How was it for you?

Were this week’s storms horrendous, stressful, expensive, devastating or over-hyped events for you? Storms are not something floating home owners take lightly.

Storm Eunice was of course only the latest storm of this winter. In the past 4 months we’ve floated our way through 6 named storms each affecting our narrowboat home/office/and work in different ways. For each though we prepare in similar ways – preparing the boat, ourselves, the dog and, if we have it with us, the car.

Boat… if we know there are storms coming and we have a choice, we would choose a canal rather than river. Flooding from rising water levels is more easily managed on a canal, and on a river you can find yourself unable to get off the boat if levels rise around you.

If we can we would rather moor with rings or bollards set into mooring sites or via chains attached to metal piling alongside the towpath rather than mooring hooks or mooring pins. The pins need to be hammered into the ground and if rain makes the ground very soft as often happens in storms the pins and the attached ropes can come loose or at worst completely detach, leaving the boat drifting free. We’ve rescued too many drifting boats in the past year from soggy pin moorings to risk this with our home. We’ve also brought a couple to the side that have been drifting with ropes trailing mooring hooks which have wiggled free from the metal piling as boats or winds create movement, so although we have them onboard we prefer to use chains. Whatever we have moored to, before a storm we check our ropes and the knots that connect the boat to the mooring point.

So we’ve opted for a canal over a river, fixed mooring points and then no overhanging trees or rickety looking buildings too close by. We take most things off our roof so we don’t lose things, or cause problems for others nearby with missiles hurtling off our boat.

Back in late November Storm Arwen came upon us when we were moored at Fradley Junction near Lichfield in Staffordshire. It brought chilling winds and snow during the early hours. In preparation we had brought in enough fuel for a day or two, put a torch at both exits from the boat and also kept a thermos of hot water ready in case we had to thaw ropes or zips to exit the boat! As it happened the rear metal hatch which we normally use to leave the boat froze solid so we needed to leave via the front cratch.

In early December Storm Barra arrived whilst we were moored at Acton Trussell. The only thing we noticed was an increased number of sticks for the fire conveniently lying on the towpath for us as we walked the dog!

Dog – his activities are curtailed during storms being always walked on a lead just in case a gust blows him into the canal. He does have a habit of walking on the very edge of the towpath so we don’t take any chances. As he’s getting older now he’s going out in a coat and harness with a handle – the coat to keep him warm and the harness to allow me to hoick him out if he goes for an impromptu swim.

Car – we seek somewhere to park away from overhanging trees – Eunice has forced it into a multi-storey car park nowhere near the top and not in the basement in case that floods!

Storm Malik named in late January by our Danish friends began whilst we were moored on the Macclesfield Canal at Bollington. Barely had it whimpered away from Cheshire than Storm Corrie took its place. This was a storm I was most aware of. Corrie appeared during the day whilst we were out walking up to the exposed viewpoint of White Nancy and the gusts were such at they were capable of knocking walkers off balance. It was that night in the dark that I really became aware of Storm Corrie.

The tawny owl who had called the night before fell totally silent and the ever-vocal Canada geese were quiet too. Maybe they moved into the fields to seek shelter in grassy hollows whilst the owl sought a non-swaying shelter.

The long and the short of it was that we survived Corrie…and Dudley so fast forward to Storm Eunice. When she started we were on the Shropshire Union Canal in Chester not far from the famous Cathedral and walls. We were moored to rings and with everything we had space for moved off the roof. Some sacks of coal remained on the roof and so did some plants. I had to hope that the latter would be heavy with the regular recent downpours not to be hurled into the canal. If they disappear and they float, I will fish them out if I can. Anything loose on the roof has been put into the cratch (the space at the front of the boat) and the cratch cover securely zipped and fastened. It is old and doesn’t fit as well as it did because it has stretched in some places and shrunk in others (we’re heading towards a replacement in late spring) but hopefully it will hold.

I managed to complete meetings and work assignments before the worst of Eunice arrived. Like anyone in a bricks and mortar house or office, we could lose internet or phone signals if nearby masts are affected but it didn’t happen.

Around 1pm (Friday) the wind started picking up. The gusts caused the canvas cratch cover at the front of the boat to start tugging and pulling against its zips and fixings. If it rips it rips…and everything underneath it will be at risk of being hurled into the canal. The storm brought moment of calm and then sudden squalls of noisy violence which left my heart in my mouth as the cover thumped and the boat swung on what slack the wind created in the ropes as they strained tight before hitting the side once more. There is nothing to do at these times but sit tight, hope and distract ourselves. I put on music to cover the sound of the gasps and groans from me and the boat!

White horses gallop past on waves moving rapidly down the canal past the Cathedral and past the boat. Water slaps against the metal hull making huge gulping sounds as it is squeezed into the gap between the stone canal bank and the boat. The boat lurches in the big gusts and rocks gently afterwards as if recovering ready for the next onslaught. Inside everything that is hanging, plants, coats, swings and sways. The water is choppy in the dog’s water bowl to his surprise. Although he’s now deaf and can’t hear the chorus of thumps and bangs he can feel the agitation. Normally he sleeps through the afternoons as we work but the storm unsettles him so he sleeps with one eye open…just in case.

We are lucky – we can’t be affected by power cuts – we generate power from the engine and solar panels on the roof (surprisingly the morning of Eunice brought us 200 watt hours).

Eunice in Greek means a joyous victory and I think our preparations have helped us to a victory over the strength of the storm. We have had one loss – but a doormat seems minor.

These storms provide a life lesson for us all not only of the imperative to reduce global warming but of managing risk – preparing well, practicing, planning for every eventuality and hoping.

I hope you survived Eunice as unscathed as we have, and as we all move forward to Storm Franklin whenever that arrives, that we can all prepare effectively and survive through a combination of planning and luck.