the dreaded weed had passed we set off downstream calling in at Loughborough for munchies and a post box for my Kent aunt’s ninetieth card.
Seeing as how they tell us we’re all living longer these days you’d think there would be a reasonable choice of cards on the rack. A choice of two, that’s all I had. I was going to send a funny one and write my own words but V reminded me that not everyone understood my stupid sense of humour. She’s a girl, I let her choose.

Every time we came across a mooring place on the journey down the Soar we discussed its merits and passed it by, thinking we could just go that bit farther and save journey time the next day. We eventually finished up at Redhill tired out and ready to drop, unfit or what?
The power station’s fumes were blowing t’other way and we hardly heard a sound from the works so decided this was another spot we could add to our list of acceptable moorings.

Friday’s cruising lasted all of ten minutes because we were a stone’s throw from our destination Trent Lock and the pontoon outside the Navigation pub.

Nb. Best o’ Mates joined us for a couple of hours before motoring back up the Soar. He corrected my belief that there was cheap diesel on the Erewash because he’s from these parts so the next time I see that red and yellow boat I’ll give its skipper a piece of my mind. 46p a litre, huh.
Thought we might bump into Mark from nb.Lorimar as he works nearby but it wasn’t to be. We’ll catch up with you another time Mark.

Saturday was good for meeting relatives. A new aunt this time, one I only discovered a couple of years ago. She runs a hardware and sweet shop in a small town in Derbyshire so there was no time to lose in finding her. Cousin Sue brought her down to the boat and I’m afraid our first conversation must have sounded more like an interrogation as I tried to fill in the gaps in my knowledge of the ancestors. They left us with black and white photos, cake and a Draper tools catalogue, one couldn’t ask for more. I think a 72 piece drill set might be in order before too long.

Sunday is gun practise day. Somewhere across the fields they’re blasting away at something or other but from within the boat it sounds just like a tennis match between beginners. A couple of volleys and then quiet while they picked up the balls from the net.

Narrowboats compete with sailing dinghies for the water outside Trent Lock. Yesterday we saw raft races in the morning, followed by canoes and sailing dinghies of various shapes and sizes, accompanied by rescue boats that dashed here and there towing boats and crews back to safety. The raft races had us in stitches, the yells of excitement started before they’d even let go of the bank and within minutes one was up-ended spilling the crew into the water. Great fun too for those of us watching.

This morning around 9am we were greeted by the strains of ging-gang-gooly-gooly-watcha from a circle of uniforms and the raising of the red duster that signalled the start of sailing practise.

Boats coming down the Trent zigzagged as they tried to work out who was going to tack when and where. Most of us seem to be woefully ignorant of the rules of the road when approaching sailing boats and seeing how so many ran down the marker buoys in the centre channel some of us haven’t a clue why they are there or the dangers of snagging one with the propeller.

I suppose the weather will improve once the sailing is over, prayers for wind will change to prayers of sunshine for the journey home and we’ll see an end to this breeze and drizzle.

Something else to see the back of, is snoring. Not hers this time but mine. It’s starting to affect my quality pillow time because I’m getting jabbed in the back every five minutes. I don’t know what has started it, I’ve never been a snorer, it’s always been someone else’s problem. I now find I can’t nod-off in front of the TV, my snoring startles me.

Perhaps the dinette is a temporary solution but there has to be something that will fix the problem, anyone got any cures?

Monday 28th September to Monday 5th October 2009

The week (in brief).

Boat bottom blacking isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and whilst we happily did it ourselves two years ago I thought we’d give someone else the pleasure this year.
While Sileby Mill Boatyard did the dirty work we would be free to walk the countryside, sit and read the papers, watch TV and more or less please ourselves for the four days the boat is out of the water. But it wasn’t to be, there’s much to be done while she’s on land like repairing the stern band paintwork, repairing bow and stern fenders and messing about with the steelwork that sits under or near the waterline.

For me this week was business as usual while I tested painting skills and ‘prepared’ for our first Boat Safety Examination.

This is our first ever visit to Sileby Mill Boatyard and our choice for bottom blacking turned out to be a good one.

The staff were friendly, efficient and they accommodated all our needs. While Dave did the dirty work I pottered about doing my bits, tidying up the gloss paint and pulling away four years of accumulated clutter from near the copper pipes between gas locker and cooker.

My experiment two years ago where I brushed on extra thick layers of Intertuf produced no noticeable differences to the rest of the hull below the waterline.

Out of the water she looked to be in good shape with hardly any rust spots showing but once Dave had done his work with the jetwash several million rust patches the size of new penny pieces came to light and it looked the same as it did after I’d blasted it two years ago.

Since International’s Intertuf is fetching a price in the high 30s we’ve switched to Rylard’s bitumen at £24 a tin and Dave rolled rather than brushed two coats with a third coat at the waterline.
We’ll see what that looks like in two years time.

Now that the bitumen is on and dried I have to say it’s a pity the best part of the boat can’t be appreciated because it’s under water.

Gas safety examination was done by Chris Williams of Ovation Boat Services who lives aboard a couple of boats at Sileby. I shall try to use him again in another four years because he completely relaxed me with his friendliness and boat chat, so much so that I almost forgot to ask him if we’d passed. V didn’t want to be around so she went exploring but you really wouldn’t know an examination was happening, he almost does it without you noticing. He travels a fair distance for installation, repair and BSS exams and to cover the Midlands he bases his work at Braunston as well as up here.

Apart from the paintwork and gas safety there were plenty of distractions as Dave and Dil from nb.Trundle at Raysway Marina called in at the yard to prepare for their blacking on Monday and Keith and Jo from nb.Hadar called in on their way south to the Foxton to Mkt Harbro boat procession on the 10th October. You do meet some super people on the canals don’t you.

What I thought was a candle making business next to Sileby’s mill has turned out to be a workshop making candlesticks, clocks and unusual household objects from iron.

If you’re stuck for a Christmas present this year then how about iron foxgloves or an unusual log basket for the fire or a clock made from a steel RSJ. I think I can safely say you won’t find these things in the shops, they must be unique to Sileby Mill Candlestick factory.

I found the workshops fascinating with presses, lathes and stamping machines banging away below the exhibits on the floor above. The shop upstairs is worth a visit if you’re passing through and while you’re there take a look at the sign on the boatyard gate.

Blacking and boat safety done (passed first time) we were trailered back into the water on Friday.

Saturday was crew change day with V going to her Mums and Mike (ex Hyperion) joining for a weekend cruise. There was food in the fridge and instructions on how to get it out and onto the plate. Mike brought bottles galore and a whopping great cake (thanks Pat) so we had no excuse to be miserable.

Our cruise down river to Zouch and back went like a dream with neither of us falling in, though someone did lose his hat in the high winds.

The food turned out alright, the bottles disappeared at an alarming rate and I have to say I found Mike’s company very agreeable, this last couple of days being a bit like a holiday for me.

V’s back at any moment and I’m running late so while the floor varnish is drying, the washing machine spinning and newly acquired music belting out I’ll upload this drivel before I run out of time.

Normal service will be resumed next posting, my editor will be back to correct mistakes (facts, dates and spelling), and I shall be rid of this silly smile that the mouse gets when the cat is away.