T-Mobile’s internet signal is sporadic and we’ve only just managed to scrape into the lower regions of GPRS on a few occasions. Uploading pictures is out of the question and even text transfers take forever so we’ll be brief with news until things improve.

Monday 13th to Monday 20th April 2009

Monday
Mike has been fraternising with the locals including a very friendly RBOA rep Pete Taylor on The Time Machine (a widebeam boat not a Dr. Who Tardis). Having talked about another forty-something footer turning round to face the other way he reckoned that if he could turn Sarah-Kate in the gap between moored boats then he could do a run back through the lower lock and reach the services for water

Seizing the opportunity of a free ride on a lavender barge I joined Mike and Jo with one of our bulging boater’s briefcases. All went well, very well in fact because I found £1.10 on the ground and salvaged a piece of brass and two strips of planed oak from the skip.

Back at the moorings, feeling rather clever, I climbed onto S-K to retrieve the oak strips and lost my footing. Falling down into the well deck, catching my ribs on the roof edge as I fell, I dropped to my feet but toppled backwards over the side. As I fell backwards I grabbed the gunwale and stopped upside down, inches from the water. However, I was completely unable to do anything except hang on.
Muttering something like “Man almost overboard” I attracted Mike’s attention and requested a pull towards the shore before I disappeared into the murky waters between boat and bank.

As Mike tugged at my shoulders to pull me towards the bank he slipped and we both fell in a heap, my feet still resting on the boat. Now, instead of going head first I was ready to slip feet first into the water and under the boat. Somehow Jo, using her unbroken arm, got my feet onto dry land and seeing the funny side we broke into laughter.
That brought V from Balmaha, whereupon I stood to my feet just in time to get beaten up for taking risks yet again.

This might be the right time to open a ‘dunking’ chart to go alongside the ‘broken bones’ chart.

On Tuesday we escaped from Gt.Bedwyn.

Crofton Pumping Station, looking like a castle on the hill, was silent apart from the sounds of sawing wood and a gaggle of ‘blue shirts’ doing things in the lake of weeds next to the lock.

Bruce tunnel didn’t present us with a problem but it may have done for following boats because a widebeam skipper was waiting his chance to dash through without sending someone over the top to stop oncoming traffic. I just don’t understand the logic.

And so we arrived at Wootton Rivers. We moored in a quiet spot before the lock and walked to the village to savour its wares. What lovely wares we savoured too, Mike and Jo insisted on treating us to a sit down meal at the Royal Oak. Yummy. Big, big thank yoooos to Mike and Jo.

Wootton Rivers has a special meaning to V and me, it’s where we came for our first canal-fix in 2003, just after we shook hands on the mad idea of living on a narrowboat. We knew nothing about canals so we drove two hours from the coast to soak up what we could before returning to bricks and mortar and make our plans to sell up.

Nothing has changed since 2003, even the leaky gates are just as we last saw them.

Wednesday
On the way to Pewsey, when the phone signal briefly returned, I checked with our insurers who said we would be covered down to Bristol’s Floating Harbour.
We can go to Sharpness as well if we like, they said, providing we have a VHF, life jackets and two ‘experienced persons’ onboard. The VHF we can do something about but where are we going to get two experienced persons I asked V. Can’t go, she said, we’ll stay with Mike and Jo on the canals. We’ll have to return along the K&A, she said, as the colour returned to her face.

Thursday
With some discomfort I returned to the bed last night. Broken left rib is much improved but bruised right rib is giving me jip. If it wasn’t such a hassle making up the dinette and packing it away in the morning I might have stayed there another week. But I was getting spoilt with the space to stretch out and it isn’t right to let V get used to sleeping diagonally on our bed because she’ll only want to do that when I return for good.

While Mike took Jo to the hospital to have her arm set, V and me walked into Pewsey for a spot of shopping.
But first we called in for a coffee and an ear-wig in the community tea rooms. What a delightful place this is and the locals are so polite and friendly. I could have stayed here longer but we had groceries to get. That’s a word you don’t hear very often – groceries. Can’t remember when I last saw a grocer.

Mike and Jo returned later from Swindon with Jo looking quite plastered. With her left hand raised in a mock salute she looked quite fetching in red plaster of Paris. Apparently all was well and there had been no need to knock her out in order to break and reset her arm. An X-Ray next week might give them another chance to do that.

Feeling up to a move we quit Pewsey and wandered off into the countryside where the canal opens out like a lake.

Boats have become more in evidence now and many are short of a few bob when it comes to repairs and paintwork. Some owners can’t squeeze everything into one boat so they adopt another as an extra bedroom or workshop. Their roofs come in handy for keeping the odd bit of furniture, dinghy, broken plastic toys and tarpaulins.

Friday
We moved again, not far but just round the corner on an empty bit of canal bank.

We waited for a short narrowboat to pass towing a wide wooden boat with poly tunnel roof. Our gaze was caught by the steerer who promptly announced that this was the oldest wooden steam boat still afloat. At least that was what I thought he said and I have no reason to doubt him.

The plan is to be near a road for the weekend so that we can meet up with Claire and Ter who will call in on their way home from MiL’s. It’s all very well deciding these things but we’re closing in on the big cities now and increasingly meeting floating residents in their various forms, noticeably those that cluster at bridges with roads or services.

BW have posted 48 hour signs but they may as well have posted 48 year signs for all the good it does.

Saturday
We’re moving again and have four or five possible moorings for a road bridge before hitting town. They come and they go, each one of them full until we find two spaces within a hundred yards of each other at All Cannings. We’re talking late morning arrival but no one’s giving up their moorings. Oh well, at least we’re on the bank and the vegetation can be hacked if we need to get to the bank.
T-Mobile is pretty hopeless again so all big emails are left on the server and the Blog will be text only. How did we manage with data transfers on the first telephone dial-up systems eh?

People are talking, walking and shopping so I’m keeping my head down. This is perfect weather for a spot of scrape and paint and there’s loads to do inside as well so I have a legit’ excuse for staying home.

Sunday and Monday is more of the same except we can stand-down from duties when T & C arrive. A pile of mail arrives along with two faces that we haven’t seen for weeks. Lovely to catch up and exchange news and views.
Mike and Jo left us on Sunday for a Devizes recce and came back Monday with stories of museums, moorings and a really helpful lock keeper at the Caen Hill flight. I’m really looking forward to the adventure later this week when we’ll strap the boats together for most of the journey down.

Making Progress.
Jo’s getting on very well with her arm in plaster but I sense she’s a bit frustrated at not being allowed to carry her ‘windy’ or jump all over the lock gates. My rib is almost fixed and the bruising has all but gone so it’s back to the proper bed every night for me.

The solar panel is doing quite well with 5 amps out of a possible 9 by 10 o’clock on sunny mornings. If this keeps up we will reduce our battery charging costs by a quarter between now and October.

Devizes and Bath are looking distinct possibilities for this trip and I can almost smell the sea west of Bristol. Like Wootton Rivers was last week there will be a home coming for us when we hit Bristol. I can’t wait to see how Bristol has coped after the blitz and V is looking forward to seeing the SS. Great Britain for the first time since she saw her launched.