Heading out into the unknown

It’s been a harrowing start to the new year for so many. We know of boaters who have lost their homes, been washed off moorings by rising flood waters and either damaged or sunk by water or falling trees.

Not our pictures but these photographers captured the terrifying reality of the past week fot some whose homes have been marooned or lost

We’ve been hugely fortunate having made the decision to base ourselves in a marina with controlled water levels and secure moorings but this weekend we’re heading back out to where we belong – travelling the canals and (eventually when they become navigable again, the rivers).

So this is preparation time. We’re making the most of the mains electricity we paid to be connected to. The washing machine is going flat out and we’ve taken the opportunity to do one really hot wash (we normally wash on cold).

This is supposed to be part of the item in the picture below!

The old throttle and gear handle (officially the Morse control) came off in my hand on Steve’s birthday as we made our way from Middlewich and Steve made one of his fantastic hasty repairs. This is what we use to go forwards, backwards and alter the boat’s speed for mooring so when we’re on the move it’s working hard all the time. Despite its temporary repair it still had to be nursed with care through all the remaining months, and coming up through Atherstone Flight was nerve-wracking wondering if it would snap again.

This is it in pieces still as I write. It needs to be together if we are to move this weekend…

We think it may have been an original handle, so it’s given good service for over 30 years, over many miles and through many locks. Finding a new one at a reasonable price was no mean feat, but Steve sourced one and is now in the process of installing it with his Christmas presents of new throttle and gear cables.

While he’s doing that I shall be filling us up with water while we’re moored right by a water point, emptying all the toilet cassettes, finishing a Spring clean whilst I’ve got the immersion heater working and giving loads of hot water and washing all the rag rugs at the same time.

Measham teapot and ginger jar secured 🤞

I will be checking anything that could suffer from engine vibration is made secure – memo to self we’re running out of non slip fabtic and bluetack! Boatdog will no doubt be staying out of the way, snuggled on her bed that was (to her delight) washed earlier in the week!

Once we’ve finished all frantic activity, we will no doubt indulge in long hot showers in the marina’s showers with their underfloor heating and never-ending hot water!

It has been a good move for us to have had the boat in a marina for the past 5 weeks. We’ve been away from her often, and it’s been comforting to know she would be OK with people keeping an eye on her. When we’ve been back onboard, we’ve been grateful for strong mooring points as storm winds have rocked and buffeted us. We haven’t had to worry about finding moorings away from trees that might land on us or trying to moor into saturated ground. We’ve had the car with us and benefited from secure parking that hasn’t flooded, so the pluses have been many. We haven’t had to contend with flooded, muddy towpaths, either.

But for us, it is time to get back on the cut. We have missed it. We miss moving; miss mooring in dark,unlit places with only owls for company; miss seeing new places; watching wildlife in their homes outside ours; miss the changing views from our windows; miss discovering towns and villagss we would never have stopped in without our floating home: and most of all we miss the feeling of freedom.

Where will we go? We will go safely, and slowly without any rush. Our first intention is to head off the Ashby, along the Coventry, onto the Trent and Mersey. That will take us some weeks – yes, weeks! We are heading into Derbyshire for a major change to the boat! Exciting times ahead.

Whatever the year ahead holds for you, we hope you are warm, dry, and safe. That there are things to look forward to, adventures to be had familiar things to bring you comfort amid much to bring you joy. For us, those all come from our family and living out on the cut.

Wishes for you for 2024

We wish you a healthy and happy year ahead.

We wish you contentment and calm: peace and perspective.

We wish you love and laughter, tears of joy alone, and the chance to make happy memories on your journey through 2024 to last a lifetime.

May you find the courage to follow your dreams wherever they lead, embracing what you find along the way.

May 2024 be special for you and those you love.

And may most (if not all) of life’s locks in the coming year be set in your favour.

Happy Christmas!

This Christmas, some former UK veterans will celebrate having homes thanks to the charity we’ve donated to in lieu of sending cards. They won’t only have a home, but one that floats with all the benefits we know that brings for physical and mental health.

Bringing boats that need new owners, often boats that have been abandoned, back into use for homeless veterans many of whom also feel abandoned, is valuable work. It has galvanised many companies, individuals in the boating world and former veterans to unite in working together to get boats ready for service, but anyone can get involved. We know what it takes to renovate a boat – you need many, many skills!

There are jobs for everyone in such a wide-ranging project. Every boat demands multiple jobs, from skilled plumbing, electrics or engine fettling to making curtains and furnishings. General tasks of sanding, washing, cleaning, scrubbing and when boats are being moved to be worked on, there’s lock wheeling to do (that’s something we’ve been delighted to help with), are tasks for everyone, skilled and unskilled.

Lockwheeling for the amazing Pete Ballinger as he towed nb Capricorn in for Forces Vets Afloat in 2022.

Christmas is a time when every charity is vying to get their important work recognised, seeking donations in an ever-shrinking pot as people struggle with the cost of living and the cost of festive extras. For us Forces Vets Afloat has resonance through its connection with the forces, with canals, with providing people homes which change lives, and in an environment which brings a combination of challenge and calm. If you’re a boater looking to gift your own boat new ropes you can support the charity by buying ropes through their website www.ForcesVetsAfloat.co.uk –

The winds of Storm Pia are rocking our own home, and rain is lashing against the windows as I write this. Being homeless in any weather can be soul-destroying but at this time of the year it seems even more poignant. Having a home which offers shelter and security but can also physically transport anyone to a new, rewarding way of living is a truly remarkable life-changing gift. It’s also entry into a wonderful, supportive community.

Delighted to spot what I was convinced was the Christmas star on the Coventry Canal (actually Chris Hicks’ wind generator but that’s a bit too prosaic for this time of year!) 🤣

Giving isn’t just for Christmas – it can make us all feel good at any time of year. The skipper is off giving blood as I write, something we both organise to so as often as we can through the year whenever we are near a donation point.

Whatever you are giving this Christmas and throughout the coming year – enjoy your giving.

 

 

Book keeping at this time of year

As well as the perennial “Isn’t it cold on board?” many people say they couldn’t move onto a boat because of their books.

When we first moved afloat our books were a massive stumbling block, books from childhood, books from academic life, literature we grew up with, those books that drew us back time and time again, and those that formed a fundamental part of us, like Steve’s entire Arthur Ransome collection of which he had two sets – one bequeathed and one gathered over years. We couldn’t fit them all on a 50ft home if we were to live there with them, but we couldn’t get rid of them. What were we to do with these much-loved friends?

Some books were easy donations to charity shops and second-hand book stores, friends, former colleagues, and family, but not as many as we hoped went this way. The rest were divided into two piles – keep and reread before making a decision. We spent a very happy time rereading, and that helped the charity shop pile to grow but still left an alarming number of books to keep. Some were paperbacks, some big hardbacks. Size matters on a boat, but it didn’t make life any easier. There was the world cookbook my late brother gave me, a weighty tome which has his inscription to me on the flyleaf. I can’t part with it, but as a sailor, he would have understood my recognition that it cannot come aboard. But it must be kept. Every book in storage costs so those we are storing we have to love, and to be reunited with one day, either by making more space on the boat (perhaps by saving up for Kev Kyte and his wizard welders to expand our boat by a library), or if we return to bricks and mortar at some point.

We finally put just 8 boxes of books into store (one box of Arthur Ransomes). We have two book cases on board that have to double as storage as well as homes for books. The second set of Arthur Ransome’s reside under the bed (if I’m honest I’m not sure why – maybe they feel at home there)!

What makes this even harder is that we keep acquiring books and reading books, and the canals help us with this. Book exchanges exist across the network, in lock keeper’s huts (like at the Atherstone and Hillmorton flights – T&M and Oxford), toilet blocks (Norbury Junction, Willington and too many more to mention across the network), ex-telephone boxes all over the place (like at Crick near the shop), and in some cases (Stoke Golding on the Ashby, Berkhampstead on the GU) outside houses near the canal. Every one has gems that call out to be brought back and explored, that give us new ideas, new thoughts, new journeys, that terrify, amuse, have us laughing out loud or trembling under the covers hoping the doors are all locked!           

Book exchanges expand our minds in gloriously unexpected ways and allow us to share too

This year I’ve read hundreds of books, and there are always books my wish lists. I’m just finishing this year’s wonderful October birthday gifts. Raynor Winn’s The Salt Path is another story of a couple who were made homeless through trust. They found themselves without a home and facing a medical death sentence. Their story as nomads, walking the coast, is as inspiring and full of hope as it is haunting. Descriptions of nature and its power are familiar, even though the setting is far from us. The reactions of people to them make you question which you would be and which you would want to be – ignorer, giver, aggressor. Winn’s writing has changed how I see those with homes on their backs. It is a book that has made me try to be a better person.

Books change how we behave and act.

Some books are sheer escapism and utterly bonkers like another birthday delight – Jonas Jonasson’s The Hundred-Year-Old-Man who climbed out of the window and disappeared. It gives me hope that proper old age doesn’t have to be boring! Criminals, murder, a 5-tonne elephant named Sonya, incompetent police and even marriage await the centenarian prepared to head off in search of adventure (and vodka).

Mary Colwell’s Curlew Moon has made me tread more carefully on my path, setting me actively planning to head back to the sections of the Leeds and Liverpool Canal, where the distinctive call of the curlew and their unmistakeable outlines abound. Learning more about these delicate ground-nesting birds and their fight for survival keeps me to paths with Boatdog firmly on a lead at nesting times.

Books change our behaviours, thoughts, and understanding.

Living on a boat changes people too. It makes us more generous. We know we can’t keep every book but we can read, enjoy, benefit and then share them for them to wreake their magic on others.

This year on board we will indulge ourselves in the Icelandic tradition on Christmas Eve of Jolabokflod. We will give each other books and experience the joy of reading together in the cosy warmth of the stove. [We don’t have the entire family on board for Christmas – that could be a bit crowded but this year’s family Christmas doesn’t start until 26…we are unique!].

We can’t get up to the amazing Barter Books on our narrowboat to find books for each other from there, but this year we are close to the astonishing Astley Book Farm near Bedworth (thanks @nbmomentous), so we’ve been there to find festive delights for each other. We each chose for ourselves and then bought the other’s choice as well as choosing a surprise for the other! What would you choose?

That’s handy!

As a result, our Christmas afloat with just the two of us and Boatdog will be as indulgent as two bibliophiles could wish.

📚 + 🍷/🍺 = ❤️

 

Our Christmas Survival Guide

We’ve already begun our family Christmastide, so now seems a good opportunity to share what we’ve learned over the years. Every family is different, so what would you contribute to a survival guide?

2024 festivities have begun for us

Create a plan so everyone can contribute and feel part of the festive season in terms of what they buy, bring and do within their budget or opportunity. We’re lucky in having a family spreadsheet (even more fortunate its not run by me) which lets us all share the costs and shopping for the festive season.

Harmony is what really matters. It’s only a few days so bite your tongue, count to 10, pretend not to hear and/or remember you really do love them all. [This is my personal reminder]

Respect that everyone has different needs at this time of year – it’s a tough time for many.

Identify what brings you (and others) stress at Christmas and pare it down or cut it out, from taking on all the cooking to spending time listening to Great Aunt Edith’s complaints

Simplify everything to make space for what really counts the things you all enjoy and love doing

Take the chance to spend time with everyone and let everyone spend time together

Make some gifts and decorations if you can – homemade says so much about how much you care – or if you’re in Leicestershire come and buy some from the Moving Crafts stall at the Swan Inn, Mountsorrel on Saturday 16th December between 12 and 4pm

Ask what everyone would like to do, to eat, to drink and get them on the list so there’s something for everyone and no one is forgotten

Share the planning, preparation, cooking and entertaining of small children. Each task is fun if you don’t have to do it all or all the time.

One funky homemade Robin getting ready to roost in someone’s tree

Space – we all need it however much we love each other

Understand as much as you can everyone’s perspective

Revel in the free things of the festive season – time to walk together, time to enjoy each other’s company

Value each other – everyone is different and amazing and this is a chance to spend time together

Include everyone who wants to be included in activities and recognise some will want to sit some out

Value traditions or make this the year to create some new ones

Activity is vital – exercise brings rosy cheeks and breathing /head space

Laugh together – my memories of Christmas are us all laughing until my sides hurt and tears stream down my face, usually at something utterly ridiculous


Games are a key part of our Christmases together but Monopoly has been banned for some years the sake of peace

Underline the important and make time for it – that’s what is important not just to you but to everyone around you at this festive time

Indulge in the things you all love – walking tours of nearby Christmas lights, a festive visit to the pub together, carols, or charades

Do remember less is more in food, drink, decorations, and presents but that doesn’t mean you love someone less, just that you’ve put more thought into maximising what matters

Enjoy your Christmas when it comes 🎄

Winter of some content…just

December and winter came hand in hand to a canal near us as they did for many people in diverse locations this week.

We love winter on the boat when it’s crisp and cold outside and cosily comforting inside. The cold as we open the back hatch takes our breath away, but when we return to the boat, we are embraced in the all-enveloping warmth from the stove. My favourite winter activity is stepping down into the boat!



Monday started this week with mud, gloopy, boot-sucking, paw-encasing mud. Tuesday, I spent working at the computer toasting myself gently beside the stove, enjoying the sun streaming through the window beside me. On the odd occasions I moved from the computer to the kettle and back, Boatdog instantly chose to keep my seat warm (or pinch it as the case may be!).

By Wednesday the towpath was crunchy as temperatures dropped and mud froze. It made for much easier walks and running, and brought some stunning sunsets. The evening colours here in North West Leicestershire are truly remarkable, and at this time of the year nothing short of stunning. The only trouble in November is that the light disappears rapidly – not helpful when bumbling off down the towpath for a run and finding oneself returning in near total darkness. At least there’s more chances of seeing tawny owls in the fading light even if it’s almost impossible to see where you’re putting your feet! Memo to self – keep a head torch in your running jacket whatever the time because enjoyment often makes you stay out too long! 



Thursday, though, brought a different feel to the canal as well as the towpath. As we woke and began moving about on the boat, we could hear ice cracking around us. The first freeze of the canal this winter for us had begun. Normally I welcome the ice, but not this week. This week, for once, we had places to go, and ice can stop narrowboats in their tracks.

In the days of commercial canal traffic there ice breakers were employed to keep the waterways open. These heavily plated vessels were generally narrower than a standard barge, that helped prevent them getting stuck in pack ice, particularly around locks or bridges. As the ice became thicker, more and more horses would be attached to pull the boat through the cut. The record apparently was 16 horses attached to a single boat!


This week we are leaving our home for a while to join the family for pre-Christmas celebrations together. Just as in a house, on a boat, freezing weather can cause pipes to burst with horrendous results. We don’t want to completely drain the pipes and water tank. As our only heating is the multi-fuel stove without us being on board there’s no one to stoke the stove, and so everything on board will get cold and potentially damp. That’s not a good feel for any home and its contents.



So another advantage of a floating home is the capacity (theoretically) to move it to somewhere where it can stay warm and safe whilst we’re away. That is unless the canal freezes and stops you moving! Ice can cause scratch damage to blacking and paintwork on a narrowboat. It can be far more serious for GRP cruisers. To be honest, when there’s ice, we enjoy staying put, often enabling us to put off moving day and outstaying the 14-day maximum stay on mooring spots.  However, this year we had booked a space for the boat in a marina where we could attach a mains power cable, pay for electricity and leave a small electric heater working on board to keep the chill off whilst we were off the boat. That prevents pipes freezing, stops mould and damp, and also makes our home rather more pleasant to return to in time. It would be a shame to spend the whole family Christmas celebration wondering what on earth we might be returning to.



Thursday morning was sinking heart time as we were due into the marina on Friday early. The forecast had suggested a cold night, but somehow, the amount of ice around caught me by surprise. The forecast for Thursday night meant an early start on Friday to get to the marina would be impossible. We took the decision (with fingers crossed) that by early Thursday afternoon, if there was enough of a thaw to let us move safely, then we would before the cold air returned to create another freeze.



It was a bit of an anxious morning on Thursday but after lunch there was enough of a thaw to be able to turn the boat and head south once more. We made it to the marina to be greeted warmly and headed to our berth to revel in the sheer bliss of getting off onto a pontoon (duck and goose poo is better in many ways than mud as you step off, and even better when frozen!).



Within hours we were attached to the glories of mains power, and revelling in hot, unlimited showers as well as finding water and waste disposal just steps away. This is how the other half lives it appears, and on the few nights we are on board and the many more we are away this month it will be a real gift to ourselves and our boat.



Boatdog has been a little unimpressed so far because the power has allowed me to put the immersion heater on to heat enough water to give her a nice deep bath to wash away all that previously collected mud! She dried rapidly by the fire and now all clean and fluffy has been able to take up a new role as a fascinated bricks and mortar Guarddog.



As we enjoy our family pre-Christmas Christmas – we wish you a warm and safe start to winter and December.

Hopeful migration or staying put

Migration is in the news, it’s high on the political agenda. It fuels fierce and often aggressive debate, but it is taxing my mind this week in what I think of as original, basic ways.

A resident Mute swan – territorial unless conditions force localised migration


The swallows, swifts, and house martins who were still evident swooping low above the water in front of the boat as we made our way south from Yorkshire at the start of October have now gone.

Their long voyages cross continents. By now they’ve travelled via France and Portugal to winter in Africa, some 3,400 miles of flight. They head south for warmer weather, more ready food supplies to see them through our cold months, and for each of these tiny darting birds, their journey has been far riskier than ours. They have to hope that they can evade bad weather, skyscrapers, powerlines, loss of places to rest en route, and attacks by human and animal predators during their journeys. If they can safely navigate these remarkable distances and avoid the many perils to life on the way, and do this taxing journey twice in one year, then we can hope to see them diving and swooping around us once more as we unite on the canals next Spring. Maybe next year I’ll get a decent photo of them too!

There are migrants like Canada and Egyptian geese that have decided to stay here – some in vast numbers.


The blackbird enjoying the ivy berries in the hedge opposite the boat may well migrate to mainland Europe if the winter here proves more bitter than that over there. As some birds leave for warmer climes, some have headed towards us, considering it warmer here than their normal hangouts in Scandinavia and Iceland. Redwings and fieldfares are still gorging themselves on the remaining berries that drew them here in early Autumn.


Our native tawny owls are at their noisiest right now, and it is glorious hearing them from nightfall through the night. They are making a real racket right now, and the boat is a perfect spot to hear what’s going on. The young are off hunting for somewhere to call their own, and the older birds are calling out to defend their territories. The females shriek – that’s the only word for their too-whit whilst the males hoot too-whoo. We’ve been falling asleep these past weeks listening to their vocal battles echoing around us.


The farmer by our current mooring has been preparing the lambing sheds and bringing his in-lamb ewes to pasture near the farm, getting ready for the next stage of the cycle of life. Along the canal, the early birds are only a few weeks off getting ready to start their own cycle of reproduction.

The grey herons and rooks will soon start collecting sticks and getting the prime locations for their nests – the herons will lay in January, so they need their homes built next month. The rooks may well find winter storms blow their nests apart, but they persevere in hope.


We’re doing much the same, really. We’ve migrated to a place we know is safe and sheltered, convenient for winter. Not totally ideal – there’s always a compromise (mud in this case). The pull to be back on a canal, avoiding the vagiaries of rivers and their potential for flooding is strong – security over everything, even the mud.

The advantages though include being able to take early morning runs following the darting flight up the canal of the vivid blue and red kingfisher or watching the early morning perambulations of the russet fox on the towpath as he eyes up and fails to enjoy a mallard breakfast.

The ducks, swans, moorhens, and cormorants remain with us, endlessly fascinating. It isn’t just us who need canals.

We all need to make the most of what’s around at this time of year, wherever we are. There is so much to see if we give ourselves space and time to really look. I also need to give myself more time to take some better bird photos!

There may be trouble ahead…

Preparation for the future is essential, and something many of us put off but we can’t. We have been getting ready for winter as the first winter storms chivvy us.

Getting a full-time liveaboard boat winter ready is very different from prepping a house or a car or a boat that sits in a marina.

Already this year I’ve heard about 10 times “It must be so cold on a boat in winter”, but if we get things right and plan ahead, it’s anything but… We are both sitting in t-shirts as I write.

We don’t have central heating, but our trusty Morso Squirrel multifuel stove which is located at the far end of the living area. As it’s our main source of heat we keep it going 24/7 from now until the end of winter. We are already foraging twigs and sticks as we walk the dog in dry spells. That cuts down the need to buy kindling or firelighters for the times we have to relight the fire if we’ve been out for any long period of time.

To keep the stove lit requires fuel, and we burn mainly smokeless Excel, with some foraged wood. Last year as prices were incredibly volatile, we were invested in buying a tonne of bagged Excel up front and were fortunate to have the generous loan of a garage to keep it in until we needed it. We got to summer with 8 of our 50 20kg bags remaining. Those are doing us nicely as we start to move into winter, although it hasn’t been bitterly cold yet despite the four storms that have moved over the UK since September.

We are almost at the end of our fuel, so we’ve ordered some from the coalboat Calisto that supplies the route where we’re currently moored. It should be passing us early next week, and if we’re out for any reason, walking the dog, shopping, Mark will just drop the bags of smokeless Excel ordered on our roof. This really is remarkable service – couldn’t be easier, and the coalboats that plie the waterways supplying coal, diesel in many cases and gas, are a lifeline for boaters.

Not only do we need to think about heating, but insulation (and ventilation too). In terms of insulation things will be a bit different for us this winter. In past years we’ve used secondary double glazing to help keep the heat generated by the stove, in the boat. This year though much of the acrylic sheet secondary glazing snapped and shattered when we were moving it from the main windows and the bathroom – victims of old age and good service. We could replace it for the four windows that are bereft this year, but we are nearly on target with our savings towards new windows, so as they will negate the need for secondary glazing anywhere, we don’t want to waste cash in the short term.

Winter also reduces the amount of solar our roof top panels generate. Maximising generation opportunities along with avoiding dangers in storms does influence how we move and where we moor at this time of year. Wooded areas are out. Dangers of trees falling in high winds and/or creating shade spots are things of which we are very aware.

Storm avoidance is impossible, but minimising impact by thoughtful mooring and not taking routes which are prone to issues can help. This year we had aimed to head for Loughborough which meant mooring on the River Soar, but heavy rains brought by Storm Aiden in October, Storm Babet and hot on her heels Storm Ciaran last month and now Debi topping up the water levels, have changed plans. We are keeping off the rivers, even if we could get onto them, and sticking to the canals for now. Canals are more regulated in terms of water flow and whilst towpaths may well end up as muddy tracks, they tend not to be flooded as moorings on rivers can be, both riverside or in marinas.

Winter is a time for living differently on board as Boatdog is discovering on her first winter afloat. Stews and casseroles cook gently on the stove, potatoes bake in its depths, and we craft and read more, working inside more than outside. Walks are brisk, running is a great way of generating body heat.  Like the birds and animals around us, our circadian rhythms mean we sleep more, responding to the hours of dark and light. We enjoy the change of pace, the more measured movement.

It is as the traveller and writer Paul Theroux said, an important time for us all. “Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.” It is a time for us, a time to think, to plan ahead, to hunker down away from the storms but also a time to look after and nuture ourselves, so we’re stocking up on coal and chocolate to cover all eventualities that storm Elin may bring whenever she appears!

 

 

Getting crafty – join us if you can!

Many of us turned to crafting during the lockdowns of the pandemic, learning new skills, or returning to old hobbies with renewed vigour or in some cases desperation.

Global research shows that the repetitive actions, multi-sensory engagement and satisfaction in creating something physical has a significant impact on our wellbeing, and reduces stress. The meditative nature of repetitive movements, demand for focus and attention in the moment have a restorative impact. Researchers from University College London; Sydney Australia and Finland have found textile crafts particularly result in positive feelings and emotions. Knitting and crochet, sewing and embroidery can, it appears, be real secret weapons in the feel-good fight!

But crafting on a narrowboat needs to come with a health warning. It can add to stress by significantly reducing the space one has to live in! Lockdown found me returning to knitting, something I learned as a young child in Scotland, and which I have picked up from time to time, but this time I returned with a vengeance. Jumpers, hats, scarves, all gleefully flew off the needles.

Crochet had always seemed a dark art to me – ending up in wiggly strands and strings of knots rather than clear shapes, but lockdown changes all that too. There’s a Facebook group for everything it seems, and the gloriously named Narrowboat Hookers and Stitchers community advised me to try some of the YouTube beginners videos (yes, there are videos for everything too), and hey presto – crochet became yet another passion.

Patterns, freely shared by other crafters became sources of new ideas, new stitches, new opportunities. Wool bought from other crafters who spin and dye, gifted by family and friends, sourced from charity shops, became positively therapeutic creations.

One of the joys of crafting is giving and gifting items, but when you’re gleefully intent on producing on an almost daily basis, even birthdays and Christmases just aren’t enough to absorb the output. The shower cubicle had to shrink as a result, and shelves of large boxes filled steadily with colours and items of all sorts. Baby clothes, toys, amigurumi animals and birds, hats, jumpers, traditional ganseys, and then headbands, bags, blankets, ponchos, gnomes, bunting….you’re getting the picture!

Every cushion cover on the sofa has a different shape each being stuffed with wool waiting to be used! What was space under the dining/office table is now crammed with boxes, containers and bags stuffed with buttons, ribbons, threads and stuffing. We’ve become versed in the intricacies of eco-friendly stuffings like buckwheat hulls versus synthetics.

Then the constraint of the boxes was outgrown and on a 50ft narrowboat space really is limited. So we began realising that we should from time to time, hold stalls to sell some of these items. That though isn’t quite so straightforward as it might sound. Setting up a stall alongside the boat in nice weather in a location where there will be passers by sounds ideal and very eco friendly. The transport costs of goods to market are probably a few feet at the most! To do that though requires a trader’s licence from Canal and River Trust. We duly applied, answered what seemed like an awful lot of questions, paid them more money, and began what proved a ridiculously complicated round of trying to get insurance. This presumably not in case our scarves strangle anyone or people overheat in our jumpers, but for public liability – in case people fall in the canal and injure themselves because they get so carried away looking at our goods on the outside of the boat! Finally we found insurance thanks to the support of other traders who recommended companies for us to try, and then we were able to obtain our traders licence.

In between times we took time out to go and see other traders, looking at how they displayed their goods, what they produced, and taking on board their freely, generously given advice. There are informal sales and formal markets, many run by the Roving Canal Traders Association. I don’t think there’s much that can’t be made and bought from a boat – from cheese to dog treats (our Boatdog thinks there’s no difference between those two things) from clothes to curtains, chimneys and culinary delights of all kinds.

We learned quickly that the weather dictates selling outdoors – overheated customers shun woolly goods in a heatwave as they beat a sweaty path to the ice cream boat. You don’t want to put up an outdoor stall in pouring rain or windy weather – no one will stop and stock will get ruined. You also need time to promote what and when you’re available so travelling from place to place every day doesn’t give any opportunity for marketing. We’ve also been talking to fellow boating crafters who want to sell their wonderful makes, but don’t want to trade themselves.

Now we have our licence, and we are settled in Leicestershire to be near and support family, it’s time to bite the bullet and get trading…but where given this weather?

An indoor pre-Christmas market seemed the best thing to start with – and we found one, a stone’s throw from the River Soar (where we had hoped to moor until the recent floods). We won’t be trading from the boat but not far away, and better still, we will be trading at a riverside pub that serves local ale and mulled wine. Seems an excellent alternative venue!

We will dip our toes into trading at The Swan Christmas Market in Mountsorrel on Saturday, 16 December. If you’re nearby do come along and see us – we’re really looking forward to meeting lots of customers, seeing people enjoying and buying our goods, and it will be glorious having more living space on the boat again! If you aren’t nearby, then we will be holding floating pop-up shops as we travel in 2024, advertising where and when we’ll be via our Instagram account @MovingCrafts. We look forward to seeing you sometime, somewhere, before too long.

 

 

Unwinding

After a period of frenetic activity it’s important to unwind, but how?

In our case it’s doing things we haven’t been able to do because we’ve been absorbed (happily I might add) in the mechanics and demands of travelling afloat. We are seeing family which is what we came to do, catching up with friends, having lazy mornings now the need for 7.30am starts is gone, and enjoying (when the winds and rain allow, and we can persuade her out) long leisurely walks with the dog.

It makes us more aware just how many people use the waterways we have as our home as their unwinding place. It’s rarely lonely out here – when we are moving or moored up we encounter others. Walkers, dog walkers (a subtle difference but a difference nonetheless), runners, joggers, canoeists, paddle boarders, and cyclists.

The waterway, particularly on the canals and the state of its towpaths makes a big difference to the nature of the unwinding going on. Tarmac or compacted surfaces lend themselves to mobility scooters, families with pushchairs, cyclists whizzing along, but those with more natural surfaces (currently mud) tend to attract the slower travellers. They are happy to pause, to chat if we’re working on the outside of the boat, cleaning windows, clearing leaves or collecting twigs for kindling brought down by the recent winds. All of those activities for us are part of our unwinding, embracing the slower pace once more.

Our return to a slower pace chimes with the change of season, the change of hours. Seasonality was something embraced in years gone by, a return to slower times, to seasonal foods cooked slowly on stoves lit for warmth.

It’s the same for us. The stove is now on to warm the boat, and while it’s doing so it’s gently creating warming stews of pulses, root vegetables and cooking baked potatoes for us. We’re slowly moving towards winter ways onboard.

The time has not yet come though to dig out the thermals from their summer storage under the main bed. The temperatures haven’t sent me digging out the fleece lined hoodies and layering up the Michelin man look yet and for that I’m grateful. We can enjoy the low sunlight that filters through the trees and dances from the water to cast patterns across the wooden ceiling in the boat with a feeling that it carries some warmth. The time will come for the cold crisp light of winter, but that can wait.

We are waiting too, for the rivers to subside, to see if we can get nearer to family, ranged as they are around the River Soar. Winter stoppages for Canal and River Trust work to be carried out are beginning across the network, but those aren’t an issue for us and our current plans. The weather is the issue for us. The Soar remains on flood alert (so not navigable) with locks physically chained shut and from where we’re moored now there are other stoppages too. Flooding caused by Storm Babet has washed a length of towpath and its piling into the water on our route so navigation is impossible. Flooding has turned moorings into wadings.

Moorings are a bit soggy!!!

There’s no point fretting, getting frustrated or fuming. We just need to make another casserole, set it gently cooking and enjoy our days. At some point we will be able to move but for now we are near enough to see family and be of use, so we are content.

I’ve booked a stall for an inside Christmas craft fair in December so I have plenty of makes to make for that. Im enjoying the gentlen unrushed therapy of knitting, crocheting, and painting once more. As well as making stock tonsell, there are Christmas presents and there’s the normal work to do to swell the coffers before we want to be off moving madly once more.

For now for us, it’s take stock, stock up and unwind.