Narrowboat Balmaha – River Great Ouse to Bedford.

Sunday 24th August 2008 - St.Ives, Cambridgeshire.
A cloudy day generously speckled with hot sunny bits and wall to wall boats on a pretty stretch of river between St. Ives and St.Neots.

It’s always a pleasure to see Ter and Claire and today they were joined by No.1 daughter. News and views passed back and forth until our jaws ached (not the ladies’ of course) and then they talked some more.

Sunny it might have been but the water was cold, so we were told by the lass on Norfolk Lass who, after trying everything else, dived in to retrieve something dropped into the water.

That’s the trouble with magnets they don’t work on plastic curtain rails.

Mon 25th
Quitting the moorings bright and early we back-tracked to the town quay for water but found it so chocker-block with boats that we couldn’t reach the water tap. Taking the advice of a retired admiral we back-tracked some more and called in at Jones Marina next to St. Ives lock.

We found them to be a friendly and helpful bunch, pulling boats off the moorings just so that we could get at the water tap. Now that’s more like it.
Back outside the marina we spun around and cruised back through St. Ives finding this unusual gem of a boat lying at the approaches to town.

We wondered why the EA moorings at Hemmingford Grey were empty while the GOBA moorings further on were full until, on tying up, we discovered that the overhanging footway is perfectly suited to stripping the paint from a narrowboat’s cabin sides.
When a space became available we moved up to the lovely grassy bank and with help from Mrs “Take Five” of Reading we fought a stiff offshore breeze and secured our place for the night on the GOBA moorings.

A walk through Hemmingford Grey and then its neighbour Hemmingford Abbots brought us to the Axe and Compass. It took very little persuasion to purchase refreshments and pose outside in the blazing sunshine at this photo opportunity.

What a pleasant place this is, a step back into the past. A table outside a house weighed down with runner beans, an honesty box for money, something totally unknown in the towns and cities and a bit like leaving your front door unlocked while you walk to the shops for a newspaper.

There must be a story behind this. We’re miles from hop country (good old Kent) but here we found hops growing up telegraph poles. If they had been lower or I had been taller a couple of flower heads would have found themselves in my pocket. Whether it’s true or not I couldn’t say but as children, after a day’s hop-picking, we put hops under the pillow because we were told we slept better. I also found it works if you ferment them and drink the brew.

Tues 26th
A breezy day but leave we must. A short distance up river we find a lovely spot on Houghton Island, sheltered by the trees, but we hardly saw the yellow disk in the skies. Black circles in the grass tell us this is a popular spot for picnics, barbeques and bonfires. It’s a pity about the burnt out fire remains, it must take weeks for the grass to recover again.

Wed 27th
The diary says “overcast” and we are resigned to a summer of grey skies but at least it’s warm.
Around the corner we spot Brampton Mill and aha, a familiar boat, No Problem.

No one around so we sneak in beside them and hammer the pegs in good and tight.

Two dogs pounding across the meadow precede Sue and Vic returning home. More jaw pounding and we’ve caught up with all the news. There are shops a short distance from here we’re told, but I don’t fall for it, I’m staying put, let the ladies go I say.

Relaxed and in good company the evening soon disappears. Thanks Sue and Vic for your hospitality, you are both very much appreciated and the mushrooms were delicious.

Thurs 28th
Ever onward ever upward we move along the Ouse to Gt. Barford and pitch up next to Autumn Dawn. They got the broken mooring pin while we got the ants' nests. The ants didn’t bother me when I bashed the pins into the ground but angry armies marching down the mooring lines didn’t appeal so I repelled boarders by dousing the ropes with ant powder. It seemed to have had the desired effect.

Not a bad day for sunshine so fiddled with the batteries and topped up with 6 litres of distilled water. Does that sound a lot? Are the batteries being cooked I wonder?

Saw another strange sight today, a boat with a grass roof. Wooden lawn edging held the earth away from the handrails along the narrowboat’s roof and the grass quality was up to bowling green standard. Well done whoever you are, warm in winter cool in summer eh?

Fri 29th
And finally the last stage of our journey to Bedford’s Priory Marina. Canoeists at Cardington Lock kept me amused.

The lad asleep on the right says everything. And I thought I was tired.

Tired I may have been, but as the sun flew out and the evening flew in I was “persuaded” to take a walk out of the marina and around the boating lake next door. What seemed like hours later but could have been less than one we were back home and tucked up warm inside.

I didn’t know they did things “on-the-fly” but bats left their calling cards all over the boat during the night. Tiny black torpedoes littered the boat’s roof and on closer examination I could see the skeletal bodies and legs of insects in their do-dos. Fascinating.

Saturday 30th
Up early and just as well, our visitors arrived before 8.30am. Bearing gifts of home grown veggies Roger and Babs (off nb.Megan) were up for a boat-fix. Megan is effectively in dock, perched on mud somewhere along the Basingstoke canal and being refitted in the galley department as seen in her Blog photographs.

Breakfast was brief because we’re off cruising. Roger took the wheel while I piloted and the ladies crewed (or is it crowed?). Back through Cardington we hit upon the GOBA grass bank moorings downstream of the aptly named Sewage Farm Bridge. Cor it didn’t half pong too. Out of sight and smell range we pulled over and broke out the barbeque. With only a friendly fisherman for company we spent the evening on grass while Roger and I chewed over electric propulsion, traction batteries, solar panels and improbable ideas for cheap electrical power.

Sunday 31st
Awoke to find ourselves enveloped in mist. While we took a leisurely approach to breakfast it started raining, wet but not heavy enough to annoy us. Roger was kind enough to take the steering which freed me for lock work so I joined V on the windy-windy pushy-beamy at Cardington Lock.

Back at Priory Marina the first of the rains passed over and a hush descended. At the very end of school hols I would have expected to see dad’s and their lads making the most of the weekend, fishing, boating or splashing about on the water but it was like a Cup Final day.

And so to the end of our little holiday, we waved Roger and Babs back onto the road south, battened down under an evening of thunderstorms and wondered what September would bring.

Monday 1st September 2008
Weather was just so full of promise this morning. Sun broke through big-time as we cut our electricity link on the visitor’s pontoon, filled with diesel and pootled off out of Priory Marina.
Turning right instead of left we wandered up to the outskirts of Bedford passing the Pyramid and finishing at the last lock before the town centre.

I pondered the thought that if the Milton Keynes to Bedford link ever happens then through that little hole everyone will come. Being one of the founder members of the Anti-Milton-Keynes-to-Bedford-Link-Society (AMKTBLS for short), I considered how best one could scuttle Balmaha at this lock to stop hoards of boats pouring onto the Fens and ruining its beauty.

But that is just a dream as is the Milton Keynes to Bedford link.

It’s true, there aren’t enough mooring places, there’s no rubbish disposal, very few water points and next to no do-do dumps. I used to think these were problems but now I believe that’s what is saving the southern Fens from over population and river bank ruin. Let it remain a difficult place to get to and it will retain its sparkling waters, lush green grassy banks and its perfectly unspoilt beauty.