Narrowboat Balmaha – Bath to Wootton Rivers

Monday 25th to Sunday 31st May 2009.

Monday has slipped my mind, apart from blog prep and uploading, so we’ll start with Tuesday.
The weather is noticeably warmer and there are signs of temperatures settling down to a gradual rise instead of the customary ups and downs that call for the occasional fire at night. We’re down to the remains of our last bag of coal but there are a couple of logs on the roof if I can be bothered to get them down and hit them with the axe.

The chimney cleaning that was done several weeks ago is all undone and you wouldn’t know we had brass bands on the sticky-up bit on the roof. I knew it at the time but felt obliged to scrape off the winter’s corrosion, now it all needs doing again. I can see why some people chuck the thing away after three years and buy new.

Today‘s a moving day and we’re off to Bradford on Avon. This is our final cruise of the K&A as we say goodbye to the West Country and hello again to the River Thames and a return to the north. It will be good to see the edge of the glacier again as we head up country with the sun on our backs. All this greenery is getting too much for me, the wide open spaces of the Kennet & Avon have shrunk terribly as the trees on the offside reach over to the reeds of the towpath. They appear to be racing each other to see who can reach the middle of the navigation first.

It’s also goodbye to those little pockets of permies that line the towpaths, the ‘interesting’ wooden boats with plywood extensions, some draped in tarpaulins and stacked high with cane furniture, twisted tree branches and aluminium poles that once served to support TV aerials.

Here’s something you don’t see in town very often, a ferret out for a walk.

The oil change is overdue but rain put a stop to that so I busied myself with scanning photos while V wandered off to the shop.

Wednesday started early for Mike and Jo on Sarah-Kate because they had an early appointment at the hospital for physio’ on Jo’s mended arm. Their early return meant we could get going while the weather behaved itself. Hilperton Marina came in useful for boaty bits, though I felt miffed when I was told that the Rock mineral oil I’d bought was actually a synthetic oil. On our previous visit I’d been told it was an all singing all dancing mineral oil that fitted every category of viscosity.

But I was still smiling, not because of this purchase but because of the antics of a few lads living inside a nearby road bridge over the canal. Mike was first to pass underneath it and gesticulated to us that something was going on at the bridge. “Hello mate” said voices as we passed underneath, “how are you today?”
Up between the concrete beams were lads lying on the horizontal sections, peering down and greeting boaters who were completely unaware of them until they spoke. Asking them to show themselves they dropped their heads and laughed. I’m afraid I laughed too and couldn’t bring myself to tell them off. As a part of the entertainment they dropped their legs below the bridge and waggled them to make us laugh even more.

Further on it was our turn to entertain others. A family followed us between the locks and while we negotiated the chambers the mother gave the two boys a thorough explanation of the workings. Just as I was following Sarah-Kate into the next lock our prop snagged on rubbish and I lost control of the boat. Letting her drift I dived into the weedhatch and pulled on a tangle of carpet, rope and polythene to the accompaniment of mum’s commentary to her lads along with gasp and oooohhhs as bits came up through the hole in the stern. I think the prop job was more interesting to them than the locks and I can imagine bath time at home won’t be the same again with string and polythene wrapped around toy boat propellers.

It being half-term there were hoards of families walking or riding bikes beside the canal. The children of one family on a B&B cycling holiday were so fascinated by boats and locks that the father was heard to remark “I guess I know what sort of holiday we’ll be having next year”.

Thursday we arrived in Devizes and took the last two places on the 72s. We nearly had Paul and Christine again to help us through the Caen Hill flight but other commitments and our early start meant it wouldn’t have been worth the journey from home. But we thought of them and we were grateful for their offer.

There are some funny people about aren’t there. Some come for miles to stand next to the locks and all they do is watch. They don’t talk, they just watch and watch and watch. Mike and I did our bit to bring smiles to faces by playing loud music and miming on air guitars but it had limited appeal and we didn’t raise a penny when the hat was passed round. In his final bid to get a laugh Mike did his Botox impression next to one of the signs on the flight.

Why do frogs leave the side ponds and dive into the locks? Mike pointed out one heading for the propeller so I did my bit for nature and scooped him out before the water went red.

After 29 locks we were understandable tired and under an almost cloudless sky we flopped onto the towpath and ate out a-la-BBQ.

In the cool of the day we were joined by blog readers Tony and Pam. It was three against one that she was Pam and not Pat but apologies if we have that wrong. T&P are just a couple of weeks away from taking on a new narrowboat and were understandably excited about the details of boats and canals.
Remembering our first experiences I have to say I am jolly glad we took Balmaha off the builder’s hands in the middle of winter. We had the place to ourselves and no one to see our (my) worst steering blunders. We wish T&P a quiet few weeks to get the hang of it and many years of problem free cruising.

If you’re up there in the west Midlands look out for ‘Time will Tell’ and give them a wave.

Friday was hot. Everyone had things to do and it was my turn to crawl into the engine hole to swap oil and filter. Funny how you notice a dozen other jobs to do when you lift the stern boards and my half hour’s job turned into two before I was back on deck. It didn’t stop there because the paint brushes hit the dinks on the boat’s side and the chimney was consigned to a poly bag in the cratch. I got told off for working out in the sun without a hat and had my comeuppance at bedtime when my head started throbbing.

Grandmother’s words came to mind when she first learned I was joining the navy. Don’t forget to wear your pith helmet in the tropics, she said. You might think you look stupid but it will stop you getting sun stroke.

Saturday was an epic cruising day. The sun shone like mad but we didn’t stop for 7 hours, including a water and icecream stop.
Rounding a bend we saw the usual “Slow down for moored boats” sign but seeing no boats I only half complied with the request. A bit further on I saw the outline of boats and this time a different sign, one that made me laugh and put the engine into tick-over.

We reached Wootton Rivers by 4.30pm and found space on a short stretch of steel piling above the first two locks.
Having missed two sets of cygnets with the camera I managed to get half a picture of the Canada geese family before they fled to the security of the bushes.

So much has changed since we were here mid April, the reeds have gone wild, bushes and trees have sprouted branches and there’s just so little room for boats. Wide beam hire boats and trip boats mess things up when you want to get on, they completely fill some stretches of canal and how two of them manage to pass without lots of reversing I’ll never know. I’m glad we came down here early enough to appreciate an ‘empty’ canal.

Having said that there are some lovely bits to see when there’s no one coming the other way. Huge oak trees touch tops across the canal to compete with any cathedral for beauty and the bird music from the branches above more than match little boys singing in the choir stalls.

Talking of little boys, a call from number one son on his last birthday in his twenties revealed a holiday in progress down Cornwall way. Bet the sun is hot and the water freezing cold. Many years spent down there when the children were small taught us not to expect warm seas on the north coast until much later in the year.
Narrowboats don’t do the Bristol Channel or we’d be down there, wouldn’t we V?

Jo cooked a smashing skewered curry and rice that we ate outside under the trees after our cruise.
Mike’s a dab hand at birds so we made him name the sounds above us and for the first time in my life I think I can tell you what a willow warbler sounds like and identify a wren’s warning ‘click’. But for butterflies we turned to Jo for identification and I can describe a Painted Lady but still haven’t a clue what they sound like.

Sunday 31st May 2009.
It’s been declared a day off from cruising so I was looking forward to playing with transmitters and aerials. No joy with that so I turned to the Blog, and to follow that we might go looking for Elderflowers to make cordial. Mike’s doing one of his progresses. I liken it to QE1 on her travels around the country except Mike does it all on his own, no horse, no servants, no nothing, just him and nature. I guess he takes a map because he always finds his way back again. No, I've been told he does it all from memory, looks at map, puts map away and starts walking. Mike used to be a scout for the Brits when they invaded Africa centuries ago.
I’d do progresses too but the hayfever season has just started and there’s no horse that could carry my stack of handkerchiefs, eye drops, nose spray and tablets.

Apologies in advance for late posting, there’s no T-Mobile signal here and the prospects are poor for the next couple of days. But as soon as the little lights appear on the modem I shall upload the current drivel.