Another New Toy

On Wednesday a great  big cardboard parcel arrived, addressed to the Skipper. Of course as always, he wasn’t here, he’d gone away to visit his two friends John and Maggie in Banbury. But the office took it in for him and he collected it in the afternoon when he arrived home.

It was obviously heavy since he had a job to drag the package at all and in the end he unpacked it in the office bringing all the pieces outside bit by bit.

It’s his latest idea, his new big toy and I wonder just how long the craze will last…… 

Oh dear! Here we go again.

It’s a foldup dinghy, which he ordered about six weeks ago. You may know about it, as I think he mentioned it in the blog sometime back.

Anyway it’s here and I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to do with it. I expect it will all finish up as another dust collector in the end, just like his folding bike idea under the bed. But he is keen at the moment and Janis certainly is, which will make a difference I think.

He’s packed it all; boat and equipment, mast, sail and oars, into a long bag which came with the order and was especially made for the job. Having got everything outside the office, making sure all the bits had been sent, he packed it all into the bag and then tried to carry it with the two long central carrying handles over his shoulder.

This was impossible and though the boat was advertised as being carry-able by one man I think it meant not including all the extra sailing gear etc. It needs some kind of trolley to do everything, which he hasn’t got.

He managed to lift it a yard at a time, eventually getting it on the quay near my mooring. No way though can he get it on board on his own, as he’d hoped to.

But the bag has a carrying handle at each end as well, so two people – him and Janis, should be able to manage it perfectly alright together. He plans to stow it on board in my Saloon, beneath the gunnel on the starboard side, behind the easy chairs. He has measured the length and I must say, according to the measurements it does fit into that spot very snugly.

He plans to have an official launching ceremony next week, so you’ll have to watch this space.

Oh dear oh dear!

To Saltisford Arm and Back

 

Looking back to Bridge 49 and Kate Boats

 

In Cape Top Lock

 

‘The Cape of Good Hope’

 

Muddy tow path in spite of the Sun

Good Boy!

Well he is really, isn’t he?

He has been today anyway, bless him. He’s tried really hard.

Every day here at Kate Boats the Skipper sits down in his easy chair first thing in the morning, having switched on Radio 3 quietly, while he eats his toast and honey and drinks his coffee for breakfast. Sometimes afterwards his head begins to loll on his chest and his day gets delayed even further then. But always he’ll decide eventually that he needs to go for a walk or whatever. And then that’s me all on my own, all day for another day.

It’s been like that since the beginning of November and I’m fed up with it.

We got as far as the head lolling stage this morning and I thought; “Here we go again.”

But all of sudden he gets up and says “I think we’ll go for a little cruise today.” Just like that. He often talks to himself. He’s actually talking to me not thinking that I can hear and understand him. He thinks I’m just a piece of steel, inanimate-like, but we know different don’t we? I notice when he writes his blog too, he always says “We did this….” or “We did that…” and I know he’s including me in what he’s saying, which is rather sweet I think don’t you? It’s not the Royal ‘We’ or anything. He’s certainly not one of those.

“Yes! We’ll go for a cruise.” he repeats, all firm and definite-like and with that he puts on his shoes, his fleece and his old Blue Star Line cap and marches aft.

Then I know he means business.

During the cold weather, when he’s started the Russell Newbery, just to run it for a while, she has always been very sluggish to want to go and I’ve never given her any encouragement either. But today because she could see that I was eager to go, she started with no trouble at all, even though it had been a frosty night outside and today the thump of her pistons seemed even more excited than usual.

The Skipper let go, my screw began to turn, pushing me ahead and it was a delight to feel the movement of the water along my sides again. I think the Old Man felt exhilarated too judging by the happy smile on his face.

We were on the move, just gently, as we had plenty of time, at tick-over, dead slow ahead. Not only the joggers were passing us along the towpath; everybody was but it was beautiful. There was no breeze at all and the Sun after a while began to shine. It was a perfect day for cruising as I nudged my nose forward through the water.

The ducks were not upset as I pushed gently through them. So long as I didn’t nick their bread that was being thrown from the towpath they couldn’t care less. But a couple of big white farmyard geese were unhappy at my passing and honked at me bad temperedly with haughty bills held high until I was well past…. The miserable things!

Up through the two big Cape locks the Skipper manoeuvred me carefully only half opening one paddle at each one to ensure that I was not furiously thrown all over the place as the lock filled. Then all too soon for me we were at the Saltisford Arm, where a 57 foot boat like me can turn easily.

We did so with ease and headed back towards the top lock. But before we arrived there the Skipper moored me right opposite ‘The Cape of Good Hope’ pub where he had some lunch. I didn’t mind that delay. The sound of the water gurgling through the Top Lock as it leaked down was very relaxing. The Skipper deserved the break too.

In about an hour we were on our way again and very soon; too soon, we  were back at Kate Boats. We needed to turn round so I would be facing the same way alongside as I was before and by this time I had gained enough confidence in the Skipper, after his brilliant performance so far in the day, to think that he would have no trouble with this.

It just goes to show that I can’t relax at all with him around. I should have known better. He made a right pigs ear of it all.

I know exactly what he was thinking. With the wind, which had increased during the day quite a lot, and was blowing up the canal towards the mooring, he decided to reverse into the turning basin and let the wind blow the bow round, therefore facing in the direction we needed to go. Of course he misjudged the available depth in the basin and got my stern stuck midway through the manoeuvre. Couldn’t pole off from anywhere convenient but luckily for us the stern line was long enough to heave ashore and eventually he was able to get to it and, with a lot of effort, physically heave  my stern through the mud and clear.

I think he’ll stick my nose in first next time and heave my stern into the wind if necessary like any sensible person would have done. But my Skipper always thinks he knows better than anybody else. I do wish he would learn.

Still, It’s been a lovely day. I can’t really complain.

Spring and Smoked Salmon Benedict with Champagne

February is half over and 2013 marches on swiftly. The rain is beating down outside and its consistent patter on the roof is as comforting, because it is not allowed to get inside where my fire is keeping everything nice and warm, as it is mesmerising. If I was to relax in my easy chair, the gentle staccato rhythm combined with this feeling of security would soon have my  head falling forward on my chest. Such peace is here.

Though it has had its moments, this winter has not proved as severe as it has over recent years. Though  we have experienced a few days of snow and the canal actually froze, it was only very briefly here in Warwick. If one could predict accurately how the weather was going to behave over this season, one could safely use this idle winter time much more productively chugging along. As it is one is merely killing time tied up to a safe mooring until the beginning of March, when the official cruising season begins.

Here at Kate Boats however the bright and perky little Robin continues every day to sing his optimistic song, never daunted by whatever weather there is; he has such courage. while not far below him, bobbing their white heads in the cool breeze, the Snowdrops enthusiastically offer their applause. Everybody is sensing that the spring  is not too far away.

Not that I feel disappointed with these ‘time killing’ days. They give me the opportunity to carry out all the tasks that I never manage to do in the busy cruising days. All the little jobs that have accrued in the summer can be satisfactorily completed, while of course I get the opportunity to visit the family on the bus, with a ‘stop’ just outside the yard, and from the mainline railway station only a ten minute walk away.

Of the family my brother David is the one I visit the most, as he lives so close at Stratford-upon-Avon. On Friday I arranged to see him and travelled across by the local bus. I had been invited to coffee with him and his two friends Edmund and Patricia.

These three, all single, spend a lot of time together and though a few local people who spot them regularly might be tempted to think ‘The Last of the Summer Wine’, I consider them to be a very illustrious little group and am very honoured when they invite me occasionally as an associate member.

On Friday I met them in the Encore pub and with all the flashing wit and discourse, we managed to pass two easy and comfortable hours together. Then with a break for individual shopping and tasks, we met again at twelve thirty at ‘The Henley Street Tearooms’ for lunch.

It was a special occasion; they all are. So we four enjoyed a delicious Smoked Salmon Benedict with a flute of Champagne, complete with half a strawberry straddling the rim. It was magnificent and all went ‘dane loike a treat’, as they say contentedly in my part of the country, while another two hours was warmly passed in such excellent company.

Later I returned to the ship very happy with my day.

Shakespeare and a Fifth Birthday

Last weekend was a long one away from the ship.

On Thursday morning, with frozen snow making the footpaths still very treacherous, I set off by bus to Stratford-upon-Avon and met my brother and two of his good but separate friends Patricia and Edmund for coffee.

It was grand company and as always happens when retired people get together with time on their hands and good conversation to digest, the time flew by. Though all had proclaimed very early on that we had our own separate tasks to perform in the afternoon, surmising at that early stage that we had plenty of time in which to do it, when lunchtime arrived and we were still at the Encore Bistro with by now cold coffee cups in front of us, we found it very difficult even then to say farewell for the moment and go our own separate ways.

However eventually we did, and David and I had lunch together followed by a little shopping afterwards, but very soon the evening was with us and it was time to  set out for the RSC Theatre. It was the first night of their production of ‘The Winters Tale’. 

It was very popular and though there was one or two empty seats in the house, the audience like me was very enthusiastic.

I thought the production directed by Lucy Bailey was brilliant as well as being very artistic in the set and costumes. She managed to turn most successfully what I think is a very odd plot into something very acceptable but full of wit and colour as well as emotion. The production also made splendid full use of all the technical and impressive wizardry that the new theatre has to offer by way of props etc. As always by the end of this play I was so transported by the whole event that I was sorry when it had to end. I could have easily sat through it all again.

Having stayed the night with my brother, I returned to the ship late the following evening while the ice was still around. A very cold icy wind during the day had impeded any speedy thaw.

But the following day, Saturday, was much milder when I set off early for the railway station on my journey to Brighton. It was a long journey too, through the centre of London and to make matters more tedious, south of the city all kinds of engineering works were going on and I finally arrived at my destination at three o’clock.

 

The pier at Brighton

 

A traditional Brighton Cob

 

I had booked my rail ticket online, but on discovering that to travel on Sunday would have meant even more disruptions and as a result I would have missed most of my granddaughter Delilah-Rose’s fifth birthday celebrations, I decided to travel on Saturday and stay at a bed and breakfast for the night.

 

The Brighton Eye with pier in the background

 

Brighton Lanes

 

The bed and brek that I chose was optimistically called The Marine View Hotel and though it was close to the sea front it was not close enough unfortunately to be able to live up to its name. But the single bed was comfortable, I slept well and the following morning ate a hearty breakfast before walking up the hill to meet the family.

The party itself was wonderful and it took me back many years to when my own children were that same age. Lilah’s mother Millie had booked a local church hall for the afternoon and also an excellent children’s entertainer, who managed to keep the twenty five five-year-olds’ attention for an hour if not exactly quiet.

 

Grandson George having fun

 

Candle blowing ceremony

They all enjoyed his blend of story-telling, comedy and magic (with the right amount of audience participation of course), with little eyes wide and mouths open in awe, mostly with sound emanating forth. They loved the man with his gaily coloured props and live rabbit that everybody had a chance to stroke at the end.

 

The present opening ceremony

 

The tea party was a much more serious affair with food to be eaten and parents fussing about making certain that their little precious one in particular had enough to eat. It all went so well with Lilah managing to blow all her five cake candles out almost with one blow, while everybody else traditionally sang ‘Happy Birthday’, mostly with the correct words, though one or two of the older boys were ever so clever in using the rude ones!

Lilah’s daddy, my son Rupert was there, as also was E-J my daughter, who with husband Steve and son George, had travelled down by car from High Wycombe for the day. It was lovely to see them briefly again too.

Eventually everybody went home and, in the end, Delilah-Rose went to bed, leaving Millie and myself to enjoy a bottle of wine between us. She had kindly offered to put me up in her spare bedroom that night.

I slept well beneath her sloping roof where a large roof window enabled me to lull myself off to sleep by gazing at the stars above. It was a lovely night and almost like sleeping outside. However I did have the benefit of a warm radiator in the room as well.

On Monday the travelling by train was much better and I was back aboard ‘Futurest’ by 2 pm.

The ice had finally all disappeared.

It had been a lovely weekend.

Small Boat Excursions

You know; my good friend Bones is an absolute genius, though of course she is far too modest to admit it even remotely.

But the fact is, this is not the first occasion when she has suggested an idea which after very little consideration on my part has been swallowed up wholeheartedly, though not necessarily as a result of what I may have read in her column in Canal Boat Magazine.

In the pre Christmas edition of the mag she just happened to mention a wish list she had, which contained a small dinghy that could be very useful for exploring exciting looking waterways; those little green and weedy creeks with low sun-drenched bridges, overshadowed by unkempt trees that draw, in passing, the envious eye of the adventurous narrowboat skipper but which he knows are far too narrow and shallow for him ever to navigate. He has to be content to pass them by forlornly, wondering what magic garden might have been there.

Being of that sort of enterprising nature myself, very early on in my boating career I considered that some kind of small boat would be the only way of satisfying this urge for further exploration so had considered various small dinghies or perhaps a kayak even as suitable options. But I always came up against the same seemingly insurmountable challenge:

Where would I stow this small boat on board when not in use?

I have noticed that lots of people plonk them on the roof along with other clutter. But I find this idea not very suitable since being a single-hander means that in locks, when I am prancing over the top of the boat, any thing up there other than a clear roof, for me is a serious hazard and could prove fatal. Having a rigid solar panel is quite enough, as well as the various mushroom vents, boathooks, poles, planks and centre lines, all of which are there for the sole purpose of tripping me up.

Some people tow dinghies behind them but in the narrow confines of our canal system these can be a troublesome hindrance when manoeuvring and when proceeding through locks they must be a nightmare. Also they become untidy depositories for junk one wouldn’t otherwise have and accumulated rainwater, discoloured with stagnation; all in all a most unsatisfactory setup.

So I was content to just dream as I drifted by, for example tantalising drains that lead off the River Witham or the numerous disused but extensive Brindley oxbows, where the North Oxford Canal has been straightened during its history, and I never gave the idea another consideration.

That is until Bones’ wish list.

Her suggestion was a foldable dinghy (brilliant!) and she had been foresighted enough to insert a web address for me to look up too; bless her.

 www.seahopperfoldingboats.co.uk

My mind was on the wheel of adventure again.

The site was impressive, especially when I discovered that the smallest size of dinghy made would fit when folded, neatly and almost unobtrusively behind my easy chairs in the Saloon. This is space beneath the gunnel that I don’t use anyway and it would not be missed even if the boat remained there forever. Also there would be no need for clutter on the roof or any unwieldy encumbrance astern of ‘Futurest’.

 

The dinghy being carried

 

I was almost sold on the spot and nearly clicked on ‘my basket’ at the ‘checkout‘ straightaway. However I decided that it would make a nice break to travel down to Wellington in Somerset to see where the boats were manufactured and to see one of the boats already built, in situ.

 

…. being rowed

 

Having phoned Steve the proprietor, he arranged to pick me up at Taunton Railway Station, take me the eight miles to show me his establishment and then deliver me back to the Corner House Hotel in Taunton where I had booked to stay for one night.

 

……. and sailed

 

And that’s all there was to it.

I travelled down on Tuesday morning to Taunton and returned the following day having purchased the ‘Crafty Scamp’ leaving a deposit, the balance of the agreed price to be paid just prior to delivery in a month’s time.

Hopefully we shall enjoy a lot of extra pleasure this summer.

The Awakening

In the glorious sunshine today, as if to welcome in 2013, my customary walk around Warwick and the large St Nicholas Park, which is adjacent to the River Avon, was highlighted by the many people that I encountered on the way.

Like me all of them had bright smiles on their faces and in return to my similar greeting, were full of cheerful and unselfconscious “Happy New Years”, in spite of the late night that many of them must have subjected themselves to earlier.

Sunshine works wonders and after the seemingly endless weeks of gales and continuous rain that we’ve all had to put up with, this day’s opportunity was far too good to miss. The spring-like weather had lured us all out and we were feeling, very obviously, the same cheerful optimism at the beginning of this 2013.

What a difference a little sunshine makes even to Nature herself. After taking refuge during the recent poor weather, my faithful winter companion the Robin was eager to tell us all again that he was around, and with mouth wide open was singing his heart out very bravely and with great gusto; happy to be alive.  At the same time a lively male blackbird flapped around in the undergrowth looking for sustenance with his busy clacking call that sounds like a barber’s scissors, while a confident little Wagtail of the pied variety was happy to strut along the footpath just in front of me, cheekily flicking his long tail in my direction. It was good to see them all again.

Even the flora is celebrating the optimistic beginning of the year. Back at the boatyard, close to the mooring, I noticed the arrival of spring bulbs just beginning to poke through the mulch of dead leaves. After any sort of winter this sight is very encouraging.

 

Snowdrops and wild Primrose

 

A circle of friends

 

It is heartening to know that we have not been forgotten by the Spring. Her awakening is here.