Slow way, small person way

Cruising with an energetic 3 year old is something we’ve avoided doing by ourselves – until now. Up to this point we have always had a seriously big family crew on board with the small person so there is a tillerman/woman, crew for locks and a child crew allocated at all times. Now he’s 3 and sensible (as much as any of us are), listening (most of the time) following instructions (usually) and very au fait with the boat it seemed a good time to head off together, just Steve, me, the dog (who turned out to be a very good nanny) and the 3 year old.

Lessons from this experience….planning paid off…building in stops and ideally working out if poos and pees are needed before not during lock approaches as at this age everything is immediate and urgent – there is little warning – things need to happen NOW which seems just the same as lock operations. The most important lesson is one I remember from TV days- expect the unexpected when working with wildlife and children.

We planned 3 locks and 5 miles plus a rewatering stop. We started after an early lunch in lovely weather (until the wind picked up). We prepared for poos and pees and snacks plus toy time and were feeling quite self satisfied after lock one.

It was a text book execution of lock operation with small child on board no less. I hopped off and tied up the boat on the lock moorings whilst Steve entertained and explained. We swapped over and he did the manual work whilst I discussed horses in the field around us and bird life, and then came into the lock when the gate was open, travelled up holding us neatly to the side on a centre line. Then smoothly out and waited patiently for Steve to close the gate and join us. Spot on.

Lock two wasn’t far ahead but not quite so text book this time… I scraped my knee and bashed my hand scrambling up onto the high lock moorings as the river is really low at the moment. Words were exchanged between the skipper who felt I had gone out too early, and I who thought my timing was spot on. Gongoozlers alongside didn’t help . Still, into the lock, missed the first rope thrown to me ( “I good at catching Granny – why you not?”) and caught the second. Travelled up and out. Picked up the shore crew member and headed off to the waterpoint.

On the way there were ripples, moorhens and mallard duck to watch, dragonflies and banded demoiselles to spot as they flew past us. Willow trees, rosebay willowherb and reeds created ribbons of greens and pinks along the way. Just being aboard was entertainment too.

Water took time. Not as slow as Fradley which we have decided is the slowest water point ever, but maybe we were lower on water than we thought… it took us nearly an hour to fill up. We have no idea how big our tank is, but it seemed forever with a bored 3 year old, although it gave time for drawing, a poo and some songs, as well as learning how to discover where you are on canal maps.

Climbing walls was quite literally an activity which proved a delightful distraction as did a snack and a drink although the gingerbread man proved too fiery! Fortunately he had a fire engine to hand (and a triceratops for backup…).

And then, into the third and final lock, where things unravelled… because we had bargained without a pen and her 3 cygnets. She ushered them into the lock ahead of us. Ours is not to reason why but we wondered if she had come down the lock and out of her normal territory so was using us to travel back up. No sooner were the top gates open than she held back beside the boat but her cygnets edged out ahead of the boat straight into the ferocious charge of an irate cob who hurtled into the lock heading for the invading pen intent on disposing of the interloper. Chaos reigned. The swans hissed and spat, flapped and the cygnets peeped frantically for help as I tried to edge the boat out without running any birds over.

They weren’t looking at avoiding boats – they had more pressing matters to deal with. The pen was fighting for her life and her youngsters. I meanwhile had edged so far to the left coming of of the lock to avoid the cygnets that we ended up walloping a willow tree, collecting lots of leaves and a 3 year old sat cheerfully alongside me giggling as willows swept his hair into a new style.

I managed to avoid all swans, extract us from the willow and get to the far side to the lock mooring but the current and wind swung the bow round so we almost ended up broadside across the lock entrance! Not textbook. I was though more worried about the swan but fortunately a local boat dweller was at hand to help and apparently does this regularly. Brandishing a large branch she literally swept the irate cob from the lock, closed the gate and let the mum and babies down to where they had come from. I meanwhile was battling boat and current but a yell for Steve brought him back.

Two lessons learned for us – we need a longer right hand centreline, and looping the stern rope over the tiller is fine if nothing happens as it hasn’t for several years but it was swept into a complete cats cradle this time when we wanted a swift-to-use rope. The only thing at risk throughout was pride and I bent our tiller pin on the overhanging willow – oops. Maybe it’s time to get a duck one?

Still we extracted ourselves, turned the boat to head up river again  and set off for our final destination for the 3 year old. Then we needed to keep him calm whilst we moored with the excitement of having seen Mummy waiting for us – that proved a challenge but we made it. Moored and right by a pub with a playground- planning reaps rewards!

For us it was the precursor to a very pleasant evening cruise with just the usual crew of two humans and a hairy hound to Leicester. Lots of help at the locks from cheery locals, eye catching street art, new buildings promising a totally different look to the city and only a disappointing amount of litter marred the trip.

We are heading for a parkrun to make Steve’s 99th parkrun today. It is our first time mooring in a city since we became continuous cruisers – another new experience. We are in a CRT visitor mooring with Evening Standard and Paddington Bear. We got the last spot at the end of the mooring right by the gates to the Castle Gardens which Cola thinks are delightful particularly as on his first walk he discovered the remains of a large picnic…

I don’t even need to check if Leicester City Rowing Club are running a regatta or some event tomorrow as we’re in the midst of Henley, but we are moored at the end of the mile straight.

The thing that worries me most is the large number of swans around – I think they’ve got it in for me on this trip! They are though, handy indicators of river depth.

Would we do it again with a small person on board? Can’t wait!

P.S. No chance of a new tiller pin – Steve straightened the old one out with a mallet!