Fishy goings-on in a murky underworld

As on land, problems never seem to come singly on water. We’ve wrestled with onboard flooding and finally identified the source (our fresh water tank) so continue a now monotonous cycle of sealing, filling, evaluating, mopping and resolving.

We have reduced the severity and number of leaks, identified and hopefully sorted them but working away this week and bubble support means we won’t be able to do much more testing until next week.

This week’s added concern has come from unidentified electronic alarms. What do they mean? Where are they coming from? Are they indicating something dire or expensive has gone wrong? Are they related to the boat or the marina connections? Can we sort whatever it is before we need to move on (if allowed) on 3 December as England’s second lockdown ends? Most crucially – is it serious, so serious it could result in us having to evacuate our floating home?

The noise is intermittent and irregular. Sometimes short sharp beeps, at others a rising series of notes, so is it emitted by one or more items? It appears we have only heard it at night, but is that because often during the day we are out, or because Alexa (yes, we have her onboard) is playing us music or the radio has drowned it out?

It is clearly an alarm and electronic. To be honest we don’t have that much on board that is electronic! We have done the rounds of the carbon monoxide monitor, the smoke alarm, mobile phones and the battery charger. The dog must have wondered what on earth we were doing, running up and down the boat stopping at intervals and listening – is it coming from here, from there, from inside, or out? The answer came, as these things often do, by chance. Steve went out to fetch fuel for the stove from the roof and came back laughing. The beeps are fishing alarms – and there are three fishermen on boats around us, each with a different make of alarm and each makes a different sound.

Spot the fishermen on the pontoons in the sunset

Having discovered the cause of the noise we can now relax. But it made me curious about what fishing from a marina pontoon might yield. The answer was unexpected but fascinating – they are seeking Zander, an invasive non-native fish which it is actually against the law to throw back. This fish is so tasty that it is commercially farmed in some countries like Denmark. It appears amazingly versatile, for everything from sushi to grilled or baked fillets. I don’t think I have ever eaten it (knowingly at least). Frozen fillets are on sale for £16 for 240g and the catch record in the UK for the species appears to be 9.7kgs.

Zander (aka Stizostedion or Sander lucioperca) is also known as the European pike-perch. It is now prevalent on several of our canals including the Ashby where it appreciates the dark shade created by boats, making a full marina zander heaven. Its predatory behaviour has led to it being regarded as a threat to native species like sticklebacks and gudgeon. It’s become such a problem since it was introduced to the UK in 1878 in lakes at Woburn Park in Bedfordshire, that many canals are now managed by electrofishing in sections to try and reduce its numbers.

Modern technology comes into play if you want to succeed in zander fishing apparently, not only using multiple rods with bite alarms but also employing bluetooth sonar to identify packs of zander. From the frantic and regular beeping we’ve heard, I imagined it would be really easy to get a picture of one, to nip across to a boat and peer at the catch but since I learned about them they appear to have become elusive… being caught only when I haven’t been around apparently unless that’s just a fishermans’ tale. This mini fillet was the total result of the past 24 hours so I was grateful for a Pixabay copyright free image to see this evil floating Dracula in its entirety!

The falling temperatures make me realise why anglers fishing from narrowboats buy alarms to tell them when a fish is biting so they can respond from the warm! The cold is something we’ve really noticed, particularly with this week’s work schedule. Imagine returning to a large metal box which which has been shut up all day with no heating as temperatures drop and you’ll realise why we’re becoming adept at laying the stove early in the morning before we leave so we can have it lit within seconds of returning at night. Soups, stews and hot drinks are coming into their own as vital means to raise temperatures and spirits alike.

The cold though does bring unique benefits we can’t enjoy at any other time of the year and which are even more apparent living on our non-centrally heated narrowboat….the chance to cuddle hot water bottles, to snuggle up on the sofa swathed in blankets, silvery white walks, the crisp crunch of the towpath as the slushy mud has set hard under foot, and we’ve enjoyed the most stunning sunsets reflected in the water which seems like a double treat. Coming back into the warmth after being out to appreciate the sights around us feels a real bonus – it’s worth nipping out into the cold just to get that chance to come back inside! Maybe this is the Scandinavian hygge but whatever it is, it is special.

As the temperatures take us towards Christmas we wonder like everyone else how we are going to be able spend it because of tiers and regulations, travel restrictions between tiers may hit us, and of course there is always the dilemma of should we morally mingle with those we love, particularly those with underlying health issues. My lockdown 2.0 return to running has been struck down too by a tight chest and runny nose which thanks to the C-19 by ZOE app necessitated a Covid-19 test for us both. Fortunately we have use of a car this month but I wonder how I will manage if in the future I fall ill and have to cycle the distance to some car park to stick a swab down my throat and up my nose!

Seeing lights and festive decorations lifts the spirits and it’s a delight to see them going up so much earlier this year, giving the chance to spot new ones every day. Narrowboat owners are doing their bit, and we’re starting to see decorations appearing. Some are going all out with the lights. I’ve made a start on natural and upcycled decorations with enjoyably emptied gin bottles doing duty as candlesticks. Once we leave the marina we will return to a lot of candlelit evenings as we return happily to our off grid lifestyle. I am also finding a surprising amount of satisfaction recycling toilet rolls into snowflakes – a highly recommended creative way to pass a winter evening!

A casualty of our time here has been our centre line which has frayed badly because of movement during the recent winds. By chance this seems a bit of a bonus as we do have a replacement, and if I can forage enough greenery I intend to use the old rope as the base for some natural festive swags along the side of the boat.

Incidentally our Covid tests were negative and we were texted the results remarkably within 12 hours. My chest infection must have been some winter bug, but I imagine I was not alone in jumping to instant conclusions that Covid was to blame. I’m lucky, it seems to have beat a retreat and the only thing that suffered was my return to running although I have managed to walk an average of 8+ miles daily.

We are going to head the boat in the direction of our family in the hope we can meet up somehow, somewhere for some of Christmas. We are going to self isolate on board for the two weeks beforehand to try and protect our family, but there is still confusion and no clarity yet from Canal and Rivers Trust about whether we will be able to travel through tiers to meet up. If we can, we will, if not we will load up with fuel, food and sit tight when we’ve found somewhere we want to moor. By my next blog next week we will be on the move to somewhere and we’re looking forward to it, wherever that may be to, and hoping for no more dramas en route!

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