Pickingupducks

Come spend a week afloat

“So what do you do all day?” people often ask when they hear we live on a narrowboat? Working and living afloat as continuous cruisers is different from having a holiday so here’s how the last week has looked to us. It is an unusual week in that we had the car for part of it and I had a night away for work reasons thanks to a good friend – my second night off the boat in the past year.

Saturday found us moored in the most delightful spot near the stunning boat Dutch Owl and its shapely rope figurehead Nicole.

Owner Nick made Nicole, but told us the boat she embraces was built for a Crick Boat Show in years gone by. The Boat Index gives no year for the build but suggests that was by M. Sivewright Boatbuilders. Steve cycled to Daventry for his 101st parkrun whilst I did some washing (by hand in the sink) after a pleasant walk with the dog.

In the afternoon we all enjoyed a good circular walk with some spectacular views of harvested fields topped by distant church spires. The walk took in a sleepy village which seemed to provide a chance to try a new-to-us pub midway particularly as the sign over the door seemed such a challenge. It wasn’t to be – pub shut for a wedding! We headed home foraging blackberries for supper with en route.

Sunday was blissful. Steve went for his long run(18 miles today – all heading to London Marathon on October 3rd) whilst I walked the dog, worked and nattered to our new neighbour about his part time PhD. After Steve’s return and shower we walked to the New Inn on the A5 near Norton Junction to meet out eldest daughter for a huge lunch – highly recommend their roasts and in fact their portions of everything are real boatman’s sizes! A walk back to the boat, a cruise through Norton Junction and we moored just past the junction facing the Braunston direction. Steve then left with our daughter to head back to Leicestershire and fetch the car. Cola and I returned with secateurs to trim Katie’s resting place which we had spotted the day before.

Poignant sign for any dog lover to come across

Monday Moved the boat nearer to the tunnel – fast as no locks. Another day working for me. Steve has less work this week so sorted shopping and tackled a laundrette with a mountain of washing. Took a good long walk later in the day after work, over the tunnel to Braunston and back. We used the old road that barge wives and children took the horses along whilst their men legged the boats through in days gone by. You see the brick vent shafts from the tunnel along the way.

Tuesday A day of work for me as well as moving the boat. Only 3 miles, 6¼ furlongs and 6 locks but it included the Braunston Tunnel, 2042 yards long (just over a mile).

Only met two boats coming the other way – neither on the bend in the tunnel. One boat passed us fine, the other was veering about all over the place and bumped us hard. The locks come after the tunnel and we managed to meet up with another boat and share the work going down. Once moored it was haircuts on board for us both (and I trimmed a bit of the dog to help him keep cool). Then back to work for me and Steve arranged for our cratch cover (front canopy if you like) to be reviewed by AJ Canopies who made it originally. That was our reason for coming to Braunston before London. Verdict – we need to do self repairs with the indispensable duck tape (apparently it’s actually duct tape but I think duck is more appropriate on the water) to get us through the winter. Apparently we need a new cratch cover which couldn’t be sorted until May 2022 at the earliest at a cost of – gulp – £1450.00. Think the duck tape will be lasting longer than the winter (and the spring!).

Wednesday – up early, dog and I appreciate the sensational sunrise, slurp coffee, catch up on emails/messages, walk the dog, breakfast, turn the boat to face the right way ready to start up through the locks.

Set the first lock ready. Lady Lorna was ahead of us slowing so we could travel up as a pair – makes life so much easier sharing the work and two boats in wide locks stops them bashing about as the water swirls in the lock. Somehow though another boat nipped in between us so they went through the lock as a pair, and we were left out! I helped them through then emptied the lock to ready it for us. Had to do this for the first three locks and then fortunately we started meeting boats coming down so the next three locks were ready for us to go straight in. The locks near Braunston are a delight too.

Steve then steered us through Braunston Tunnel for the second time this week whilst I worked! Met another boat just on the bend so we both ended up bumping a bit – nothing serious. Once out into the sunshine found a mooring spot on the third attempt – first two we grounded the boat as the places were too shallow. Then work for me for the rest of the day. This way of working enables me to put work in perspective and provides invaluable thinking time whatever I am working on – writing chapters, preparing higher education sessions or writing articles.

Steve walked back to fetch the car which we need this week. He collected orders from Argos and an Amazon box in Daventry before returning to collect a loo cassette for emptying and taking the rubbish too (he really gets the good jobs!). Once back he installed a new wifi aerial while I finished work.

Steve then continued scraping and sanding the gunwhale on the towpath side – you can see what a fab job he made of the other side when we were moored facing the other way.

All was well until he dropped the scraper in the cut! Out with the magnet. Being sandwiched between Armco and the boat it just stuck frustratingly wwll to one or the other. I moved the boat out and hey presto – magnet fishing worked first time!

Thursday Lateral Flow Tests for us both (both negative) and then more work for me and a journey south for us both. Steve and Cola return without me via a quick family visit. Before settling for a bit more work (Higher Education) I headed off for a spot the elephant tour in and around Luton’s beautiful Wardown Park.

I also luxuriated in a bath! What a treat and be grateful I saved you the sight of that!

Friday Energising higher education work for me today – assessment and feedback in Ireland – and thanks to a wasp’s nest Steve gets to spend the day with a special 3 year old. (Preschool is shut for the Wasp Killers to do their worst). When Steve and Cola manage to tear themselves away from the fun, its back south to pick me up after work and a return home. Our journey resumes tomorrow via Milton Keynes, Leighton Buzzard, Tring and all points south to London.

So that was a week on board with us as continuous cruisers – not all work – not all play. Our work and life is balanced, and we includes regular adventures, new sights, scenes and encounters that add huge value to our lives. Personally all this allows me time to plan, think and reflect which improves not only my life but my work too. Thanks to friends, family and clients who have been such an integral part of the week – we couldn’t do what we do without you.

Climbing staircases with a narrowboat

Join us on the stage as bit part actors for the delight of the gongoozlers at Foxton. We ascended this time after the Bank Holiday had whimpered its less than sunny way towards September and the return of the Leicestershire schools, thinking it would be a quiet climb, necessary to get us underway again.

Foxton seems to attract the crowds whatever the weather, whatever the time of year, and whenever you ascend or descend you join the volunteer lock keepers in answering questions, explaining the workings of the locks, answering the inevitable “Do you live on board? (Yes)”, “Isn’t it cold on a boat?”(some have central heating but ours has a stove which often results in us wearing just t shirts inside in the winter), and “Are those your own shoes you’ve planted flowers in?”(some are, and some are fished out of the canals and rivers – recycling and reducing pollution).

The locks start in a pool by the Bridge 61 pub which like all good things in the canal world has multiple purposes – in this case shop, laundrette, pub, restaurant and cafe. On the other side of the water is the Foxton Locks Inn. The locks lead off between the two, and so it was beside the Bridge 61 that we aimed to moor up on Bank Holiday Monday evening ready for the winter hours 10am off the next morning.

To get there from where we had moored on the Market Harborough Arm, we needed to open a small swing bridge and so with the dog alongside, and swinging the key needed for the bridge, I set off whilst Steve followed with the boat. I was almost instantly stopped in my tracks.

The kingfisher sped past me just centimeters above the water, a tiny bright blue rocket contrasting vividly against the waters muddied by moving boats. Suddenly he changed trajectory, veering up to an overhanging hawthorn branch. There he sat for little more than a second or two, the deep orange of his breast feathers set off by the scarlet berries around him. He wasn’t drawing breath but scanning the water beneath and then he plunged vertically down from his perch. He pierced the water like a dart just millimeters from the moss-edged coping stones that frame canal and which would have smashed his tiny frame had there been any impact at that speed. No sooner had my eye adjusted to him sinking into the water that he was out again, a small glistening silvery fish within his dagger-like beak. He flew with his catch to the far side of the water to another hawthorn and by the time he landed I could no longer see the fish.

I realised I was holding my breath, awed by this demonstration of consummate skill and accuracy. I was honoured to watch the precision of that dive. It was worthy of a gold medal and a round of applause at the very least. But I stayed quiet and smiled with glee at one of the most marvellous sights I have been privileged to see.

I was shaking with excitement (and that’s my excuse for the quality of the photos!). We have seen glimpses of kingfishers before on the canals, although fewer this year than previously, but this felt like a performance, laid on just for me.

So thanks to this serendipitous encounter I was gleeful when we moored up that night, ready for the morning ascent. It took off the nerves I was feeling about taking the tiller for the ascent for the first time, and leaving Steve with the physical job of working the locks.

Foxton has 10 locks in all, arranged in two staircases, each of five chambers and in total they enable a narrowboat to climb or drop 75 feet.They are single locks, meaning they can only take one boat at a time – double locks can take two boats up and down side by side. In the middle of the staircases is a circular pound (like a pool) where a boat coming up can pass one coming down if the lock keepers (lockies) advise and permit. From this mid point you can see the Canal Museum, which records and retells the history of this fascinating place in multiple ways with video, reenactments, models and artefacts. From my point of view I learned that coming out of the lock before the pound, crossing the pound and entering the next lock does not require steering a straight line… But to get there we need to climb…and we need to get into the first lock to start…

Join me in some of the first few locks from my perspective at the tiller – looking ahead and looking back.

Historically these narrow locks created a bottleneck for commercial traffic, taking only one boat at a time and so an inclined plane lift was designed and built. It was steam operated and worked by loading two narrowboats or one barge at a time into a counterbalanced tank or caisson. Those going down would then pull the counterparts up the 1:4 gradient. The lift though was closed at night so for the 24 hour operators campaigned for the locks to reopen. The locks reopening, combined with mechanical issues with the inclined plane (the rails kept giving way under the weight), as well as the significant cost of manning and repairing and operating the lift meant it closed in November 1910, after just a decade of operation. Now only the locks remain as the way up.. or down. They each have their own character but each also has its own identity, sometimes well hidden beneath the slime…

You’re getting the picture of what it looks to navigate them so I won’t take up up all10! The staircase means each lock opens straight into the next, taking the boat up (or down) in giant watery steps.

Despite the fact that we waited for 5 boats to come down, and the one in front of us to set off before the most rapid ascent of Foxton we’ve ever made – 45 minutes from lock 1 to lock 10. That’s despite the bottom scraping on something metallic between gates 15 and 15 . I’m sure our rapid progress was down in part to the heroic efforts of Richard, a small boy not yet at school who you can see in a red jacket.

Under adult supervision and the watchful eye of Preaux’s crew as well as a lockie or two or three, this small gongoozler ‘helped’ with the lock gates and the winding of the windlass to operate each lock in the two staircases. Various other actors took bit parts as gate pushers, advisers (volunteer lock keepers were the informed ones, others sometimes not), and general hangers on.

We got to the top to find Mark and his commercial coal boat Callisto who had just a few bags of coal left, so we are now stocked up for the start of winter. We refilled the water, refuelled ourselves at the whitewashed cafe at the summit, and then watched in astonishment as three fishermen caught a 5lb Koi carp in the pound at the top of the locks. It surprised them as much as they surprised it! It had obviously been a big fish in a small pond at some point and been dumped in the canal, where it obviously flourished.

Then we took time to reflect on another safe passage and another 24 hours of momentous firsts.

Mouse on board!

In mid August on a balmy morning walk with the dog, a small person (aged 3) picked up a number of pink granite stones from a path.

The stones are quarried nearby to where we were then moored and where we used to live, in the pleasant riverside Leicestershire village of Mountsorrel. We used the 12.30 quarry blast every weekday as our lunchtime indicator. At the start of the first lockdown the regular rumbling blast caused severe concerns among those normal commuters who had never been at home on a weekday. Local police even had to allay concerns of a regular 12.30 terrorist blast or a plane crash!

The quarry is a place of fascination for small person

We are now currently moored near Market Harborough which is coincidentally of historic commercial significance to Mountsorrel. In 1758 Mountsorrel’s quarry won the contract from the Harborough to Loughborough Turnpike road company to surface all the roads in the area – a massive undertaking. The first quarry in the village was on the hill where we lived. The granite from Mountsorrel formed the cobblestone setts, kerbs and chippings that in turn created roads that revolutionised transport and business as well as catapulting the small quarry into the huge commercial enterprise it is today. It also led to development of the River Soar and the Grand Union Canal as carrying granite by barge proved much more economical.

Back then to the little piece of Mountsorrel’s distinctive pink granite which was firmly clutched in a small sweaty hand, and carried across the fields that run alongside the Soar to Sileby. The stone was a gift from the small person to Angel, the inspirational boat dweller and sculptor who works and lives from Sileby Island. The stone and two others entrusted to my pocket were intended for a peace cairn she is planning. They discussed the stones as they were handed over and agreed one looked like….you’ve guessed it, a mouse.

Later that day we returned home to find Harry (as small person named him) brought to life by Angel’s vision and skill. From his delicate ears to his luxuriously curving tail, he is exquisitely subtle in shape and creation.

…stones leaped to form, and rocks began to live.
Alexander Pope discussing the power of sculpture and other art forms in “The Works: Including Several Hundred Unpublished Letters, and Other New Materials” 1871.

Harry was patiently waiting for us by the tiller, safely ensconsed in the curve of the stern ropes. He’s joined us living aboard and we are documenting his adventures for small person’s delight (as well as ours). So today – meet Harry and experience our world through his eyes.

From the swirling waters of the canalised Soar with its weirs and waterfalls to the calm of the canals, Harry has begun to make his way to London, probably not to see the Queen or hide under her chair, but certainly to experience the London Marathon and see the sights.

His first destination en route was one of the oldest cities in England, Leicester. He braved Castle Gardens avoiding the dangers of the rat traps, and by only emerging from the boat accompanied, stayed safe from the glittery-eyed cats that stalk the gardens at night.

From Leicester he journeyed through locks and ran the risks of running aground in low waters to reach safe moorings at Kilby Bridge and then to Saddington. For security he travels firmly attached by bluetack (like most precious things on this boat!). Like most most he can’t always be easily seen!

Our little murine friend has since seen to playgrounds, been introduced to statuesque nobility, and we even smuggled him on board the highly recommended and absolutely delicious floating cafe Boat Street at Mercia Marina – don’t tell the authorities!

He has come with us into the very heart of Market Harborough, the town which brought about the revival of the inland waterways for leisure use (and where Steve ran his 100th parkrun last weekend!) Originally the canal was going to link Market Harborough to Northampton but as ever, funds ran out, and the Market Harborough Arm stopped abruptly at just 5.4 miles in 1809. It runs from Foxton Locks to the market town’s Union Wharf, without a single lock along its length, but with two swing bridges, one by Foxton Locks and one in Foxton village.

In 1950 Union Wharf was the site of the Inland Waterways Association‘s first boat rally, Festival of Boats. It must have been an amazing site with over 100 boats gathering to showcase the canals, and the boats as a fantastic leisure option. The charity is still vibrant today, campaigning for the waterways, supporting development and protecting the existing network.

The IWA was formed by people with vision, people who could see the need to create a new purpose for our inland waterways, people who could see opportunities. That insight and perspective is something which has enhanced our own lives afloat, just as the insight and vision of our artist friend has changed our perspective. All of us now, young and old have a changed view of the world around us. We see differently, view stones and trees, driftwood and rocks with new eyes – see possibilities where once we would have seen nothing. As Henry Moore the famed Yorkshire sculptor once said:

Painting and sculpture help other people to see what a wonderful world we live in.
Henry Moore

This humble, beautiful little mouse is giving us a new view of the life we are leading, a chance to look for the hidden, the often overlooked, and it is a delight. It’s fun looking for and through the mouse eye view at the world around us, and sharing that with our small person remotely. It helps keep us in touch and connected in a new way.

As we all head back to school, to work, to pick up lives so interrupted as much as we can, it can do us good to change our perspectives, to see our world and our work our lives and eyes of others. Step back, step forward, look differently.

The way I view the world now is very different to the way I viewed it some years ago, we have moved away from the material by living afloat, and stepping back from slavishly working. Alexander Pope knew a thing or two centuries ago which we have only just discovered:

“When we are young, we are slavishly employed in procuring something whereby we may live comfortably when we grow old; and when we are old, we perceive it is too late to live as we proposed.“

I am grateful every day, dozens of times a day in fact, to have discovered this truth and to have taken action to live life to the full as a result. Now I have the additional delight of this cleverly wrought scrap of pink granite which warms in my hand as I walk around with him, is helping us see things differently. Harry inspires us to view our new world differently and also constantly connects us to the past. Through the skill and artistry of an amazing sculptor he has brought us a new lens to the past, present and future.

Angel working on a rather larger commission

There is one wee downside to this new perspective on life – a certain small person is avidly collecting stones on every walk and exclaiming look I can see a squirrel or a crocodile or a dinosaur with each, and each (of course) has to be kept! Hopefully we can find them new homes before we sink our boat with their weight…

Sharing enriches and reinforces life

For so much of the past year we’ve been unable to share our lives, our experiences with others in person. It’s one thing to write about life and work afloat, another to experience it. This week we’ve been in the company of three groups of delightful people – learning from them, sharing with them how we live and cruise the waterways, seeing our life through their eyes, whilst enjoying their company.

Our first city centre overnight was at a gated mooring in the centre of Leicester. Castle Gardens is a beautiful spot. Gates lead straight from the pontoon into the heart of the garden, complete at the moment with a decorated rocket.

After 8pm when the gardens shut it’s like a private park just for boaters. You can get in and out with a Waterways key if you want to go pubbing/clubbing, but remember to read the sign before you leave the mooring which says which of the 3 locks on which gate gets you back in! If not it might be the Holiday Inn for you, or a less than dignified climb!

With the CRT workboat taking up a good chunk of space there was only room for 3 of us: Evening Standard, Paddington Bear and ourselves.

It’s a surprisingly peaceful mooring, understandably popular with swans, pigeons and rowers situated as it is on the mile straight for Leicester City Rowing Club.

The moorings are overseen by the gargoyles of West Bridge – thought to be characters from The Canterbury Tales, whose author Chaucer, was married at the nearby St Mary de Castro Church. Do you reckon that’s the Prioress or the Wife of Bath? I’d love to know how many others you identified!

We left the moorings in the company of Paddington Bear (from Peru), accompanied on his travels by Nic and Scott.

From Leicester we moved out past the Foxes’ King Power stadium and then 4 double locks took us to Kings’s Lock where the Soar and the Grand Union Canal part company if heading south, or unite when you’re heading north. The Soar is a beautiful river and regularly used for Sikh and Hindu funeral rites, like the Ganges. A Hindu priest has anointed the Soar with water from the Ganges. Ashes scattered on these waters will eventually reach the sea, wending their way accompanied by flowers, holy leaves and coconuts. This time we saw only coconuts bobbing along.

For us the move from the river to the canal is significant – it means whatever the weather brings we are away from the possibility of being delayed by flooding. The canal levels are managed, but still seemed low. By the pound before Kilby Bridge some 8 locks further on, Nic and I were bringing the boats in single file down a narrow channel of muddy water in the centre with silt and rocks visible on both sides. This pound has a reputation for leaking badly and boaters who know try to get through the Kilby Lock for protection before mooring at the visitor moorings opposite the services and handily by The Navigation Pub.

Having Scott and Steve on the locks and Nic and I at the tillers made for a rapid and sociable journey (albeit more bumps to our boat than Steve would have made her suffer). The miles and the locks flew by as did the drizzle and rain, and we made it to the pub together to enjoy a well earned drink…or two.

Sunday saw some boats further down towards Leicester aground, and CRT were actively out managing water levels. The day saw us tackling the next 6 miles, 12 locks and a tunnel (Saddington – 881 yards plus Daubenton’s bats) in the company of friends Emma and Wayne, no strangers to nb Preaux. Such fun was had by all that I took absolutely no usable photographs at all, and need them back to repeat the exercise when I am armed with a camera. How did I not get them mastering the tiller, sorting locks with ease and enjoying the delights of the life we are so glad to lead? Just the same way I didn’t manage to capture for you the heron catching a very large breakfast fish this week…

I did however manage a shot of some of the goodies Emma and Wayne brought: gin plus light for when the gin’s gone, making the bottle dual purpose, the bottle’s contents already being dual purpose for thirst quenching and delight. I also took a shot of the usefully labelled Smeeton Road Bridge which directed us to… yes, you’ve guessed it, a very nice pub, albeit up a VERY steep hill!

We were just thinking that was that for sociability when another former colleague and running friend plus his family came to see us for an evening cruise. Safe to say our wonderful lifestyle and the closeness to nature had his boys enamoured – they appreciated challenging yourself to try new things, having adventures, pushing bridges and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone as well as just revelling in the wildlife around. It was a delight to spent time with them and uplifting to see their excitement mirror our own at how fabulous this life is.

Later in the week we risked the afternoon rush hour down to Market Harborough to find some very quiet and calm moorings near the town from which Steve will run his 100th parkrun today (Saturday).

Another unexpectedly delightful evening visit followed with visitors who really flummoxed us (thanks Charles and Chloe) by asking “What creature comforts have you missed in this year afloat?”

We struggled at the time to answer honestly, and after wracking our brains for 48 hours we are still none the wiser. Yes it would be nice to have an easy solution to the washing conundrum, but we’re getting by and we really can’t think of any creature comforts we are missing or have missed.

And just for good measure – the unexpected pluses have been immense. Here’s a kestrel I delighted in watching in a grass field for hours one day this week. Determination paid off but he/she had to stalk, hover and dive 6 times before getting a meal.

Living 24/7 amid nature; feeling totally aware of the seasons; experiencing the calming slowness of gentle cruising through reed edged waters; hearing the wind rustling in the trees above us; finding a mooring that feels in the middle of nowhere with no streetlights, but owls, moorhens and ducks for company; and being able to share this with friends and family – all are joys I hadn’t expected but which delight me.

As for those creature comforts we’re missing? We’re still trying to find an answer to that one!

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!

Life and Death and Tiller Itch

Tiller itch was something I first heard from Robbie Cummings and I agree with him – it sounds revolting! (If you want to know what life is really like living on a cruising narrowboat Robbie Cummings’ Canal Boat Diaries are a MUST).

It has been a month now since we arrived in Leicestershire and we’ve not travelled far whilst enjoying caring duties. It has been a wonderful opportunity, spending precious time with family and so many friends, but it does mean that we’ve been pretty static for what feels like a long time (lockdowns apart). As a result I can assure you that tiller itch is a genuine phenomenon and one I am certainly experiencing.

To alleviate the irritant I have been watching the wildlife around us which is becoming less timid as they become more used to us. I’ve also begun planning our next trip which we start later this week. We need to head from Leicestershire to visitor moorings at Little Venice because Steve is running the London Marathon in aid of the charity Victa on October 3rd. If you can support him he’s just under £100 short of his goal of £1,700. Thank you in advance – together I know we can get him there for a fantastic, small but much needed charity.

Running the London Marathon virtually from the boat last year.

To get to London from our current mooring is a journey of 146 miles and 1 furlong – mustn’t forget the furlong! -132 locks, 2 moveable bridges and 4 tunnels amounting to 3 miles 6 furlongs under ground. It will take us through Leicestershire, Northamptonshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire, and Greater London. We will take in once more the spectacular Foxton Staircase Locks – 10 locks with a rise of 75ft in two staircases of five a piece.

Looking back down Foxton Locks – amazing views of Leicestershire laid out in front of you.

We will be taking it gradually – we have work to do and aim to meet more friends en route, floating and house dwellers alike. We will also be building time to sit and watch nature en route because doing so brings so much richness to our lives. From flora to fauna – there is so much to see, with so many individual stories to watch unfurling. Thistles turning from green spiky balls into proud purple maces and then into feather-light thistledown make fascinating viewing.

Seeing the birds especially so closely, living alongside them, and recognising how they generously accommodate us in their environment, growing increasingly confident with us as we and our boat become familiar parts of their world has been a delight. It’s also been an eye opener. Watching them carefully every day brings insight into their routines, their foibles and downright miserably hard times.

The past few weeks have brought ducks, herons and a stunning young green woodpecker to enliven our days, and a noisy owl to keep us entertained on hot sleepless nights. The ducks have included a mallard mum with ducklings. Before we arrived she apparently hatched 10 young. She’s now down to 2 but nurturing them as fiercely as possible. It’s hard to know exactly what predators have reduced her brood – on this stretch there are mink, rats, stoats, foxes and weasels, in the water pike and flying around are herons, owls and birds of prey like red kite and maybe even merlin. For any of these a small duckling can be an easy meal. As they grow they are less vulnerable and they are growing daily, voraciously gobbling down the duck food pellets from us which they love as well as foraging for their own food finds. It’s important too to build up mum’s strength to help her protect them if needs be.

The green woodpecker, my much prized visitor, is also a youngster. He’s been a treat to watch with his undulating flight round a set circuit among the willows and hawthorn trees behind the towpath. It is as if he’s testing himself, seeing how fast he can fly the circuit he’s developed, from the willow by the steep frothing weir across the marsh to the old dead tree on the far side from our boat. Sometimes he pauses there but more often he just passes it, carrying on over another stretch of marsh to a willow, round to a hawthorn in the hedge and back to his starting point. He repeats this lap several times loudly congratulating himself each time. After all this exertion he drops to the river bank and gorges on his favourite food – ants, ants and more ants.

At the moment there is another boat moored in front of us, but before it arrived we were on our own moored between two weirs. The young woodpecker would then wander along the big stones at the top of the river wall right by our mooring rope snacking as he strolled casually near us.

In the early mornings a heron keeps watch over everything on this stretch of the Soar from the vantage point of a pipe bridge. His routine never varies – and his breakfast seems to consist of frogs of which there are plenty around here. Walking back to the boat in the gathering gloom the other night we were struggling to walk without stepping on tiny little browny-green frogs, no bigger than my thumbnail.

Watching wildlife so close up is not only a privilege but accessible to most of us, we don’t need gardens to do it as any open space will do. Canal towpaths are particularly good for bringing us rapidly into the natural world.

Young heron reflected in the stillness of a tributary

Birds particularly are magical – watching their apparently carefree lives as they soar through the skies. We can envy their freedom and ease of movement. Watch a little longer and you may understand the purpose of that flight. Is it training to strengthen muscles, a recce to check out food sources or flight as in escape from a predator? Insight gives us more enjoyment in understanding and watching these amazing creatures with whom we share the world. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons that David Attenborough’s nature programmes have such huge following – through the skill of inspired and informed camera work and knowledgeable commentary they give us ringside seats for the drama of daily life for birds, insects and animals. These creatures’ battles for survival put our own struggles into perspective. However tough our lives these little neighbours have it harder. Every day is full of life or death drama. That’s why some Covid bird projects like this one from Leicestershire have enthralled millions of us.

Whatever our own struggles and difficulties, trials and tribulations, seeing how others cope can be inspirational. It doesn’t matter how many legs they have, whether dressed in feathers or fur, we can gain,from their resilience, routine and determination. They have the capacity to make us realise how fortunate we are, how we are not alone In our struggles, and at the same time make us smile or laugh out loud with their antics.

I do think they’re making me a better person too, and have the capacity to do that for all of us. When you know those little ducklings you’ve watched grow, are going to swim and feed on anything you flush down the drain it makes you more thoughtful, and more careful. In this, and,many other ways, they make us care more deeply for the planet we share with them – and make us to feel better about ourselves for doing so.

Next time I’m down in the dumps, frustrated or grumpy (or if you are too) I just know the antidote – a spot of bird, animal or insect watching – I highly recommend it!

It’s the little things…

It’s the little things that make a difference to life I now understand. Being moored up on our ‘holidays’ seeing friends and family we are constantly being asked if we still like living afloat, and what we like about it. I’m sure it’s something every continuous cruiser has been asked, and I am equally sure there are as many replies as there are individuals!

the unexpected is always a delight – like four working coal boats from Jules Fuels approaching the locks together

I find these questions incredibly hard to answer satisfactorily because there are so many delights that we can easily bore people to death…and also each waterway, river or canal is different.

Here for starters are our top 10, some of which may chime with those taking holidays afloat, as well as those who live permanently as continuous cruisers. Some are also delights which don’t need a boat, so it’s about ensuring a floating mindset, relaxed, taking time to be aware and appreciate what’s around you. I’m also aware that whilst most are almost impossible for me to capture with a camera, my mind and memory are crammed with moments such as these. They aren’t numbered because I don’t want them to take on 1st, 2nd type places in importance – they are all equally important at different times.

picking up ducks (and ducklings) remains a daily delight

Feeling not just close to, but part of nature with 360 degree immersion – moored and cruising (we do tend to not want too much immersion living afloat although in the hot weather it can be a real boon to be on a river!)
Doing the washing up whilst moored on the river and watching the tiny fish weaving in and out of the weeds just in front of me – does nothing for the cleanliness of the plates but is both relaxing and utterly absorbing.

Feeling the gentle rocking of the boat when you or someone aboard moves, or another boat passes – moored and cruising.
Incredible sunsets and breathtaking sunrises magnified by the water. Hints of the power of light and water happen all through the day with shifting reflections portrayed against the wood inside the boat.

Lying in bed listening to the birds calling or the rain on the roof – pattering or hammering. Being so close to the elements, with just a metal skin between us but being safe and dry. It’s something many campers also experience – there’s something special in knowing it’s not for a week or a fortnight but for as long as we can. There’s also something relaxing about watching the rain in the day too, as long as you’re moored up in the warm and dry!

Learning every day from observation and experience about the world around us – from birds and animals to plants and weather prediction – moored and cruising. This week I’ve learned about the feeding and flying patterns of a juvenile green woodpecker living alongside us in the wood. His flight patterns trace waves between the trees as he makes his circuits at ever increasing speeds before dropping to the towpath to gorge on ants before heading off once more. I’ve watched a red kite soaring over the newly cut fields and in contrast seen a miniature merlin perched cautiously nearby.

‘Our’ green woodpecker in flight – thanks Freya!

Even on stretches of river or canal you think you know well, being surprised and delighted by the unexpected – the flash of a turquoise blue kingfisher, statuesque patience of a heron, watching a streamlined stoat swimming in front of the boat, catching the sudden powerful scent of honeysuckle in an overhanging hedge or being tickled by the caress of overhanging willows.

zooming in on a heron we spotted perched on a pipe bridge

Exploring new walks and meeting new people every day. This is a delight particularly for us and Cola dog too.
Taking time to stop and watch birds, trees moving in the wind; seeing the banded demoiselles landing on ropes and flotsam, taking time to watch the range of plants, birds and fish that move in and across the water without feeling guilty – recognising this is a key part of the experience of living afloat.

Consciously living slowly – to allow moments that need savouring to be savoured and appreciated, and not to be missed.

Some of these don’t need a boat to experience them. Some I know I had the capacity to enjoy when we weren’t living afloat, and equally I know I didn’t experience them in the same way as I do now. Changed values and priorities are liberating and add time for new opportunities to each day.

I think it is that moving more slowly, in a more considered way and downshifting so we work to live not live to work, means I take time to appreciate them, and allow myself more time to enjoy my days. It’s also hugely rewarding to share some of the enjoyment we get from living on board with family and friends. The questions arising from friends are invaluably thought-provoking…

Do you miss the daily routine of work? No – I find my days too full to miss it. The work I do now is work I choose to do and so focus on, and enjoy it fully.

How do you fill your days? With wonder, adventures and routine tasks which once I would have left to energy-using machines like a dishwasher, washing machine and tumble drier. We do still spent quite a lot of our time trying to work out an effective, efficient way of washing and drying clothes – it’s the one thing we haven’t cracked yet! I am currently falling over two large wooden rolling pins which I have brought onboard with the intention of harnessing them as a manual mangle…heaven knows how but it’s keeping me entertained whilst I try to work it out. If anyone has any ideas – do let me know1

Are you bored? No – we don’t have time to be bored.

What’s your favourite season? Each has its own character, but I love the winter with its challenges and rewards. When stepping down into a stove-heated boat from the bitter cold or lashing rain is a comforting warm embrace; when soups or stews can bubble on the stove all day, filling the boat with rich spicy, herby aromas as well as filling us with warming flavoursome food.

When will you stop living on the boat? We never know what might happen but hopefully not in the near future.

Distilling life afloat is hard and different for everyone, but for us, it comes down to two things – a constant but gentle pace of change which comes from being on the water, and choice. Living afloat has given us both.

Losing my cool and blame me!

Staying chilled in a metal box isn’t easy, and that’s basically what our steel narrowboat is. Here in Leicestershire, where we’re bobbing about on the River Soar, temperatures are exceeding those currently in Mexico and the Canary Islands – according to my irrefutable source, the Leicester Mercury.

Normally on a river in conditions like these, boaters moor in the shade on a leafy bank, but not us – oh no – we are moored day after day in the blazing sun alongside hardstanding with not a tree on our side of the river. (Having said this – I predict the sun will stop and the rain will start – so those who enjoy being toasted can blame me for the change!)

There is “reason” for our apparent madness, and advantage too. We are on holiday, seeing friends and family, and this is the closest spot to many of them (somehow for the first fortnight we’ve also ended up right next door to a pub with another very excellent pub just up the river by the weir). Hardstanding has been invaluable whilst we were sharing time with a 3-year old, making it much safer getting on and off the boat.

Higher up the river we need to use gangplanks for dog, child and us, and it all becomes a wee bit more complicated. Hardstanding has also been good whilst it’s been cool enough to paint and sand, sand and paint. Jobs done early in the morning before the sun turns the boat to red-hot oven temperatures that dry the paint as it leaves the tin, long before it even meets the steel (also before the scorching hardstanding singes whatever part of your anatomy touches it as you paint).

The roofgarden is cooking from underneath and above, but keeping it cool is nigh impossible. The tomatoes, chillis and marigolds are thriving but everything else is distraught. The marigolds do a great job of keeping the bugs at bay on the boat.

Unfortunately the dog can’t swim from the boat because we can’t get him easily back on board given his age and our height above the waterline, so I walk him into the field for his regular daily swims. I shall consider taking a marigold with me as I am being attacked by beasties rising from the grass and eating me alive!

A donated fan (thanks Jonny), is keeping the hot air circulating through the boat whilst we aren’t cruising, but it’s had us in hysterics. They say things can get lost in translation – but sometimes as you can see, a translation adds such value!

We are taking another plunge in this heat and disposing of everything that a year ago we considered vital to keep and which has been in store. If something on the boat hasn’t been used in the past year it’s off – that’s been easy. What has been tough work – emotional and physical – has been sorting the stuff we put in store a year ago. Most of the items we kept were hugely personal, Mother’s and Father’s Day cards from the children, programmes from every performance they had done, school reports, even baby clothes. We had carefully stored them for decades but after a year they aren’t wanted by the next generation, and we haven’t missed them so – whoosh off they go, box after box. As much as possible has gone to charity shops so others can benefit, but two loads went to the tip. We borrowed a car to do this and have halved what we have in store. I also disposed of all my ‘work gear’ through Vinted liberating enough to buy a new chimney, so the boat is sporting a new look instead of me!

Perhaps next year we’ll come back and have the courage to get rid and move the rather paltry remainder still in store.

It seems appropriate that we are casting off the past this week when so many are talking of Freedom Day and casting off the constraints of lockdown. We know of many who have lost their lives, or had their family life changed forever by Covid. We have been hugely fortunate because this destructive virus hasn’t meant restriction or destruction for us, but freedom. It gave us the push to make changes to the ways we work and live to try to live more freely and more ethically, and as a result we are happier too. For me it isn’t dramatic to say that I realised how much I gain being with Steve 24/7 (I think he’ll concur…but I’ll just check that….). It seemed, in a small way as it may have done to our parents in wartime, that life was very precious and we saw it being snatched away from people through no fault of their own. We wanted to make the most of our time, and for us that was about doing something we’d been talking of as “wouldn’t it be wonderful to…. and if only” for years…living aboard and continuously cruising.

What is freedom to one person isn’t the same to another and many who have caught a glimpse of our lives (now prioritised by 4 daily ws – waste, water, walking and wherewithal for food) have recoiled in horror. For us though it is working right now, and in a very small and humble way we are doing our best to live as Nelson Mandela said:

…to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.

To respect the freedom from illness and to respect the health of others I will continue to wear a mask in enclosed public spaces. We want others to have the chance to enjoy life daily as we are able to do untrammelled by illness or loss. We all deserve to seize what life can offer us if we can.

It is good to be back where we used to live – albeit temporarily – ‘on holiday’. It feels a bit strange, viewing somewhere so familiar through new eyes. It is good to know as this blog goes out we’ll be getting ready to volunteer and run what was our local parkrun at Dishley, Loughborough. We were on the original planning and launch team so it’s fitting we are back as parkruns restart after the pandemic. I will volunteer marshall with Cola on duty alongside me, while Steve will do car parking and then run. As we brought the boat through a lock this morning we were greeted with glee by a parkrunning family whose youngest son will be doing his first parkrun tomorrow – I will cheer him as loudly as I cheer everyone. The restart of parkrun after the pandemic also heralds a change for us in our lives as contiuous cruisers. We’ll be looking for the nearest moorings to parkruns on a Saturday morning on our routes round the country! Wonder how many we can do from a narrowboat?

We also came back to take part as volunteers in our village annual community event, but Covid has struck some of the major sponsors and so sadly it won’t be happening this year. It is good to be here to commiserate in person with those who have spent the past 2 years working so hard to make the event happen. Their fantastic work was dashed by the pandemic last year, and we were all so hopeful for 2021, and now to be blocked yet again is devastating.

For us it’s a minor let down, but we feel their disappointment, and are incredibly sorry for them. As we’ve found in many pandemic-related situations, we are one stage removed. We are detached by the nature of how we now live, our lives and priorities are structured differently. Making sure we have water in the tank and at least one empty loo cartridge are after all, our the main priorities – everything after that is a bonus!

We’ve spent a lot of hugely enjoyable time on land this past fortnight, had some lovely meals out, been strawberry picking and enjoyed quality time with friends and family.

We’ve slept every night on the boat, but I have missed the constant, all day, calming, relaxing movement of the boat on the water. We moved yesterday after the maximum 14-days in one place, so my ’tiller itch’ (it which really is a phenomenon) is relieved. We haven’t gone far, but it’s true that the most amazing views can be just round the corner when you live afloat. There’s much to be thankful for in this world with its many freedoms. It’s good to be back moored without streetlights. It’s good to be back bobbing gently. It’s good to be moored by a weir and there’s a good breeze coming into the boat, so as our wonderful 3 year-old grandson might say, we’re ‘cool dudes’ once more!

P.S. Steve says ‘Yes’ – life’s better for him too even if being with me 24/7 on a 50ft boat!

It’s down to us all

We had a delegation from the future on board nb (narroboat) Preaux this past week and I am proud to believe they left impressed – apart from one who was aghast at how we could live without a 96 inch TV on board, even though I have no idea if one would even fit!

I am also… relieved would be the most honest word… to say that I counted them all on and I counted them all off and not one was left lurking on board after the official departure time!

It’s also a relief (if I am still being honest) to say that I managed not to let any fall overboard (as if I would have been allowed by their eagle-eyes, efficient minders), despite needing to make them walk the plank!

I’m also pretty glad that the iPad that I so carefully stashed under the bedcovers as a safe hiding place survived the collective bouncing as one by one the delegates tried out the springiness of the mattress – not something I had considered prior to their visit, but a test for our comfort that turned out to be hugely important to each and every one!

They were all, without exception, interested, curious and open minded. They were polite and delightful. They ranged from about 3ft high and 2 years old to the senior fraternity of nearly 5 and a lot bigger, about to join Big School in September.

Unprompted they asked sensible questions like how we powered the lights, nodding sagely when we talked of solar and one enquired why we didn’t have a wind turbine; were astonished by the operation of a lock though somewhat disappointed that a boat going down in a lock wasn’t sinking…

They were horrified when we talked of plastic fishing and showed how much we drag out with our net when just cruising along. It’s something which should concern us all and part of a current Canal and River Trust CRT campaign. The children rightly pointed out how bad rubbish in the canals would be for the creatures who rely on the water. They asked if we had a paddle board to get to the edges of the river and looked sceptical when we said we’d love one but it was too costly for us… What cost the future of the environment they questioned?

They watched with fascination as swans and cygnets came fearlessly up to the boat to be fed (Mr Johnson’s Wildlife Swan and Duck food), saw moorhens and mallards gather hopefully in the background and expressed concern that the sizeable swans might bully the smaller birds. Bullying was abhorrent to them and they were loudly adamant that it was wrong.

Seeing our floating world through their eyes was a delight. They were gleeful at being so close to wildlife, appreciated the gentle movement of the river flowing past outside, spotting the tiny fish weaving in and out of the waving weed and left envious of the unique nature of our life.

They were caring, compassionate and considerate, open minded, and curious without being judgmental.

They gave me hope for the future, that they would become educated, informed leaders, positive contributors to society and supporters of sound values. I feel sure every one of the audience at Wembley on Sunday night was the same at that early age. What happened to change that and how do we stop that happening again?

Members of this England team have shown in their daily lives remarkable compassion; a drive to educate our leaders and support those in need; they have used their position to stamp out racism and bigotry and yet faced appalling, shameful and totally unnecessary attacks.

Boat dwellers have faced bigotry and attacks too. This cruiser was deliberately set alight. Some of its owners possessions were saved but faced further destruction from the weather, with nowhere to put them once his home was gone.

No child is born bigoted or biased. We need to ask how and where such behaviour is learned, and ensure, each one of us, that we are active in stopping it spreading to destroy the next generation.

The Nigerian proverb ‘Oran a azu nwa’ says “It takes a village to raise a child.” It is so right. Every one has a role to play in role modelling, and supporting parents, teachers, educators at all levels, children and adults to nurture our remarkable environment and all who live within it.

We all have a part to play in shaping the next generation to maintain an open-minded, fair and considered approach to life and the environment. It follows that a village or community has to bear the responsibility for developing racist, bigoted, fearful and narrow minded perspectives in those who will be our future. It’s not just down to parents and teachers, uncles, aunts, grandparents and relations but to every single one of us to strive to be exemplary, positive role models teaching by example, and ensuring every child, and adult has equal opportunities to try, to achieve, to be supported and to know that we believe in them and their talents.

Etienne de Grellet du Mabillier was born in Limoges, in 1773. He became a refugee, fleeing the French Revolution and devoted his life to tackling social problems of inequality and unfairness, developing opportunities for fair education, creating humane conditions in prisons and hospitals, and providing for the poor. Many will know his words, but how many of us live by them?

I shall pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.
Stephen Grellet aka Etienne de Grellet du Mabillier

In other words – in a world where we can be anything – let us be kind. Better still, in a world where we can be anything – let’s work actively and support others to make our society a fair place.

Encouragement, belief and compassion build resilient individuals. If we know we are supported, it makes us unafraid to try and fail, and try again.

If we all demonstrated and delivered these goals, would we need to invest so much time, money and energy to developing wellbeing and mental health support?

Might we all feel happier because we know we have a role to play with others, a role to play to support others, and knowing that our contribution makes a difference?

How about that at the end of each day we make sure we each have a positive response to the best question ever from the fabulous Heather Small? What have you done today to make you feel proud?

I am proud we have been able to introduce some wonderful young people to the delights of the rivers and canals. I may also owe an apology to all those parents of our delightful visitors who have been plagued this week with requests to abandon their lovely homes and large TVs to go and live on a boat!

P.S. I do of course highly recommend boatlife – its benefits are numerous!

20 tips to make the most of any holiday – afloat or even ashore

Top 20 tips drawn from hard experience – ours and others – here to help you have a fab holiday.

Packing – whatever you think you need in terms of luggage – halve it!
If you think the old waterproofs from the back of the hall cupboard will be fine, put them on and stand under the shower for 20 minutes. Buy new ones.

Take time to smile and say hello to everyone you meet – on the waterways we’re a sociable bunch.
Don’t hesitate to take the chance to try new things/foods/experiences, and ask/take help or advice to make the most of it.
Remember that boating particularly is a team sport – let all adults particularly have a go at everything. Share – don’t hog the tiller or force some poor soul to stand out there for hours. What’s the worst that can happen at 3 or 4mph?

Oops – this is not me barging someone off the canal but heading to the next lock to let water down to rescue them after they became grounded on a shallow canal – probably one of the most irritating things that can happen at 4mph!

Do be aware of the Marmite factor – with boats, tents, caravans, chalets etc. the swingometer goes from “We need to buy a boat, tent, caravan, chalet” to “Never again.” The former can change your life as we know well!
Enjoyment and exploring is never time wasting. Don’t miss hidden delights because you’re rushing on. These discoveries are the memories you’ll keep.
Invest a moment to determine which move of the throttle is forward and which reverse is time well spent (narrowboats, cruisers, speedboats etc.)
Do be aware the perfect manoeuvre or fluent stand up on a paddle board will rarely, or never be witnessed.

Do be aware your Suez moment, capsize or crash will always have an audience – they materialise out of nowhere just when you’re wishing them on the other side of the plant!
Do remember that stopping a 15+ ton metal boat moving inextricably in the direction you don’t want it to go does happen – worth being aware of this if you are in a kayak canoe, paddle board or floating unicorn approaching said boat…reverse can help everyone in such a situation.

Switch off – you all need a break. If you have a smart phone disable your emails – you win pity not prizes for being a workaholic. Use your phone as a camera to capture those moments which will help your holiday last for years to come. If you want to, harness the bird spotting, tree and plant identification apps available and come back having learned new things.
Use all your senses – smell the honeysuckle and wild roses, hear the birdsong, feel the touch of the wind/sun/rain on your face (sometimes all three in a day knowing the British weather!), really look around you and see the sights and beauty that surrounds you, taste the local delicacies, beers and specialities of the area.

Slow down – we miss things if we go too fast. Take time, make time to go to local events and floating markets. You never know who you’ll meet!

Talk more to those around you but also take time to enjoy quiet and peaceful times too, with others or by yourself.
Take turns – If you’re travelling as a family everyone, (whatever their age) can be responsible for one evening meal. This may be borrowing money for the chip shop, cooking from scratch, bbq-ing, or sourcing a take away!
Play – take board games – it’s a great way of having fun if the sun is wet… Family favourites and a new one or two is a great combination.

Always respect the water – particularly at locks. Water and strong currents can be deadly. Lifejackets are essential for little ones.

Make sure you use the time you have to savour precious time together – remember when we couldn’t?
Relax, have fun, and make some fantastic memories. The last 18 months have been tough – make this a holiday to remember for the right reasons – spending time enjoying yourself, solo or with others.

Happy holidays – however you’re enjoying the water the Waterways Code may help to make it even better.

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