Narrowboat Journal

Monday 16th to Sunday 22nd November 2009

Apart from the odd shopping trip and a water top-up we’ve done practically nothing this week and one doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.

But where did the week go? Seems you can be just as busy stuck on the canal side as you can cruising.

There were plenty of outdoor things on the list but the weather stopped most of them, nothing taking longer than five minutes was even attempted.

Keith and Jo on Hadar joined us from Union Wharf which was nice and we caught up on Keith’s health developments and talked about boats, as you do, over coffee. Their arrival is also handy for coal deliveries and so we’re running a fire whether we need one or not. Just watch the weather turn cold as the coal runs out.

Talking of which, hasn’t it been funny old weather this week, just like a baby - warm, wet and windy. This has kicked off my new hobby – watching the barometer. It’s been up, up, down, down, up, down, up and that’s just today.

The wind knocked all the seed out of the bird feeder so I took it down again. Just for a change I threw bread scraps under the hedge instead of in the canal, partly because there are no ducks and partly because a tame robin sits on the branch with a pleading look in his eye.

But now that the local dogs have sniffed the secret it’s a full time job keeping the animals happy.
I’ve noticed that some owners are fitting collars and leads in order to get their dogs to pass the boat. The alternative is to stand at the corner shouting for them to hurry up.

V’s gone down her Mum’s with Claire for a day while I’ve slobbed out, eating anything I can find in the fridge and reading electronics magazines left by G8LUV the other day. This means no walkies for me, no exercise and, what’s worse, no photographs, not one.

So, sorry folks, I’ll just have to try better next week.

Tuesday 10th to Sunday 15th November 2009

We start the week at one of our favourite spots on the Harbro’ Arm, just out of range of the bone factory between a row of trees and open fields sloping down to the A6. When the wind is in the right direction this is as peaceful as it gets. We get our share of walkers, some in a hurry and some that love to chat like the fella who wanted to talk about our way of life and his sorrow at not having a boat. People like that remind me that we are very privileged.
Of course, the topic changes when it’s pouring down or we’re deep in snow, but today the sun is doing its best to disperse the mist and the birds are singing and the colours of autumn are amazing.

Wednesday
The solar panel is doing nothing these days (as little as 1 or 2 amp-hours a day) and the batteries call for 4 to 5 hours of engine running each day. We might as well move while the engine is running so we upped-sticks and pottered on down to Market Harborough, to the visitor’s moorings at Union Wharf.

I keep thinking how nice it would be to find a silent running generator that uses gas, runs for a month on a cylinder and is small enough to fit in the engine compartment.

Dreaming done I dived below the deck and changed the oil and filters while V popped down the shops. We’ve clocked up 5600 engine hours in under 4 years, perhaps half the life of this engine if oil change intervals correspond to 6,000 miles on a car.

There were lots of familiar faces in the wharf but a couple of boats are missing, one owner is rumoured to have gone to Spain, permanently. Half the hireboats were missing too though no mystery there, they’ve gone for repainting.

Thursday brought us sunshine in the form of Mike and Jo from Sarah-Kate. Though we haven’t seen them for months we’ve followed their travels on the other side of the country and imagined ourselves cruising with them into Liverpool docks. Memory sticks and TVs are marvellous things and after sharing news and experiences we sat glued to the screen in a guided tour of the old docks, regenerated warehouses and, best for me, ships of every kind.

Though the summer wasn’t too hot and sunny this year we can’t complain about too much rain up until now. The downside is that the reservoirs are still low on water and our winter cruising could be affected.
There is a rumour that the Foxton Locks closure will starve the canal of water between here and Leicester and our pre Christmas cruising plans will be scuppered. That’s unless the gales predicted this weekend work wonders on Saddington reservoir.

Friday
Our 48 hours are up so we’re on the move again. While V did the shops I did the necessary at the services and cruised to bridge 14 where we met again.

Later on Claire and Ter popped in for a meal and a mail drop, leaving early evening just before the rain fell.

Saturday
What a night it was, thought we were going to lose everything from the roof. I’ve two sets of legs for folding chairs up there (don’t ask, it’s a project) and wouldn’t have been too happy if those had gone over the side.

Sunday
Fishing match day. There are voices on the towpath before 8.30am and sure enough there are anglers taking up position with their armchairs, drinks dispensers and tubs of coloured nibbles.

Sun’s out and so will be the paint brushes. We use the BrushMate system of keeping used paint brushes fresh and ready for action. There’s been quite a bit written about it recently what with Herbie, then Granny Buttons and now Bones talking about the usefulness of BrushMate boxes with vapour pads for keeping paint soft. Best thing since sliced bread I reckon. I only wish there were Brushmate reps on the cut, they do seem to be few and far between.

We’ll probably stay here a couple of days, me tickling the paintwork, V listening to her library ‘talking’ book.

Only trouble is that while we’re sitting here someone else is picking up all the fallen wood from Friday night’s gales. We’ve seen a few wood burning boats on the Harbro’ Arm, I just hope they leave some for us.

On a completely different subject we were horrified to hear about Sue and Vic’s dog Meg cutting herself badly this week. Hope she mends quickly. And talking of mending, we’re keeping an eye on a boat build at Kevin’s, looking especially for gimmicks and fancy new ideas for me to copy. There’s a challenge for you Kevin.

Monday 2nd to Monday 9th November 2009

The diary says we’re due in Foxton at the weekend so we started out from Wistow on Monday, straight after the early morning showers.

Heading for Kibworth we parted a thick carpet of newly fallen leaves. It’s a bit of a pain when they get wrapped round the prop but at least it isn’t floating pennywort.
Progress wasn’t made any easier by low water levels and the familiar clickety-clunk warned us that we were picking up debris from the canal bed.

We passed the occasional boat with a smoking chimney telling us someone was at home, but otherwise we had the place to ourselves. What was left of the leaves on the trees looked lovely, so I am told, in their yellows, red and browns though I much prefer the fresh greens of spring, but what do I know.

Fleckney gave us empty moorings, hedge to hedge sunshine and a couple of days to put our feet up. V gave me the nod so I gathered a few wires and scrambled up on deck to do my Marconi bit.
65 feet of wire 30 feet up got me through to Graham’s cousin Malcolm in Shropshire (5&8 on 10 watts). I know propagation conditions are good but this is a first for me and prompted me to start making my own Z match aerial tuner.
The second experiment with a 30 foot whip was a disaster on 80 meters so I’m now looking for a piece of 2” diameter drain pipe to make a base loading coil. V hates this sort of thing because it means that while I stop and check every builder’s skip along the way, she has to stand guard and cough if anyone comes along.

Tuesday
Strange things happened this morning between 8.30 and 9am. Canal water charged off in the direction of Kibworth locks and in minutes our home was on the mud. We waited and waited for a boat to appear but when nothing came under the bridge we guessed someone was fixing the low water problem between Kibworth and Wistow. It didn’t last long, an hour or so later we were afloat and the cupboard doors stayed shut again.

Rain stopped me playing outdoors so I set to with the screwdriver and pulled the covers off the bedroom finrads. How did all that fluff get in there?

Got carried away with the sander and discovered just how thin the top layer is on ash veneered plywood. Unfortunately re-varnishing only made it look worse.

Wednesday
Someone decided I wasn’t getting enough fresh air so the coat and shoes came out for an airing. Fleckney with its few but very useful shops and post office is only ten minutes away so I made it there and back without whinging. Didn’t see a single builder’s skip so I’m still in the market for drain pipe.

I don’t know why, but our MSC water gauge needs adjusting every few months. Maybe it’s a temperature thing because it corresponds with the onset of summer and winter. Trouble is it means emptying a packed cupboard where I keep all my secrets and I find the whole thing such a distraction that what could be done in ten minutes takes a complete afternoon.

Thursday
It’s time to leave because I’m in danger of liking it here, my feet are growing roots.
After testing the tunnel light we set off through Saddington to Foxton via Debdale. Don’t know why I said via Debdale, there’s no choice in the matter is there. Not that I’ve got anything against Debdale you’ll understand.

Seeing Foxton was like seeing an old mate again, nothing has changed, the same buildings, the same old faces.
Popped into the shop and bought engine oil and filters from Foxton Boat Services (Beta agents) but surprised how much the filters have jumped in price.
We’ve done 5600 engine hours in under four years and I’ve given up counting the oil changes, we’re still on the original set of fanbelts though.

Moored halfway between the boat basin and the village where it used to be a 14 day limit but is now 48 hours. The canals are going the same way as town and city parking – ever increasing restrictions. Me-thinks there’s a move to tighten things even further because photographs were being taken around Blackhorse Bridge, official looking people who checked the boats and then the cars in the layby. And it doesn’t look like holiday snaps to me.

Friday
Caught the bus to Harbro’ this morning for supplies, it’s still one pound each way if you buy a return, free for me of course.
Back at Foxton we found Keith and Jo on Hadar, fresh up from Harbro’.

Tea and coffee flowed while we got to the bottom of Keith’s recent health problems.
We marvelled at how calm they were after all the poking and prodding and still not having answers. Here’s hoping everything gets sorted quickly so that Keith can put hospitals behind him.

Saturday
At Blackhorse Bridge we found Kass, number one daughter and her fella Joe. While they popped over to Mary’s to see the twins we counted the Jo(e)s we knew. There’s Jo and Keith, Jo and Mike, Jo and Alan (x2), at least five of them. The evening found me all confused as the topics of conversation switched between family, weddings and Joe (or Jo), you know how girls are, mind reading half the time and changing the subject without announcing it.

Sunday was a practical day, so I could take part too.

With Joe steering we cruised down to Great Bowden and back, taking in the pleasures of autumn countryside colours and the glue factory fragrances.

Joe was particularly unimpressed by the glue factory and gladly accepted the offer of a gas mask for our return journey through the pongs.

It was dark before our visitors left and almost light again before our buzzing minds slowed enough to let us sleep. It was good to see them so happy together, with so much in common and most of their lives still in front of them. The next visit will include Maisy, the other princess. That should be ‘fun’. I can guess who’ll have to do the after-dark walks along the boat roof, runs down the towpath and leaping up trees in the pitch black, freezing nights around Christmas time.

Monday
Knowing coal-boat Hadar was leaving the area, on her way to Welford, we set off in pursuit for a couple of purchases.
Two bags of coal should do us for now and we’re trying Jo’s ‘blue’ to see if it does the job. I’ve tried several ‘blues’ over the years but always come back to Elsan’s thick, dark blue fluid, it gets no complaints from either of us, but it would be nice to get away from its spiralling price.

Goodies stowed we said our goodbyes to Keith and Jo and while we made use of the services at the end of the inclined plane arm, Keith and Jo chugged through the basin and into the first lock on their way up the flight to the summit.

While they’re servicing customers down south we’ll amuse ourselves somewhere between Harbro’ and Leicester.

For now, we’re happy out in the countryside east of Foxton, miles from the crowds, with the birdfeeder hanging on a nail attracting the finches, blue tits and a little grey mouse that darts between the twigs at the base of the tree.

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.