Education, inspiration and pure entertainment – it’s all in a name

The names we bestow upon inanimate objects tell us so much – generally about ourselves – our identity, personality, sense of humour (or lack of it). Onomastics or onomatology, the study of names, absorbs some people for years. Looking at narrowboat names I can understand why – they offer up a entire world of education, history, reality and imagination.

Some boats tell of their owners’ situation like the humorous Old Age Traveller, or geographic origins Ay up mi Duck which anyone from Nottingham will recognise, Tui and Rangitikei from New Zealand, and Francophiles might identify our own narrowboat’s name Preaux. Named after the French village where we lived and where our daughters were born, the word also aptly means a playground.

There’s a hidden education available on offer in linguistics too. If you didn’t learn Latin at school – take to the cut with a curious mind and you’ll soon learn…

There are at least 76 boats out there called Carpe Diem (Seize the Day), probably one for every marina in England. Strangely there’s only one river cruiser licensed as Carpe Vinum (Seize the Wine). Personally I wish we’d thought of Carpe Iuniperorum (Seize the Juniper…i.e. the gin!) There are a good few Tempus Fugit (time flies) but only one Tempus Vernum (Spring time). I wonder if the owner of this was an Enya, Verdi or nature fan or perhaps all three?

A Carpe Diem lurks on a turquoise background beyond the Portuguese Vida Nova (new life)…

The most common names are those reflecting some of the highlights of this beautiful floating environment. Kingfisher and Dragonfly appear in their hundreds according to licence lists. Flora and fauna also provide inspiration for more original names like the rain lily Zephyranthes. Pretty apt as living on a narrowboat you’re well aware of any precipitation!

There are boats whose names reflect what inspires or fires the passions of their owners. Victo Gould was inspired to name Zero after reading of a philosopher who declared zero to be “the immovable mover of things… puts everything into balance, much like a boat which is floating level.” I only hope the philosopher wasn’t Schopenhauer. Canals weren’t much good for him. He drowned in one in Hamburg in 1805.

Dragon’s Dream was inspired by poster from the owner’s youth and his passion for these fire breathing flying creatures. The eyes at the front of the boat are inspired in the Norse tradition to both offer protection and enable the vessel to find its way safely.

Floating along our inland waterways are some sensationally unusual names that take you off into fascinating discoveries as well as far fetched musings about how they came by their monikers. There are advantages to social distancing and lockdown at times – it allows your imagination to go wild and not be stifled by reality or truth. Sometimes you don’t want to know the real reason behind the name – imagining how a boat could have got its name can take you into flights of fancy….One day I hope I will be able to catch up with some of these boats at a time I can knock on the side and ask about the real reasons behind their names, but sometimes you’re just passing by and have to rely on your imagination… which has the advantage of at least preventing the disappointingly unimaginative response of: “No idea, it had that name when we bought it.”.

The Flying Eagle for example may be owned by enthusiastic numismatists who longed to own one of the rare American coins but never did. Instead they gave its name to their beloved boat…alternatively they could have owned one of the rare coins and funded the boat by its sale…or the owner could have been a trapeze artist … Just one name and the possibilities are endless!

Khaleesi – I’m sure will be owned by a strong woman…. or by someone who earned the money to buy the boat from involvement in the Games of Thrones dramatisation of George R.R. Martin’s book A Song of Ice and Fire… Khaleesi was after all Martin’s title for the wife of a Dothraki warlord.

Montgomery Pickles Esq has had his story written up already – and a remarkable one it is, one that just can’t be embellished! There does remain a question of whether the boat was indeed really named after a… goldfish?

Some names make you wonder what was the spur that led their owners to take to narrowboats or are perhaps evidence of wishful thinking, Rehab, Patience, Wegonen-Dunnit, Who gives a… and Peace at last for example. The latter has ended up with the owner of at least one of the 5 on the water being nicknamed Tombstone – something he apparently wasn’t expecting!

As you can see we positively sped past Lady Mondegreen (my excuse for poor photography). She gave her name to misheard lyrics and appeared with the Earl of Moray in situ.

Sylvia Wright coined the term mondegreen for a misheard lyric after mishearing the lyrics of one of Bishop Thomas Percy’s Reliques as:

Ye Highlands and ye Lowlands,
Oh, where hae ye been?
They hae slain the Earl o’ Moray
And Lady Mondegreen. (Percy wrote: “and lay’d him on the green”)

My own mondegreen has led my daughters to burst out laughing in clubs and parties whenever Kings of Leon play:

Lay where you’re laying
Don’t make a sound
I know they’re watching
They’re watching

All the commotion
The kiddie-like play
Has people talking
They’re talking

You
Your socks is on fire

Flaming socks always struck me as such a delightfully odd thing to sing about. None of us can now unhear this and I had it as my mobile ringtone for years.

Talking of songs, would you believe at last count there were 6 Waterloo Sunset‘s floating on this ‘dirty old river’…or canals… and television and musicals inspire too. When I can approach boats and shout without fear of breaching social distancing rules, I want to know how and why Craggy Island and Alfie got their names. Connections with performances, episodes, or just a love for the stories they tell?

Sometimes the name you see hides a charming or amusing story when you do get the chance to meet and talk to the owners. Maythorne is a 60ft narrowboat owned by a couple who had a lifetime in horticulture. Appropriately their boat is named after the English hedgerow staple also known as hawthorn which turns the countryside into a swathe of white in May. It was the topic for the first article the owner wrote when approached to share his knowledge more widely.

Molly ‘D’ who I hope you have the chance to encounter at floating markets is the home of spinner and weaver Christine and her Yorkshire husband. If you see them make a point of visiting their boat to see her work which clients across the globe seek out. When they were trying to decide on a name for their boat they went back and forth between them watched by their dog Molly. In despair, unable to choose a name they said they might as well leave it to the dog, and so the boat is… Molly ‘D’. Molly Dog is sadly no longer but her name lives on afloat.

Some boats have fuelled my fascination to the point where I’ve spent money and enjoyed hours of research in a quest to know more.

Passing Mabel Stark on a mooring resulted in me discovering the remarkable Mary Ann Haynie in 1920s America. Under the name of Mabel Stark she became the most renowned tiger trainer in the States with Barnum and Bailey’s circus among others – and here she still is, remembered with her name emblazoned on an English narrowboat! I’d love to see the decor on board – tiger prints throughout perhaps? I do want to hear how the owners came by the name – were they tiger trainers themselves? Is the owner perhaps the Canadian author Robert Hough, or a relative of his? Or maybe even a relative of Mabel’s? One day I hope to meet Mabel Stark cruising the cut and not on a mooring so I can ask the questions I long to have answered. In the meantime the novel based on Mabel’s remarkable career and racy life raised eyebrows for a winter evening or two. It’s now moved into the boaters’ book exchange at Willington in South Derbyshire for other boaters. It’s no spoiler to say her life was probably even more exciting than the book about it!

Another boat name has resulted in me wanting to order two books about the life of another exceptional woman – Ursula Graham Bowers. This former debutante broke away from the strictures of English society’s expectations for young ladies and in 1939 headed to the mountainous Naga region between India and Burma. Her resulting anthropological observations of the Naga groups of the region were recognised for their detail and insight, despite the fact she had no formal training in anthropology. In World War II at the request of the British administration she led a guerilla force of 150 armed Naga against the Japanese troops. Her exploits earned her the nicknames Naga Queen and Jungle Queen. Might this boat be or have been owned by one of her relatives, or by one of the authors or writers who documented her life? I was delighted in whilst researching the Naga Queen to find video which allowed me to hear the indomitable lady’s voice in person in a beautifully conducted received pronounciation interview from 1985. It seems strangely dated by today’s standards, very staged with no interruptions, no aggressive questions and a gentle appreciation for the subject.

I’m now eagerly awaiting a chance to read Ursula Graham Bowers’ biography as well as getting out of lockdown to start cruising again. What onomatological gems lie out there to discover?

Lessons in mindful consumption from a tough challenge !

Spoiler alert to start – blog details an epic fail with highly recommended side-effects for individuals, businesses, in fact for anyone who consumes anything!

There are challenges one rises to, those achieved with struggle or panache and there are those which just flop, flounder and fail. For two of us the challenge of living on £20 a week between us came in the latter category. 

The fail may well have resulted from my total dislike of mathematical documentation, or a complete failure on my part of following the principles of careful meal planning advocated and demonstrated so successfully by both my mother-in-law and my elder daughter. Even with delicious edible gifts from Christmas to call on from family and friends (thank you Alice, Freya and the Day family) as well as the gin fairy (aka the inestimable Lesley) – I failed the challenge. Maybe my philosophy was at fault… 

There are relevant lessons from this experience for those running any business, office or industry as we emerge from lockdown. We can all so easily become accepting of regular outgoings in a way that often means we lose sight of their accumulated totals and the impact that can have. It will also be interesting to see how many people returning to work away from home become suddenly aware of the accumulating costs of not working from home, and how much businesses face increased costs of reduced  digital dependence. The last year has been hard and we need businesses and individuals to remain in existence for our collective recovery from this destructive pandemic.

We did have some fun trying the £20 challenge and discovered some fascinating meals we’d never have encountered otherwise. The eternally inventive Jack Monroe saved our digestion and purse on several occasions as normal. Plus no food was thrown away apart from potato peelings too green to be made into crisps, and the skins of onions and garlic.

So to the details…

I can manage a week of breakfast monotony in a good cause so every day began with porridge. I added 2 chunks of cheap Co-Op milk chocolate to my bowl whilst Steve had sultanas and more porridge. Outcome 12p each daily.

Steve, it appears, would also be happy to eat the same lunch every day. I gritted my teeth and followed suit for most of the week once I realised how much easier it made the maths!

On two days we enjoyed homemade vegetable mulligatawny soup with a slice of bread, some spread and a yoghurt. 50p each in total with the yoghurts eating up a whopping 35p of that bill.

Homemade mulligatawny soup – guaranteed to bring a splash of colour and warmth to the darkest of days

The remaining five days of lunches were cheese, bread and delicious Christmas gifted homemade caramelised onion chutney. Two days included a yoghurt taking lunches to 58p each. Three days saw yoghurts replaced with 15.5p apples etaking the total to 36.5p each.

Evenings brought inventive fun plus indulgence. Pre-dinner Scrabble matches were held over a treat of a gin and tonic and nibbles. Nibbles not homemade this week so 18p a time, and the gin courtesy of the inestimable gin fairy with tonic from the monthly shop. Such treats have been essential this lockdown!

The monthly shop additions I divided in 4 (£2.04) for the purpose of the challenge:

  • Butter spread 500g @ 79p
  • Slimline tonic water 4 bottles at 30p a bottle 
  • 2 Milk 4ltr @ £1.09 (usually buy one a fortnight)
  • Coffee 200g @ £2.00
  • Cheese cheddar block @ £2 – made lunches and two suppers
  • I also added in £1 to cover herbs, spices and Pomegranate tea used this week from the store shelf
Clockwise – not pink beetroot pasta, smoky vegetable jambalaya and vegetable curry

Day 1 Smoky vegetable jambalaya (Dr Rudy Aujla -) 30p a portion plus tinned rhubarb and custard = total 72p each. Gave a spicy fragrance to the boat which was lovely.

Day 2 Cauliflower cheese (30p bargain cauli!)  – each portion 40p.  Fruit compote of a left over satsuma, pear and tinned pineapple 23p each.

Day 3 Remainer of jambalaya with cauliflower leaves and veggie quarter pounders (87p each portion) plus remaining rhubarb with vanilla yoghurt (cheaper version) total £1.18 each. Daily costs are rising, just wait until you see tomorrow…

Day 4 Steve’s divine mmmushroom risotto – sadly our homegrown mushrooms have all been eaten and foraging season hasn’t yet begun so I bought chestnut mushrooms locally for £1. Adding in white wine, Arborio rice and Parmesan brought the cost to £1.23 each . Bananas at 15p each finished the meal.

Day 5 A highly experimental dish courtesy of Jack Monroe – beetroot pasta.  Absolutely delicious despite being made with well out of date beetroot at 10p for 250g. Ours came out not the vibrant pink of her recipe but sludge brown! I never knew that over-stored beetroot lost its colour! This is down as a Must-Try-Again with fresh beetroot which I imagine will be deliveranother taste sensation. Total cost 65p including a yoghurt.

Day 6 Every vegetable left in the veg rack curried with some red lentils creating a spicy scented boat and a satisfying, warming dish. Served with rice and another of those d*#@ expensive yoghurts for a pud! Total 61p each.

Day 7 Pasta with homemade creamy tomato and herb sauce plus an apricot oat crumble with the last of the creme fraiche. 77p each in total. 

Top: Creamy tomato pasta Below: Apricot crumble with creme fraiche

The weekly total? £27.43 for two of us… didn’t seem too bad! Then I remembered the two packs of hot cross buns that found their way into my basket – another £1 to add – they were on a deal and can freeze… oh, and the packet of giant chocolate buttons which somehow fell in – another 99p! And then there was the support for the cafe boat with coffee and biscuits at a remarkable £2.30 (thanks to a loyalty card) – still an additional outgoing ! Thus the challenge of £20 a week was well and truly blown out of the water. Still £31.72 for two people in the winter in a lockdown when food seems such a highlight of the day, doesn’t seem too bad. We have eaten healthily, certainly not starved and I have lost some weight which is a good thing. It’s also nothing short of remarkable considering I also consumed a present of salted caramel and chocolate hot cross buns!

One issue I spotted was the amount we spend on yoghurt when there are no offers in the local supermarket. I shall now experiment with making my own. It will either be highly successful or a disaster. In the winter it should ferment in a towel-wrapped pot near the stove overnight and once charity shops open I can enjoy trawling for a wide mouth thermos for summer yoghurt making. Our current flask is in daily use for boiled water as boiling the kettle time and time again wastes gas.

This week has been a fascinating challenge with multiple positives:

  • We achieved zero food waste using every leftover
  • I am now mindful of previously unrecognised expenses in indulgences like daily snacks and also in staples like yoghurts
  • Making our own (snacks, yoghurts, veggie burgers) may turn out to be more fun and just as tasty (if not tastier) whilst reducing costs.

Any comments or recipes would be very gratefully received!

The wider issue of conscious consuming is something we all employ do to cut costs particularly when returning to work with commuting costs and increased business overheads. It’s all too easy to slip back into habits like unnecessary photocopying or printing without recognising the cost; those frothy coffees or snatched lunches which can lead to us wondering where the pennies have gone. The return to work is going to be tough for individuals and businesses both psychologically but also economically. Every penny will count going forward so mindful consumption could contribute to keeping jobs and savings. We have learned the hard way that so much can be done exclusively online, minutes of meetings, agendas, learning materials, reports – let’s keep those lessons into post-lockdown to save resources, costs and cut waste. 

Mindful consumption isn’t over for me though the challenge week is done. It has made me more aware. I want to see the economic impacts of meal planning (yes, I concede in outline!) and home production of snacks, burgers, yoghurts etc. We currently have the car (electric) with us so had I not walked to a local supermarket would the bill have been cheaper after factoring in electricity and other running costs? Better still, I should cycle to the cheaper store to save fuel and money as well as getting some extra exercise – one for the next supermarket shop! Roll on too the warmer weather and a chance to get our rooftop veg patch producing.

Pomegranate tea brings the colour and vibrancy of Turkey to soggy South Derbyshire in March!

Next week: What’s in a name – pearls and pitfalls.

#zerowaste #consciousconsumption #mindfulconsumers #liveon£10aweek #jackmonroe #drrupyaujla #makingendsmeet #savingmoney #boatlife #boatsthattweet #cuttingcosts #usingresourceswell

Planning our great escape from lockdown

Lockdown has been a long haul this time – not a long haul that takes us to new locations but a long haul to nowhere which has reinforced why segregation is used as a punishment in prisons.

It seems ironic that taking off on a boat to enjoy a panoply of changing sights, sounds and challenges has resulted in us being moored in a single location since 28 December (in which time we’ve moved mooring precisely 6 feet to avoid mud). Our changing sights have been those of daily local walks or runs; ever-changing sunsets or sunrises reflected on water or ice; and floating neighbours heading out for water, diesel or pump outs. We’ve been part of a lockdown project unveiling by a family who built themselves a kayak. We watched the inaugural launching – and were as relieved as they were that it floated successfully! As the weather has improved we regularly see kayaks and stand up paddle boarders out on the water. It can be disconcerting to look out onto the waterside from a side hatch and find yourself face-to-face with someone silently gliding by. I’m now worried about startling a wobbly paddle boarder as I pop my head out!

Watersports make for a different feel on the canal

We may have been in one place but it is surprising how much there is to see. Perhaps this extended static stay has made us more observant with all our senses. This awareness is something which I am vowing to continue – to take conscious time to look, smell and listen to what’s around. We’ve moved from the musty winter smell of the leaf mould in the nearby oak wood through the fresh but woody smell of snow to a different freshness in the Springlike air.

Sounds are bombarding our senses too. Inside the boat they include the sound of rain pattering gently or thundering violently on our metal roof, the squeak of fenders as they flex against the bank in response to passing craft or buffeting winds and in breezy days the scratch and thud of small twigs flying off nearby trees onto our boat. External sounds include the gentle constant of birdsong now apparent for more hours each day. Some of the robins (of which there are many here) start to sing their uplifting melodies at 3am at the moment! I’ve also heard my first woodpecker hammering away. At the other end of the soundscape comes graunching and grinding of the trains on the railway. If we hadn’t had to, we wouldn’t have moored here for long because of the railway but we would have missed out! We can now identify the passenger from the freight, quarry loads from container trains – a skill we wouldn’t have developed without this extended opportunity to attune.

The main challenge has been one I’m sure hundreds of thousands of people have faced – to stay positive, and resilient in the face of this mundane, situation which appears out of our control. I have found seeking a daily image to record a positive for the day is uplifting. Like many, lockdown has also led me to explore what others do to develop emotional resilience, or emotional survival.

Scioli and Biller in their 2009 book ‘Hope in the Age of Anxiety’ identify the need to develop hope as a fundamental way out, and that its development lies in planning and visualising the way out. More recently, Jan Lodge in The Conversation identifies 3 key lessons for us all from prisoners’ experiences.

  1. Battle the mundane
  2. Understand what you can control
  3. Go on mental excursions

I’m battling the mundane in seeking beauty and interest in it as per my daily images posted on social media which develop fascinating comments and conversations with others all over the world. I recognise that I can control in the direction I take daily exercise and maximise its value by making the most of every moment I am out and about. I also control what I eat, the privilege of having food and enjoying the challenge of creating interesting meals. Food has become a feature of this lockdown!

Going on mental excursions was not something I had begun until this week. Perhaps the fear of hopes dashed from past lockdown lifting had made me nervous of even considering a future return to our peripatetic floating life. This is normally a life with a high level of spontaneity – where shall we go today, how far, which route, what might we see etc. This week amid all the excitement of a finale to lockdown, I strangely found I needed something to pick me up, to bolster my emotional resilience – so I began to plan our lockdown exit routemap…

It has been personal this planning, I have been able to flex personal control in making choices and decisions. I know some of these have, and will be influenced by external factors but this made me reflect on the importance for all businesses, and educational establishments to involve their employees and students in forward planning. Returning to a new way of working after nearly a year of working differently will demand choice and involvement if people are to feel included and engaged in the new future.

Hopefully forward planning for us will mean that we will go ahead more informed, aware of the history, geography and features of interest on our route. We will head north west on what was formally called The Grand Trunk Canal – now known as the Trent and Mersey. It follows the River Trent aptly named by British Celts (trent meaning flooding river). We can confirm they got it right as we’ve been able to monitor the river during this lockdown!

Yup – evidence the Trent still floods!

Continuous cruisers like us are not only subject to the decisions of Boris and scientists but also on CRT’s interpretation of political lockdown moves. In our case because of our current geographic location when we move also depends on environmental factors. The River Trent which we have to cross to get onto the next stage of the Trent and Mersey Canal is currently open, but has been shut a few times by flooding in past weeks. Will it be open when we are able to get there? CRT have currently interpreted the government’s lockdown steps to suggest we could move on 29 March when “Travel outside local area allowed.” That will mean for us that we will have been here for 3 months and a day, the longest we have moored anywhere as continuous cruisers. Once away from Willington, through Burton of brewing fame and across the Trent we come to Alrewas, a delightful village named after the alders which grew in profusion there. We were here before Christmas we found it a most pleasant place – convenient for shops and good walks, friendly people whose Christmas (and house) decorations were unique.

The visual delights of Alrewas at Christmas.

Alrewas is also walking distance to the remarkable National Memorial Arboretum – well worth making the time to visit. Every season the Arboretum changes so we look to revisiting as Spring is arriving. I expect the sculptures to take on a different feel as the trees come into leaf and bulbs flower.

Even a wet winter’s day at the National Memorial Arboretum was poignant and powerfully emotive – look forward to visiting in Spring

After Alrewas comes Fradley Junction with the Coventry Canal. It was here we turned onto the Trent and Mersey back in early December 2020. We will be head north west up the Trent and Mersey from there, exploring pastures totally new. In a way it seems risky planning a lockdown escape, as I am sure anyone planning a holiday feels too. There are still clouds of doubt hanging over us, and the potential that the hope planning creates might be dashed. Somehow it seems more sensible and manageable to plan in small steps – alarmingly copying Boris perhaps! Step 1 for us is a 45 mile, 6.25 furlong trip from our current base to the start of the Caldon Canal in Staffordshire. With a travelling time of 3 hours a day and 34 locks it would take 8 days to get to the Caldon. Sadly the 44 pubs and 10 restaurants mapped en route are likely to remain shut to us. We shall stop en route to see some friends at a distance, so the journey should take us some weeks.

Looking forward enables us to look back with relief. We have already said farewell (thank heavens) to the last of the broad locks. Stenson Lock was the scene of our closest brush with disaster coming through between Christmas and New Year. These deep locks can be incredibly dangerous, particularly in winter. The undertow is strong when filling the lock. If you’re on your own and not going through with another boat, it’s important to try and hold the boat at the far bollard to stop it being pulled under the rushing water that can sink the bow of the boat. Stenson at 12ft 2inches or 3.71m is the sixth deepest lock in England and Wales. Our centreline which had suffered during a marina stay in Lockdown 2 wouldn’t reach the bollard and with just one ground paddle only partly open the boat was sucked into the cascading waters. The depth also meant I couldn’t see the boat from the top of the lock but Steve attracted my attention with the horn so I could lower the paddle to prevent the water battering the boat.

Stenson lock – calm without a boat but still deep!

Fortunately another person heard the horn alarm and came through the torrential rain to help. With two of us – one working the lock, the other able to see the boat and its situation as well as catching the rope as soon possible, we made it through with only racing heart-rates, a drenched bow rope which had been washed off the bow deck by the force of the water and an even greater respect for managing locks safely. We also now have a new longer centreline – in fact we went for a complete new set from Tradline.

So back to forward planning – Step 1 takes us 45 miles 6.25 furlongs through 34 locks. That consists of 41 miles, 4 furlongs of narrow canals with 34 narrow locks and 4 mile, 2.25 miles of broad canals, that are delightfully free of locks! It will take us through the former Armitage Tunnel when a crew member needs to walk through to check for boats coming the other way. We will be able to moor at Great Haywood and walk to visit the National Trust Shugborough Estate. Whether it’ll be a grounds-only walk or a visit to the house is another question dependent on lockdown at the time we reach there. Down Banks, another National Trust woodland area near Stone won’t be restricted. The most glorious thing is that we can hope to share these exciting outings with family and/or friends, and perhaps offer them hospitality on the boat which would be absolutely wonderful.

The only issue with this mental excursion is that I am now itching to get underway – it’s unsettled my equilibrium and acceptance of the lockdown! Let’s hope we only have another month to wait before the dream becomes a reality. A change is apparent through numbers on the towpath – dozens of older people we’ve never seen before saying to each other as they pass the boat ,”Now I’ve had my jab it’s good to be out” and the sunshine is bringing out much bigger groups than we’ve seen to date. This final furlong of the lockdown is proving very hard for many, and overhearing their conversations (at volume as they pass) some have decided it’s now almost over so a few weeks aren’t going to make much difference. There are also now more boats evidently on the move, guidance or not.

We are going to sit tight until 29 March with everything crossed that we can move then. For now it’s back to making the most of the present, made easier by the ever-changing water and light views which help me forget we are still stuck!

Early evening from the side hatch

In the meantime we are taking on the challenge of living on £20 a week. Will we make it? Find out next week if we will have made savings ready for the pubs when they reopen or if we’ve failed!

Covid positive at last!

I’ve been struck this week by the ways in which this pandemic has created, strengthened and developed communities – it is a genuine Covid positive. It’s something I hope we don’t lose as we head out of this initial crisis, but from which I hope we learn. Environments of both home and work will need strong communities to support individuals as we move into whatever the next phase will be. Coming out of this pandemic could be much harder than it was going into it.

Whatever our ages and our situations we are going to face another period of significant upheaval, and this is where strong communities can help with genuine, practical, uncritical support. We may all be in the same storm of a pandemic or its aftermath, but we are not all in the same boat. We are all facing different pressures and will continue to do so. It won’t all just go back to “normal” whatever that is and strong, supportive communities are going to be vital for our survival whether in person or online. I think there is going to be a particular need for this in the new work environments particularly as that is where people often feel unable or discouraged to be honest about the stresses and strains they are facing. A supportive workplace community can be a productive one.

Community has always been important to me as an individual – sense of responsibility, belonging, public spirit (Latin: Communitas) and common purpose. I wondered how it would be replicated, or indeed if it could be replicated if you were part of an itinerant, travelling community as a boat dweller.

We moved onto our boat as full-time continuous cruisers (cc) during the hiatus between Lockdowns 1 and 2. We came from a village where the pandemic had resulted in significant development of an existing sense of community. Wherever we’ve lived we have been an active part of community groups. In our village we have supported wherever we could annual community events like a major summer festival, Remembrance Sunday, and a Pancake Race.

Both of us, yes both of us, playing our part in one community event!

During the pandemic other community efforts began in the village, and we had been glad to become part of a scheme operated via Facebook to help and support neighbours in need in a variety of ways, with shopping, collecting prescriptions, telephoning to provide conversation etc. I learned new skills and encountered new people (remotely of course) through a community craft project during Lockdown 1 which has resulted in a splendid rainbow quilt of stitched 12inch square images of our community – geographic in terms of location landmarks; emotional in terms of people and feelings particularly centred round the pandemic; and identity based providing perspectives from the many sub-groups within the village to which people belonged. That shared endeavour has creating an ongoing crafting community. Members mutually support each other not in some face to face sewing bee as our mothers and grandmothers had experienced in wartime, but via online communities. We recognised a need to be doing something, and the initial quilt creation was something which would share our stories, celebrate the things we held dear and be a physical testament to the way in which the community pulled together in what we naively imaged was “The Lockdown”… little did we imagine it was to be the first of many…

Pointing out my 1860, Bridge 25 in the quilt . My fabulous grandson, the next generation finds the displayed, finished work fascinating.

To move from this hive of community spirit onto a boat felt odd to me. In one sense as if we were being selfish and cutting ourselves off from everyone, in another way quite liberating – no responsibilities for anyone else (apart from family of course although Covid meant we were still having to distance from them too!). The pandemic though had shown us how capable they all are, and indeed made us so proud of their independence, liberating us perhaps from the feeling that we couldn’t take off on the boat to live and work from there because we were needed! We might be wanted (which is lovely) but we recognised that we weren’t really needed, and on the odd occasion we might be, we could be there. So we took to our own little bubble floating about on the cut in what felt initially like glorious isolation. Communication with family, friends and work was safely conducted via diverse technological means but physically we were isolated.

Gradually over the months it became apparent that most boaters we met were doing their best to maintain social distancing, keeping their distance, and thus reducing their contact with others. We all still helped each other through locks but socially distanced from opposite sides of the canal! Conversations were short and there was no shared space – no opportunity to share a pint at a canalside pub or onboard each others boats.

I notice online communities within social media for continuous cruisers (of whom here are over 5,500 registered in the UK), but none appear particularly vibrant unless among the London cc community who have specific issues that draw them together – lack of space, need to remain within working distances etc. whilst trying to maintain Canal and Rivers Trust’s (CRT) 14-day maximum stay rule.

Lockdown 2 found us in a marina for a month. A different type of community – location based, and clearly organisational based community. It demonstrated a hierarchy, a clearly defined structure.

Within minutes we were visited by the lady who had been moored there longest, to tell us how things operated… in addition to the marina operators there was a clear code of conduct among moorers. The community was able to offer help and advice – when the butcher called, where the best shops were, when and where to find community markets and the best fishing or dog walking etc. People kept themselves to themselves although regular cliques were apparent.

Fast forward to Lockdown 3 – and we, along with an increasing number of continuous cruisers are in a village, moored along a busy towpath . It’s the best of all worlds if you can’t move – not far away we have a water point, disposal services, a marina for diesel and parts, local shops, a post office and country walks.

More and more boats are gathering at the moorings as the floods and ice clear.

I have been struck over the months since we began lockdown how vibrant the community has become – still socially distanced, but evident. It’s not just among the boaters, but we have experienced a sense of growing community between ourselves and the local community. That seems apparently at odds with some of the cc Facebook groups who portray themselves as online spaces designed to support an “often vilified” group of boaters.

Covid appears, in this instance, to have had a positive impact in developing a united community between the itinerant floating travellers and the fixed residential boaters and bricks and mortar dwellers. It’s got me thinking about how communities develop, and considering what it is that each of us can do to maintain the good things about them as we move out of the pandemic.

Strong communities whether in person or online stem from shared interests and needs. This may be around a place, a purpose or a platform. We’ve seen communities pull together against common threats – development, a desire to preserve a specific environment, and most recently to fight the Covid pandemic. People have volunteered locally to man vaccination centres, test centres, to give out information and alongside the towpath there has been a very clear development of a positive community spirit.

Every boat is its own bubble. Some contain single boaters, some families, some couples, friends or siblings. We are all individuals, with a common shared interest – living afloat. Our reasons for doing so are as diverse as we ourselves. For some its the only way of affording a home of their own, for others a deliberately chosen way of living, some have bricks and mortar homes they let, some work from their boats, some are retired. Everyone is different but the pandemic has brought us together. Before the pandemic continuous cruisers under CRT licences would have to move on at least every 14-days unless there was a particular reason – illness, ice, flooding etc. In the case of one of our boating neighbours here, CRT supported an extended stay when their cat went missing. The cat fortunately was found, albeit in a very sorry state, but then significant resulting veterinary treatment resulted in a further stay which then ran into lockdown so they have become a very familiar feature here! Locals rallied round to hunt for the missing cat, and were delighted by its eventual return. Pets do bring people together, not only in lockdown, and dogs get us all out walking.

The local accent took us a bit to adjust to – our introduction was when a local lady walking her dog pointed at ours and said “Harold?” (or so we thought). “No, Cola”, we replied, slightly puzzled, only to discover she’d said, “Har old?” as in “How old?”! Now we know and are attuned!

Cola aka Harold!

Perhaps it is because this is an established canal hub with services that makes local people supportive and accepting of the normally itinerant floating community. Perhaps it is that the pandemic with its enforced requirement for us to stay here has provided an opportunity for us to see and appreciate the local community, as well as get to know our floating neighbours. People chat (at a distance). We can tell you the ages of most people we talk to – a direct result of Covid vaccination bands. We support with deliveries of fuel, carry rubbish bags to the disposal point and do shopping for those less able. Maybe this would happen anyway but often it takes a few days for the English reserve to be breached, and the lockdown which puts us all in the same metaphorical boat means we have a shared experience, a shared need to communicate and seek to support each other in a situation which is very different from the independent, itinerant norm.

I hope we meet these individuals again on our travels. I feel sure it will be a reunion with some warmth as we will hopefully be able to share a brew or a drink together reminiscing over our collective lengthy winter lockdown. What I hope I remember as we all move on is the small ways which I can contribute to building and supporting communities wherever they may be – floating or fixed. It’s about unquestioning respect each other but also seeing who may find it useful to have rubbish carried for them, shopping done, dogs walked and what a difference a cheery wave or friendly chat can make. Positive communities in which we can play a part make us and others feel good – and we all need that. The onus is on each of us to make the change we wish to see in our communities at home or work, however long lasting or transitory they may be.

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person, or if we wait for some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.”

Barack Obama

Everything you’ve wanted to know but had no-one to ask about living and working afloat

Since we left bricks and mortar behind to live and work from our 50ft floating home we’ve encountered recurring questions. This compilation of what we’ve been asked may cover things you wanted to know, so this week’s blog is for you.

Every boat and every boater differs – our answers are just that – ours. Another boater on a different boat could have completely different responses. We are continuous cruisers – living full-time on board.

How do you keep warm? Most regular at the moment and every boat is different. Many boats have diesel powered central heating, but we don’t have central heating at all. We have a Morso Squirrel multifuel stove which is at the bow end of the boat just as you come in the doors. We fuel it with smokeless coal and occasional wood. On top of the stove we have a Tomersun 3 blade stove fan operated by the heat of the stove. Canal boat forums are divided on the value of these fans. Manufacturers claim they circulate the heat produced more efficiently and thus lower fuel consumption. Ours was on the boat when we bought it and the stove heats the boat efficiently so we keep it! At the time of writing this blog temperatures outside are minus 6 but it’s quite topical inside. Steve’s in a tee shirt and I am clad in 2 layers. To go outside I don 3 more layers including my invaluable Aldi thermals – I hate feeling cold! It’s true that there’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes.

How do you do your shopping? Like everyone else, we use food shops locally to wherever we have moored the boat. We can order online too if we plan to be near delivery boxes or local shops that accept deliveries.

What do you do at night? Er…sleep? I had to ask some questions myself about this one! Some boaters do travel with lights occasionally into the evening but not through the night. We are always moored up by dark.

How do you know which way to go? We choose where we want/need to be and look for the canals and navigable rivers which get us closest. We use Pearsons, Nicholsons in print – Canal Plan AC and the CRT map online. Sometimes there are stoppages because of issues or necessary work which can mean that a canal isn’t navigable for a period of time so the online sites are useful for that. They also show fuel and water fill ups and waste disposal places which we need to factor in.

Do you need a licence to drive a narrowboat? No. There are RYA courses you can take and hire boaters get guidance from their hire company. CRT have an online Boaters Handbook too.

How far do you travel each day? When we were holidaying on our boat before we lived on it permanently we used to travel long days and so longer mileage – up to 20 miles a day. Now we live aboard we travel an average of 3 hours a day but outside lockdown we don’t travel daily. If we find a place we fancy exploring more then we will stay longer. If we have a day with lots of locks they take time so mileage will be reduced. Mileage in 3 hours a day with no/few locks is about 8 miles a day, the calculation is 3 miles and/or 4 locks an hour. Maximum travelling speed is 4mph on canals.

Can you moor anywhere? Because we are continuous cruisers (outside lockdown) we have to be on the move all the time, never staying at the same place for more than a fortnight. If you walk, cycle or run along the towpaths of canals and rivers operated by Canal and Rivers Trust (CRT) you will often see signs giving indicators of what mooring is allowed in different places – 4 hour shop and drop (just what they say – near shops for shopping only), 48 hr, 7 day, 14 day and at the moment winter mooring. In London some short stay mooring is pre-bookable. Winter moorings (outside pandemic lockdown) enable boaters to pay to moor for a month at a time from November to March. Many shorter term moorings extend to 14 days during winter months. Restrictions apply to us as continuous cruisers too. Outside these signposted areas we are permitted to moor almost anywhere alongside canal or river towpaths (always on the towpath side) as long as we aren’t obstructing navigation and can moor safely.

What happens if you outstay the mooring time allowed? Signs in some places indicate that if you want to stay on you can pay £25 for every extra day. Canal and Rivers Trust monitors the index numbers of moored boats to identify who is where when. Overstaying licence holders are written to, and boats can be removed at the owners expense.

Notice that someone’s outstayed their welcome!

Where do you get fuel from? Marinas and boat yards. Local red diesel prices are common topics of conversations among continuous cruisers moored up!

What happens to your poo? A question not exclusive to small boys! Usually it goes into either a big holding tank which needs pumping out regularly at a marina or boatyard for a fee(£20 ish) regularly – how often depends on how many people are on board. The tank on our boat had issues when we bought it so we replaced it with a Thetford flushing toilet. Waste goes into a sealed cassette which we empty every few days at an Elsan disposal point, provided at regular points and part of the charge of the annual licence all boaters pay to keep a boat on the system. Some boats have composting toilets – would have been nice but was out of our budget.

Old yucky tank removed, sleek new toilet installed. Steve designed it so the cassette pulls out easily into the corridor and then wheels out

Do you pay council tax? Continuous cruisers don’t as we aren’t resident in any given council area. Residential mooring boaters pay their local council tax.

Don’t you get bored? When we are cruising there are changing scenes all day long. Even cruising a stretch we’ve done previously there are new sights, new wildlife, weather and landscape changes . We have some days of cruising, some of working , visitors when we can have them, daily miles of dog walking and because we have consciously downshifted, we deliberately devote more time to daily living tasks. We also need to fill up with water, dispose of waste, and do daily boat maintenance and in season, gardening.

Plenty to do, plenty to see, plus challenges at periodic intervals prevents boredom.

Is it claustrophobic? No. The boat is quite spacious and we are on and off regularly – operating locks, walking the dog, walking between locks, shopping, exploring new areas and outside pandemics enjoying the hospitality of the many lovely canalside pubs.

What does the name of your boat mean? In French le préaux is a playground or recreation area, its also part of the name of the village where we used to live and where our daughters were born – a very special place.

Is it unlucky to change to change the name of a boat? Superstition says you should change a name whilst the boat is out of the water but as long as you notify your licensing authority, you can change it as often as you like and call it what you like as long as it doesn’t offend or insult.

How do you get post? We are lucky – one of our daughters lets us use her address.. Some people use a poste restante address via the Post Office. You have to check with individual post offices as they can’t all provide this service.

What about doctors? Residential boaters register where they are, some continuous cruisers either maintain their original doctors or register when there is a need wherever they are.

What do you do if the canal freezes? Sit tight, wait for a thaw and enjoy it. Moving in thick ice can damage your boat’s hull and other boats.

How much do boats cost? The sky’s the limit – some people spend hundreds of thousands. Our boat was on the market for around £35,000 but we negotiated the price because we had to replate and black her hull.

How do you fund your lifestyle? We have significantly reduced our outgoings. For income we rent out 3 bricks and mortar properties; Steve has a holiday cover job; I write and provide academic consultancy.

What do you miss? For me the washing machine and tumbler drier (some people have them on their boats but we would have to do some considerable restructuring and electrical work for that. For Steve – a bath (again some people have baths on their boats).

Are you mad/brave/irresponsible? Probably all three – also content!

When you look at other narrowboats do you think oooh we could do that to ours? Oh yes – isn’t this human nature? I currently have a list of things I’ve seen which we could do usually about layout, paintwork and gardens. Steve does the same about engine, electrical and mechanical things!

Do you snoop much at other people’s boats like we do with houses? Of course although it’s tricky with social distancing so we can make do with online forums like Facebook Narrowboat Interiors UK. As always some people’s work and budgets are positively intimidating though!

What is the next big project to do on the boat restoration wise? Solar panels on the roof in Spring 2021.

How long will you keep this boat for? No idea.

Will you buy another canal boat after this one or is this the one? A question we do ask ourselves. When daydreaming of baths and washing machines – another 5 or 7 feet would come in handy! Preaux is quirky and we love that, she has features which we really appreciate – some like the stable doors at the bow (ideal for living aboard with dogs and small children) we could replicate on another boat but others like the stern layout would be difficult to copy unless having a boat built from scratch which we couldn’t do.

Love these stable doors – practical and give me pleasure every time I use or look at them. It’s the simple things!

How do you tell family and friends where you are? What 3 Words.

Do people stare in at you? Regularly – you can draw the curtains/blinds if you don’t like it, or as some people do have tinted windows. I love the honesty of children who press their hands and noses against the windows. Some are very envious and we love hearing wistful comments of: “I wish we could live on a boat”. One little girl had us in fits last week with her shriek of: “There are people on here Mum and they’re alive!” Adults tend to try to peer in without looking as if they are, resulting in some amusingly odd contortions as they pass! It is though very sociable – lots of people wave as they pass whether they’re on boats or the towpath. We always wave back.

Do you get seasick? Yes, I do, on the sea but not on canals or rivers where I appreciate the gentle rocking of a boat on water. I find it relaxing and calming.

Top 10 tips for small space and more effective work/home living

Anyone who knows me knows I may be organised but I am not renowned for being neat and tidy! This trait, combined with moving to live permanently on a 50ft narrowboat has given me a particular challenge. Narrowboats are compact homes that demand ingenious and creative storage spaces if we are going to have space to live aboard with everything we want and need around us.

During the pandemic living and working from home has put added pressure on all our environments, whether our home floats or not. Making sure that work doesn’t swamp our homes 24/7 is important to enable us to switch off when we aren’t at work. We are being forced to combine the two but we need to keep a balance, and making the most of your space is one way to do that – a place for work to disappear to for downtime. The answer is to compartmentalise to maximise the space we have. This also mitigates potential feelings of claustrophobic living.

Over the past months on our boat we’ve learned (and keep learning) how to make our constrained space work for us, have what we need to hand, and have space to live. People regularly ask us – how do you fit everything in? isn’t it really cramped? how can you fit an office on the boat? The answers are, “with planning”, “no” and “easily”. Here are my top 10 tips so far.

  1. Multi-task spaces
  2. Fold
  3. Be wardrobe wise
  4. Embrace hang ups!
  5. Shelve
  1. Step up
  2. Wall work
  3. Use 3 Bs
  4. Review regularly
  5. Remember it’s about YOU
  1. Every available space must multi-task– when space is limited you can’t afford to waste it – that includes inside the cupboard doors and under the bed. Inside cupboard doors have narrow storage for keys, thin coats, and hot water bottles (essential comfort at this time of the year). Our double bed is built in on the boat, and raised so we have two big drawers underneath that open out into the corridor. The space beyond the drawers is accessed only by pulling out the mattress and raising the slatted base so contains things we don’t access infrequently. It has not only our hot water tank (horizontally placed to use the space well), but also has big spaces where we store the bulky summer cushions at this time of year, and also keep other seasons clothes. I am now constantly going round the boat looking at spaces and thinking what can work harder!
  2. Fold – at the risk of parroting Marie Kondo hang or fold and organise. Clothes and towels are some of the worst culprits I’ve found. Rolled towels are compact and can be stored far more easily. Unfolded they take up so much more space. By folding teeshirts, trousers, jumpers etc I have managed to double use of available space. (It’s only taken me 60 years to discover this with the help of some fascinating YouTube videos and an introduction from my eldest daughter!)
The heap on the left reduced to the folded amount top right which allowed an additional set of clothes to be added to the space.
  1. Be wardrobe wise – admittedly I don’t have a ballgown on board, so there isn’t a need for really long hanging space but sorting wardrobe hanging has increased available space. We have a single wardrobe on board which now has a single deep shelf at the top and two staggered hanging rails beneath. I have one rail, Steve has the other. Mine is set further back so my clothes slot down behind his and that works well. The base of the wardrobe gives space for bags, holdalls and I just discovered a second toilet seat there… apparently it came with the spare toilet cassette! On the hanging rails the pull rings from tins and cans enable coat hangers to double up too.
  2. Get hung up! Hanging things gets them off the floor, off workspaces, out of the way and makes the most of small spaces which could otherwise not earn their keep. Almost everything can be hung up – in any room. Bath sheets and towels in daily use are hung on hooks to enable them to air. The irritating hanger loops from inside jumpers and dresses have come into their own! Instead of sticking out of the neck of my clothes in haphazard fashion, they are now stitched onto towels as useful hangers! The ceiling of the boat is also used for hanging an airer and washing lines around the stove area so we can dry efficiently in the winter.
Having hang ups are a good use of space

We’ve made some Shaker-style peg racks that fit under the gunwhales (pronounced gunnels: the narrow walkway which runs all round the boat at towpath height). Inside that gives us a flat section before the sides of the boat slope up to the roof. It could be wasted space but narrow shelves (some rescued from skips) fit under it as do hooks.

Storage fitted under the gunwhales
  1. Shelve – shelves are flexible spaces and here on the boat we have a lot of them. Some are built in as shelves but others are repurposed – jam, chutneys and a biscuit tin sit on drawers repurposed into shelves from a small chest of drawers we used to have but which was too big to fit on the boat. Above them sits an old wine box which has become a spice rack.
Storage can be upcycled, practical and attractive at the same time

Shelves and storage can really be made of anything – as you can see! We also have added shelf racks for plates and to maximise the space inside existing kitchen shelves.

  1. Step up to maximise space – we have steps at both ends of the boat (it’s how the living space has a sensible, workable height!) and every single step earns its keep. The space at the back of the boat enables us to store the things which we need but don’t use regularly – paint, electrical gear, diy materials etc. Come the summer I can’t wait to get painting the outside of the boat to make her look lovely, but until then the paint and brushes sit and wait out of the way.
Every step earns its keep on the boat
  1. Walls need to work – in our case mugs, pans, utensils all hang in the kitchen to release space on the worktop. Magnetic knife racks can hold more than knives but vegetable peelers, bottle openers are also to hand on them. Tin can storage – in our case for cutlery but in offices these can make really useful pen pots. Corners are often an area we forget but corner shelves can be invaluable. Our corner shelves built from recycled wood contain our office as well as our water pump.
  2. Use 3 Bs – Baskets, Bags and Boxes. They get a lot of necessary items out of the way – providing stylish and brilliant storage in home offices particularly. They can be moved out of the way quickly, or be permanent fixtures. Hanging baskets and bags can take everything from hats and gloves to files and folders, towels and bathroom items to vegetables obviously depending on the room! Boxes also support organising and operating kitchen shelves. On a practical point it makes it easier to find things things if for example all the sauces are in a single box. As we discovered this week it’s also easier to empty a cupboard fast when you have to if things are in boxes! We had a rainstorm which came with a strong south easterly wind. The one window in the boat without secondary glazing is in the kitchen, above the store cupboard. Such was the force of the rain that the drains around the window got blocked and water came in. By dragging out the boxes from the shelves rapid clean up was enabled, and once the rain abated a screwdriver removed the debris from the drains so all is well at the moment and the only damage was to a container of coffee. It’s good to be kept on your toes!
  3. Review regularly – once you’ve organised an area, see how it works and tweak/change it until it does. I’ve had a spate of MS Teams or Zoom meetings in the past week and been struck how many people have identified issues with their working space, and said these have been issues for what is now nearly a year! If a space isnt working well for you, either as a work or home environment, sort it so it does work to reduce the constant distraction it creates. By using effective storage to compartmentalise we can hide away the office in our leisure time or bring the office to the fore in work time. In our case this is also about seasonal use – our limited space is making us efficient about reviewing what goes in storage when. At the moment summer clothes and summer outdoor furniture is in store to be swapped with bulky winter clothes when we can – that’ll be a day of celebration!
  4. Remember it’s about YOU. Your space must work for you. What works for one person may not work for another. If you like things colour coded – color code them – it will give you pleasure and also support putting things back in the place you’ve designated. I have learned that I need storage that makes sure the things I use regularly are easily accessible because if they are then I get them out and put them away easily. It’s the putting back which is crucial – if it’s too complex to put them back then they get left out and clutter results.
The number of dog beds on board will be reduced in the summer – Cola likes lying outside on a bed in the sun, even though at the moment as you might spot – he’s taken over the sofa!

An additional storage for us is our roof – perhaps your patio space or garage is a comparison. The roof at the moment is our fuel store and has other travel essentials on it like a net for fishing out rubbish from the cut, and barge poles which we use for pushing the boat away from obstructions or shallow water. As the seasons change it will become our garden – enhanced by the many valuable comments and advice shared by readers to a recent post. It has been glorious to watch the days lengthen, and know we are heading towards summer, towards a time when we will live differently with out boat and our space again. That brings me to the next quandry – finding the space now to start seeds and chit my seed potatoes… now what can I move to create the space I need?

Learn the language for a great 2021 staycation afloat

Matt Hancock’s taking his staycation in Cornwall this year we hear. He’s advising people to book UK holidays for 2021. In our experience, one of the best self-contained breaks is on a narrowboat. Having given up our old bricks and mortar lifestyle after Lockdown 1 to live permanently on a narrowboat, we noticed between Lockdown 2 and 3 many more hire boats on the canals with couples and families enjoying a unique pace of life.

Our new lifestyle stems directly from enjoying holidays afloat. We found them ideal holidays with or without children (ours and their friends) and dogs. Unending new walks and runs, constantly changing scenery, a totally relaxing and different pace of life, adventure and excitement brought by locks, tunnels, new places and wildlife to see on a daily basis. What more can one ask?

Wildlife abounds though I have continuously failed to get a picture of the many kingfishers we see.
Unexpected sights including Swarkestone Paviliion – made famous by the Rolling Stones

Hire boats come with almost infinite options – big, small, accessible, pet-friendly, luxurious or basic, high budget, low budget etc. Guidance is given on steering, managing locks, suitable routes and there’s 24/7 support for any queries you might have once underway. CRT – Canal and Rivers Trust have guidance for day trips or holidays afloat which can be a good place to start. It already looks like these holidays are going to be hugely popular this year.

If you like learning a bit of the language for your holiday destination, you can do just the same for a floating staycation. There’s a cant (language specific to those involved) in every profession or walk of life. It’s part of building a sense of belonging. If you speak and understand the lingo then you are part of the community. but to a newbie or outsider, it’s not only often baffling but hilarious too. So here’s my personal, very tongue-in-cheek approximate A-Z of canal and narrowboat speak.

  • Aft – “Let’s meet aft” could I imagine mean after or afternoon but in this context it means the rear of the boat, which depending on the size of boat can also quite a good place to meet and socialise on a holiday!
  • Arm – not a limb, or even abbreviation for Alcohol Risk Management – both of which might be relevant. It’s a dead end branch off a main canal, often built for a specific purpose for boats to service a mine, quarry or town. Often these arms have unique characters and are well worth exploring.
  • Barge – Could describe the way I steer – shove, push, move forcefully or roughly! But as you may know, it’s a long, flat-bottomed boat to carry freight.
  • Bow – not a way of artistically tying up the boat but the front end of the boat. In my case it stands for a Battle Of Wits – what happens when I take over the tiller!
  • Butty – the best sausage butty I’ve ever had came from the delightfully named Gongoozler’s Rest Cafe (see G), a floating snack bar at Braunston on the Grand Union. It’s wonderful to come across such a haven and get a hot ketchup oozing butty when you’re cold and windswept. They also run a book stall in aid of charity and sell amazing lemon drizzle cake! Officially in canal-speak, a butty is a freight barge without power towed by another powered boat.
Gongoozlers Cafe, Braunstone on the Grand Union
  • Crossbed – A place for marital disharmony? Nope – a narrow double bed across the full width of the boat.
  • Cruiser – neither a fast warship nor a random search for sexual partners (at least not in our case) but a narrowboat with a back deck of between 4-8 feet in length, used often as a social space. Many hire boats are cruisers.
  • Cut – I instantly imagine a hair cut (wouldn’t that be blissful at the moment)… or even digital cut and paste, but in navigation terms it means a canal or any artificial channel.
  • Draught – Whistles about when the wind blows… but also means the amount of your boat below the water.
  • Flush – not something women of a certain age may recognise but the ferocious rush of water caused by opening the paddles of a lock. Maybe the two are connected by ferocious and rush?
  • Fouling – As revolting as it sounds – the propellor which pushes the boat through the water isn’t clear or free because something is fouling it. We’ve been lucky and only needed to untangle discarded ropes, saris (fortunately not with a body attached), weeds and leaves but we’ve seen other boaters caused problems by plastic carrier bags, and mattresses with springs which are horrendous and can take days to untangle.
  • Gate – Not a five barred or garden hinged barrier but in this case the moveable door or shutter that enables a canal or river lock (see L) to work. May contain paddles (see P) allowing passage of water.
Lock gates grow all manner of plant life!
  • Gongoozler – Someone who idly stands and stares particularly at boats and with narrowboats they always congregate at locks just at the moment you forget how to operate them or steer into them! Also a wonderful Grand Union cafe (see Butty)
  • Gonguzzler – Someone who idly stands and stares but probably sees two of you and your boat as they copiously drink from cans generally alongside urban canals. Beware when they offer assistance at locks – their balance is dubious and you may have to fish them out!
  • Grounding – What parents and teachers said was essential in terms of everything from maths to manners to teach the basics. On canals it’s regularly practised and doesn’t make for perfection! It means hitting the bottom or running aground. Sometimes due to silt building up, a stretch of canal being drained or trying to moor in water that’s just too shallow.
  • Hung up – We all have hang ups but believe me you want to avoid them on a canal. Getting hung up is hugely dangerous and often leads to your boat sinking. If part of the boat catches on a gate projection in a lock or the rudder catches on the sill (see S) as the water empties, the boat can go down.
  • Interaction – Before the pandemic there was lots of sociable interaction between boaters on narrowboats which is half the fun. It is technically about your boat swinging off course because of a change in water pressure. If you pass a moving boat too fast the two boats will be drawn together in an interaction. Avoid interactions by slowing down.
  • Locks – the method of taking boats up and down hill. Locks are safe if treated with care but should always be treated with great respect. The boat goes into a chamber with a single gate (on a narrow canal) or two gates (broad canal) at either end and sluices with paddle(s) raise or lower the water.
Locks vary in size, mechanism and are always varied in location
  • Noddy Boat – Derogatory term for a very small boat or cruiser. Doesn’t need a bell or a skipper with Big Ears. Sometimes also called a yoghurt pot.
  • Paddle – The sliding door of a lock gate or other sluice, which lets water through. During lockdown we’ve seen many a different type of paddle too!
SUPs, kayaks and canoes paddle canals these days too
  • Rack – after a whole day of operating lots of locks you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve been subjected to one of these Middle Ages torture devices, so the message is don’t do too many locks in a day, and keep your onboard rack (wine) replenished for liquid rewards! Officially it means the toothed metal rod you are winding up and down when operating a lock.
  • Right – just remember you’re always right and you’ll keep to the correct side of the canal for navigation.
  • Services – nothing too fancy and often on a fortnight’s holiday you may not even need these. Each offers different services – they can have waste disposal, water for refilling and Elsan disposal. At marinas or boatyards these can include waste pump out and diesel fuel – again things that are rarely needed on holidays up to a fortnight but it depends how many people are on board.
  • Sill – not a nice window ledge for herbs but a stone bar sometimes faced with timber, against which the bottom of the lock gates rest when closed. When bringing your boat down in a lock, care must be taken to avoid getting hung up (see H) on the sill which can sink your boat.
  • Staircase A series of two or more lock chambers each of which leads directly into the next. The bottom gates of one lock form the top gates of the one below. Generally manned by wonderful CRT volunteers who are there to help every boat through.
Foxton staircase locks in Leicestershire
  • Stern – There aren’t many strict or severe individuals on the canals because we’re all very relaxed – perhaps a combination of travelling at a maximum of 4mph and replenished wine racks? We all have a stern though – the back or aft (see A) part of a boat.
  • Tie up – not in this instance a bondage term stemming from reading one of the multiple copies of Fifty Shades of Grey which have been amassed in every canalside book exchange I have visited in the past few years (that’s a delight of boating – time for reading and finding book exchanges), but a boatman’s preferred term for mooring a boat.
  • Tunnels – often excitement for younger and male boaters in my experience – often wet and drippy so wear waterproofs even in high summer. Some now have footpaths and lighting. Now navigated under engine power but in the old days boats used to be taken through by leggers who lay on top of the boat with their feet up on the tunnel roof and walked the boat through whilst the horses were led over the top.
Every tunnel is unique – inside and out
  • Visitor mooring – a good place to head for. These designated mooring spots in villages and towns allow short term mooring and are often near lovely pubs. Identify them via the Canal and Rivers trust map, or on the invaluable Canal Route Planner
  • Wind – natural digestive condition after eating lots of fibre? Means the process by which you turn your boat round. Maps indicate winding holes for this purpose. Rhymes with tinned – beans or other…
  • Windlass – an enquiry after the digestive health of a young lady who’s eaten a lot of beans? Also an essential shaped handle for operating lock paddles. The square socket fits on the spindle which operates the paddle gear. Just to confuse things in some parts it’s called a crank (we all know one of those) or a lock key. Regularly lost into locks. Regularly found by magnet fishers.
Resting my windlass whilst I wait for the lock to fill
  • Xpletives – Heard regularly on the cut at moments of stress – usually when manoeuvres are required in front of gongoozlers!
  • Zander – An international invader who may lurk under your boat depending on where you are boating – insights in detail in an earlier blog
Filleted zander and a whole fish

If you take a floating staycation this year I can’t guarantee that the many fabulous canalside pubs will all be open for us all again, but we can but hope, and maybe we’ll meet you there!

This is what we look like!

I am pretty sure (although this is the UK we are talking of) that on a canal boat holiday this summer you won’t have weather exactly like we’ve had this week – rain, sun, snow, ice, sun, rain in that order.

A view of our week – including the great first mushroom harvest!

I can guarantee that if you take a floating holiday you will be in no danger of bumping into Matt Hancock on his staycation – there are no canals in Cornwall!

If you’ve had a canal holiday do share your experiences in comments to let others know how you found it.

Coming up next week: top 10 tips for small space living

Making changes – reducing impact. Positive wins in lockdown and beyond

Hunkering down on a canal can, we’ve recognised, be a good place to be during a storm as water levels are managed in a way that’s difficult (if not impossible) on a river. We sat listening to Storm Christoph winds howling (and stealing a piece of fake grass off our roof which was protecting the metal under the coal baskets). Sitting on the same sofa we shouted conversations over the thundering rain hammering on our metal roof. We have been lucky,having heard of narrowboats being evacuated from the River Weaver in Cheshire, sinking on the River Soar in Leicestershire, and of one on the Grand Union Canal being hit by a falling tree at Linslade in Bedfordshire.

The main impacts of the storm here have been an increase in the depth and spread of mud on the towpath (our doorstep) and we have seen many more boats gathering at this convenient spot close to waste disposal and water taps. Due to the pandemic there’s little chance to get to know people but I’ve managed to do some shopping for an elderly couple on a nearby boat. She’s been unwell with a kidney infection and they had to have one of their beloved terriers put down on Thursday so it’s been a terrible week for them, and we’re trying to help at a distance.

Boats to the front of us, boats to the rear of us, boats to the side of us! The floating community is growing.

In part boats are having to gather here on the Trent and Mersey because we are effectively trapped by the rising flood waters of the River Trent which bounds the canal ahead and behind us. Ahead of us to get into the Staffordshire village of Alrewas we need to cross a section of the River Trent – currently closed to navigation because it’s in flood. Behind us there’s a block on navigation from Aston on Trent and flood gates have been closed to stop the flood waters from the River Trent adversely affecting the canal.

The circle is where we are – the red parts show where navigation is currently closed

The Trent sweeps round the opposite side of the village from the canal, so we’ve been marginally affected by a reduction in the walks we can take. Sodden footpaths and fields have turned into rivers and lakes with even small rises in the river levels. The musty smell of mud and damp has come aboard thanks to a regular pervading aroma of wet dog which follows every walk until he dries off. Watching the significant environmental impact which a tiny change can make has been food for thought. It has made me reflect that improving the world around us by reducing our own impact on the earth doesn’t have to be down to major gestures – small pebbles can make big ripples.

We have made a dramatic change to the way we live, and if you’re going to make such a change it’s obvious that going to be because you expect it to be for the better for yourself – I mean why would you make a change for the worse? It seems to me though, having met and heard from many people who have made much bigger upheavals for themselves and their families, that there is often a greater desire to make life better not only for themselves but for the world around them. In my case it’s about selfishly wanting to enjoy the life we have together but also about trying to leave the world a better place for my daughters, grandson and future generations I have yet to meet, as well as those I will never meet.

There are small things we do, like patrolling the canal bank collecting rubbish and cruising along with a fishing net (thanks for the advice Kevan Howarth) to catch waste as we make our ways along rivers and canals. (On that note – it’s astonishing how many footballs I’ve managed to hook out around Leicester, and how many cans and bottles I collect every time we go near Nuneaton.) These clear up activities incidentally support the Canal and Rivers Trust Plastics Challenge which you don’t have to be a boater to support.

For us it’s about cleaning up, not creating so much waste, and reducing the negative impact of how we live. That’s something you don’t have to dramatically change your way of living to achieve. It appears in small ways like “Bye bye shower gel and shampoo in plastic containers” and “Hello soap and shampoo bars. All bought wherever possible directly unwrapped from artisan makers ideally within walking distance.

Moving to live on a narrowboat and being continuous cruisers – dwellers permanently on the move on their boat – means living off grid. It also demands a change to how we live, how we shop and cook, and how we consume. There have been unexpected consequences of this dramatic change which make for greater satisfaction too. It’s become fascinating to see the ripple effects of a small change.

Theoretically I believe all this should mean that we are significantly reducing our impact on the environment too but are we? How on earth can we evaluate our success of low impact living? Casting around it seems there are multiple evaluation methods so it’s a question of selecting a feasible way to measure impact, recognising that not everything is going to be covered.

I was struck by a very clear climate action post from UNEP, the United Nations Environment Programme which was shared by inspirational yachtswoman and ecological campaigner Dee Caffari. Since 2017 Dee’s spearheading of Turn the Tide on Plastics has raised awareness of the impact of plastics on our oceans, waterways and lives.

As flood waters are rising, the impact on people’s lives of our changing climate is brutally apparent, so we began looking at the UNEP climate action table. There is something in here for all of us to consider for our own and future generations.

So how do we square up today?

Fly Less – thanks to the pandemic neither of us have flown since I went to speak at a conference in Riga in May 2019. Having constant (out of lockdown) changes of scene from the boat makes us realise just how much of England we have yet to explore – it’ll take us a lifetime! That makes flights in the near future highly unlikely, but if we do travel I’d be happy to take a train. If I’m honest we’ve been lucky to already see many places we have wanted to. By not flying more now, maybe we can offset opportunities for younger generations to explore the wider world. It may be a way of inspiring them to recognise the need for protecting it.

Walk and Cycle more – we have to if we want to shop or move around although for us this connects to Drive Electric. My small but petrol-using car which was used for commuting and leisure use has gone. We have kept Steve’s electric car for now. Our annual mileage is a quarter of what it was, and our pollution per mile is significantly less, we calculate somewhere around a 40th of our previous pollution. As the driven mileage goes down my walked mileage for #Red January and #Walk1000miles is rising well (100 miles so far in January). We have our bikes on board and only use the car for support duties or work.

Adopt a more plant-based diet – we had already done this, and Steve was mainly vegetarian. Now our combined diet is 95% plant based, because we enjoy it. I don’t have to worry about storing meat or it going off, or shopping daily for meat either which saves money and creates less waste. When we can, we buy from farmers’ markets or farms directly. That means when I do buy meat I directly support the producer and reduce food miles. This and our change of diet has led to us being able to tick Cut My Waste. I found this week that I can’t run a wormery on board to support this year’s roof gardening because we don’t have enough vegetable waste to keep even a small wormery going!

Most of our waste is recyclable (packaging etc) and what is not we are trying to reduce. If we can buy food without packaging we do. If we can buy direct from producers without packaging we will. But it is hard, as I’m sure you’ve found. Buying without packaging often puts the cost up and we are seeking to live on a tight budget. There are shops and markets which sell loose goods but to reach these often that means having to travel by car which seems counter intuitive. If we can use them though, we try to.

So to the last (and most significant) final two ways to reduce our impact on our climate – Get Solar and Switch my Energy. We have installed solar panels in the family house which we have let. We are saving to put 2 x 175w solar panels on the boat in the Spring (when Steve’s built up the courage to drill holes in our roof!). These will reduce the amount of diesel we use in powering the batteries that power our water and shower pumps, run our lights and charge our electronic devices.

We have moved away completely from the mainstream energy providers – they don’t supply continuous cruising towpath customers! Energy consumption is our main area we seek to cut, but we have significantly reduced the amount of energy we use – heating a 50ft narrowboat is very different from heating a 4-bed house!

Our energy currently (roll on the solar) comes from four main sources – wood, coal, diesel and gas. Foraged wood is mostly seasoned; we buy smokeless coal which is, I appreciate smokeless and not smoke free; LPG gas and red diesel. Some boats run heating and cooking on diesel or LPG but for us diesel is just for running the engine to move the boat and recharge the batteries whilst gas powers only our 4-burner hob. We do enjoy using candles for evening light – not just Hygge but at the moment I’m also using them to heat natural oils to offset the aroma of wet dog!

Candles, like this one made by our eldest daughter for us shed a gentle light on the boat as does the light of the ever present stove.

The multifuel stove is our sole form of heating and clothes drying. We also use it for cooking – it makes great baked potatoes, stews, soups, curries etc.

Foraged twigs are fire starters and when we are cruising I am inclined to throw on a log or two as I love the smell of woodsmoke, but generally we burn smokeless fuels. These have to give off less than 5grams of smoke in an hour’s burning. Compared to normal house coal they can release up to 20% less carbon dioxide. Made from anthracite they’re bound into lumps (or what the marketing people call ovals) with various smokeless binding ingredients like starch. We’ve recently been burning something the coal boat merchant advised was more eco-friendly having been bound with molasses and it certainly had a different, somewhat sweeter smell to it.

On the one not wet, windy or icy day this week we shut down the stove and cleaned the flue to maintain efficiency. As you can imagine keeping the stove working well is essential. Steve did the job with a long flue brush made for the job although people say you can do it with a bunch of holly leaves tied together on a mop or broom handle. It’s important to do it on a day without ice, partly from the reason of needing to shut down the stove but also for safety. Climbing on the metal roof on what is the water side of the boat the way we are moored, to then enthusiastically shove a long brush in and out of the chimney is not ideal if the roof and sides of the boat are slippery. Balance is essential and we could do without one of us getting drenched without the means to dry out! The stove hasn’t been drawing brilliantly for few days and we know some people clean their chimneys every fortnight in the winter….we’ve been running it almost 24/7 since November and this will be was its first clean since then!

Or on-board chimney sweep at work surrounded by wood and coal. The stove now works much better and more efficiently as a result of Steve’s hard work.

Red diesel is dyed for identification because it currently has a lesser duty to pay on it (although this is thought to be stopping). The domestic element is what incurs the lesser duty and for agricultural vehicles and boats. Diesel engines are an issue because their operation produces nitrous oxides. They are saying that within 20 years we need to stop using diesel engines on narrowboats – so it’s likely that we will need to go hybrid, hydrogen, or electric. We need to start saving for it! It would be lovely if we could move to that option sooner – whatever it may be.

Overall we’ve significantly reduced the amount we spend on energy, mainly by getting rid of a car and commuting. Throughout the Autumn and so far into Winter we’ve averaged a weekly spend of £2 on gas, £15 on coal and £10 on diesel.

Whilst not related to our ecological impact but because we’ve had lots of queries from people interested in the costs of running our boat, here’s a quick run through the other costs. We don’t pay council taxes but we do pay a CRT (Canal and Rivers Trust) annual licence to give us access to travel on canals and some rivers, waste disposal and water supplies. It is based on the length and width of the boat. It was just over £900 last year and will no doubt be higher this year.

On top of that we have generic boat insurance and breakdown cover, plus servicing and maintenance costs. It amounts to about £5000 a year to run the boat, our home, in total. We then need food (gin appears as a very welcome gift), going out, Christmas, birthdays, clothes (I am an enthusiastic secondhand shopper), vets bills, unforeseen extras and running the car. We don’t save money by living this way but it is the most expensive time of the year in terms of fuel.

In all these ways: reducing our consumption, cleaning up and reducing waste, and seeking to consume more thoughtfully we are seeking to lower our negative impact and increase our positive impact on the environment around us. The ticks look as if we’re on the right track but we recognise there’s more to do, as well as keeping up what we are doing.

Next week – a tongue in cheek induction into the language of narrow boating to get you ready for hiring a narrowboat as a brilliant summer staycation

Escaping the rat race to increase creativity, productivity and happiness

Downshifting, slow living, living in the moment – all descriptions of conscious and mindful ways of living which appear, for many, to have taken on a particular significance during the pandemic according to media reports and social media posts. So what are they? And do they describe what we have done with our lives?

Downshifting is where are people adopt long-term voluntary simplicity in their life. They accept less money through fewer hours worked in order to have time for things they consider important in life. Downshifting also places emphasis on consuming less in order to reduce our ecological footprint.

Slow living is just that – a way of living which considers speed, haste and fast isn’t always the best. It considers that aspects of working, leisure time, consumption are about thoughtful, meaningful engagement rather than rushed, often thoughtless activity.

Living in the moment is about forgetting the past or fretting about the future, but consciously making the most of the here and now.

All of these seek to make the most of life in terms of personal time and enjoyment.

From Google to Instagram thousands of individuals offer advice, personal testimony and guidance to support others to achieve their goals. Consultants seek to support the transformation, often for significant fees which rather seems to go against the principle of simplifying life and its finances! The overarching concern for me is that in order for any of us to want to seek alternative ways of working and living, there must be dissatisfaction with the current status quo. The sheer volume of internet posts from people seeking or making such changes, indicates that a large proportion of the working Western world workforce is unfulfilled or unhappy.

The pandemic has been seen as a catalyst for downshifting within the Western world. In America at the end of last year one in four women were said to be looking at downshifting according to the Women in the Workplace report. In the UK BECTU have been directing their members in the media and entertainment to career advice at this tough time. One aspect of that is devoted to health and wellbeing, and involves a really practical look at the possibilities of downshifting.

If we are to be pigeonholed for what we have done – it appears to be downshifting. The word downshifting stems from an American term for changing to a lower gear. It’s an apt description, we have reduced the speed of travel in our lives – quite literally to a speed limit of 4mph on the canals! However, although we are deliberately working less we have found downshifting effectively uplifting. We have consciously stepped off the hamster wheel of working harder, to earn more money to buy more things or experiences. Living more thoughtfully and choosing to consume less means we require less money, and thus less work to achieve our goals, giving us more time to enjoy our lives.

It’s a step I wish we’d had the courage to seek earlier, but I think it would have been much harder with school-aged children, and probably harder to achieve in the house than it is on the boat. I realise I should have listened sooner to my mother-in-law when she told me years ago to slow down! In a way Steve achieved a better balance over eight years ago when he stepped away from a high profile project management role with one of the multinational information technology giants. For him the tipping point came when increasing number of colleagues were leaving work after suffering heart attacks on the job. Some died. Some survived but it was a wake up call. It was alarming to us as a family, and discussing it over dinner one night our youngest voiced the obvious: “You need to leave then.” He resigned and after a period of time set up a property company which was about bringing in a modest income, not being greedy but recognising a turnover that was just enough.

In my case it took Covid and the first lockdown to accelerate my concerns over ways I was being required to work, far distant from the fundamental principles in which I believed. By taking direct control of my personal capacity to realise or at least strive to realise the things that matter, I feel better about myself, and my contribution to society. I have exchanged feeling disturbed and disenchanted for daily satisfaction which is motivating, inspiring and revitalising.

Both of us cutting loose has enabled our radical change in the physical constraints of living space. Living on the boat has enabled us to live more simply – in all aspects of our lives, travelling, cooking, eating, leisure time and crucially, work.

For us this means spending more time living simply, doing the things we enjoy. These are positive for our healthy, happiness, comfort, and well-being. Being able to spend a lot more time walking, running, sleeping, reading and taking time to complete hobbies is an important part of our lives. Yes, we earn less but we spend less and work less which in the past four plus months appears to have proportionally increased our satisfaction.

Living like this also enables us to try and reduce our impact on the world. We are walk more, cycle when we need to go further, shop locally within walking distance, don’t need ready meals or processed foods because we have time to cook, we have no tumble drier or washing machine using water and power, we don’t iron (phew). There is simple pleasure in making the most of what we have – fuel for example is dual purpose – it heats us and is used for cooking at the same time. Collecting twigs and fallen wood gets us out in the fresh air and at this time of the year be aware of the peaty, warm scent of old woodland.

Social media indicates that as a society this pandemic has given us all an opportunity to reconsider how we live, how we work, what we really value and what we can do without. It doesn’t seem particularly radical but common sense. How can it be radical to reduce the stresses and strains on our lives, by taking control of what we need and what we want. I hope many more people and companies will post pandemic seek to rebalance working and living to be more positive and more productive.

We have heard so much open discussion about mental health during this pandemic, and it is evident that how we feel colours our response to everything around us – our work, self belief, productivity, creativity, and ultimately or resilience, how we cope with challenges. Disenchantment and exhaustion on an apparently never-ending cycle of work, snatched leisure, coloured our lives a washed out grey. Getting a better balance (in our case a cycle of leisure with interjections of work when we need the income) brings a vivid vibrant palette into play.

So how do we live people ask us, how do we pass our days? Winter days on the boat (when allowed to move) consist of long dog walks, three hours cruising if the rain isn’t bucketing down or there’s ice on the canal, a couple of hours project work which is now pleasurable and focused, time for preparing food and the daily routine boat maintenance. The evenings give time for reading, ferocious games of Scrabble, laptop tv and conversations by the light of a blazing stove and candlelight.

Three hours cruising is sufficient in cold weather to move us on and charge the boat batteries. The distance we can travel in that time varies depending on the number of locks we need to operate en route and whether they are in our favour or not. A lock in our favour is one where a boat has come through heading towards us, leaving the lock ready for us to go straight into or with little for us to do to counteract any leakage to get it right for us. If another boat has gone through ahead of us then we take longer filling or emptying the lock before we can use it, depending on whether we are going up or down.

We tend to cruise in the winter in the mornings so we can get to a mooring in good light. It seems so strange talking about moving again having been in a single spot on lockdown for the past 19 days so far. This week though we did make a move – to the services no less and it was WONDERFUL to be out and about on the water again even if we only cruised a mile out and a mile back!

So you don’t get fancy ideas of our services – here they are – alongside a winding (pronounced like the weather) hole for turning boats. The principle is that this notch in the canal allows you to put the nose of the boat in and use the wind to help you turn. In this instance a brick built block with a water point outside, and inside a toilet – the windowsill of which is a book exchange, a separate Elsan emptying area and an outside yard space with four industrial sized rubbish bins.

Here these aren’t separated into recycling and general rubbish but in an increasing number of Canal and Rivers Trust waste disposals in Leicestershire, Warwickshire and Staffordshire we found recycling bins alongside the general bins. I wonder if it is the local authorities or CRT who make the decision – but whoever it is I hope the number of recycling bins increases to help boaters play their part in reducing waste going into landfill. I find it frustrating to have separated everything and then not have a recycling bin. On their website CRT say some sites do have fusion collections where a single collection is made and recycling is separated out at a recycling plant. It would be good if they put signs up near the bin to say that’s what they are doing. I can’t keep the recycling on board here until I find a suitable bin as I don’t have the space or know how long it will be before we can move thanks to the lockdown.

We are allowed under the regulations to leave our mooring and head for the services and we gleefully did! Filled up with water, emptied rubbish and loo cassettes, and then winded. In this instance we weren’t helped by a strong wind going the wrong way so it wasn’t a 3-point turn! We then headed back past where we had been moored to the next point where we could wind again, putting us back facing the right way. On the way back we moored and cleared some old fallen wood and litter we had spotted on dog walks before returning to almost the same spot we had left. We actually moved a couple of feet to avoid a really muddy patch which had developed over the weeks.

It felt ridiculously exciting to be on the move, a real treat, even for a tiny moment of escape. It made me realise how much I appreciate the peripatetic lifestyle with regular new places and views. Even a moment was liberating and makes me realise in this lockdown how important for us all, whatever our circumstances, to create moments of change. Wind in my face, a sense of freedom, and in the centre of the cut being certainly more than 2 meters from the crowds on the towpath! It is great to see the towpaths being so well used with walkers, some with dogs, some not, cyclists, joggers, serious runners, though it does change the nature of the surfaces just outside our front door! It has been so varied in this last week from crisp and snowy to slushy and now mud, mud…plus flooding around the nearby River Trent.

Crisp snowy towpath with walking boots, dog paws and bird tracks replaced by mud…inglorious mud!
Floods are making walks shorter – the before and after pictures show what a change it’s made to the scenery

So we’re back in situ again, full of water for a couple of weeks, empty of waste (we walk waste back and forth rather than moving the boat every couple of days). We also have a stack of twigs and some larger pieces of fallen wood which we now have time to saw up and season. Wood foraging may not seem interesting or important but it is vital to keeping us warm, keeping costs down and also helping us do our bit for the environment around us. It’s hugely satisfying seeing the results of our efforts.

We’ve had really mixed weather but are able to make the most of beautiful clear day with sunshine that was even warm in the sheltered spots. A long muddy walk was glorious for all of us complete with the treat of coffee and delicious cake from The Narrowboat Tearoom which we found moored en route. Glad for my waistline that I’m doing RED January and the Walk 1000 miles in 2021!

A business started last year as a tour boat serving teas has, through necessity, become a take away and its proving very popular

During the days of significant rain we have concentrated on jobs we want to do inside the boat. Steve’s mopped out the bilges, I have been writing next to the stove, and I’ve been learning from YouTube how to paint canal art roses.

I also managed to finish the rag rug I started before the last lockdown made from our old sports race tee shirts from races and donations from friends and family – thanks Emma and Freya! It has been met with approval I am glad to say. Tempted now to wait until charity shops open to find some old curtains to make another rug or two.

Supporting one of the local coffee shops here I also picked up an appropriate new addition to the boat this week which perfectly sums up downsizing for me.

Have you changed your work/life balance? How do you do it? How’s it gone? We’d love to hear your stories as well as your comments on our experience so far.

Next week: Low Impact Living. What is it? How are we doing? Can it be done?

Taking control of our space and feeling better for it

Lurching from wishing each other a better New Year in 2021 to immediately plunging into Lockdown 3 has been depressing. Liveaboard boaters have been advised to travel minimally, moving only to services like water, waste disposal or shopping. We’ve decided to act in a way we feel is supporting the wider community, but it doesn’t stop me feeling immensely frustrated watching boats moving past. Or having boaters call out questioning why we are staying put when we have a boat and a canal and the capacity to move. It’s a reflection of what’s happening in every community – most are sticking to the rules but a minority refuse to, making life harder and potentially more dangerous for all.

It is hard at such times to think positively . It also feels as if we have little that we can control (perhaps that’s why the rule breakers act as they do – they see it as taking back control). Being so close to nature living on the water has helped, as have daily walks with the dog. As he pauses to sniff at all the exciting smells around him, I have time to really look around. In the last week I have become aware of the new growth and new life beginning all around us. Whatever is going on with the pandemic and the virus, politics or inoculation, life is sprouting, often unnoticed. Nature is continuing its cycle just as it has through previous pandemics, wars and crises. That is not only positive but comforting.

Whilst I love having the wildness and constant changes of nature around me, this year I do want to have my own garden on the boat too, to add to the greenery around us. So just as gardeners across the country have begun to plan at this time of year, I have begun planning this year’s challenge – a garden on a 50ft steel box. Our downshifting lifestyle should enable more time for gardening and growing our own. This planning and preparation is also a way I can exercise control over an area of my life that the current restrictions cannot curb.

We do have a few plants already, inside and on top of the boat – the heathers still bring a welcome splash of colour to the roof.

In the cratch we are trying to grow mushrooms (a welcome Christmas present) but we’re not sure whether they have been frozen in recent days… hope springs eternal though so maybe as things warm up they will sprout!

An amaryllis that was fabulous last year when we lived in a house is beginning to sprout onboard having been left outside until a couple of weeks ago but I have no idea where to put it when it does flower – it was enormous last year! We will have to put it on the dining table because that’s the only place with the right height which could mean we need to use small plates for meals whilst we enjoy its blooms!

On the right is how I worked through Lockdown 1 with the amaryllis towering over my computer. The puzzle box got the screen to the right height and kept me amused! On the left is Lockdown 3 growth in a cracked Ogham alphabet bowl I made years ago in Ireland.

Planning and selecting outside plants is exciting. Advance thought is vital this year because I need to source containers, seeds, plants, leaf mould and soil etc. I am once again upcycling and recycling tin cans, egg boxes and yoghurt pots,as planters/potato chitting/seed beds respectively.

Vegetables that bring an element of self sufficiency combined with splashes of colour (ideally from edible flowers) are my main aims for this year. This does though need to be balanced – quite literally! I’ve never considered the weight balance of my garden before but the weight of containers, irrigated soil and plants needs to be considered to keep the boat level in the water.

Other considerations are wind and height. Everything on the roof will be subject to wind damage being unprotected in the main (although I have seen old net curtains used as wind breaks). We can’t have anything higher than about 18 inches to avoid interfering with the skipper’s view or being knocked off the boat by low bridges or high winds! Is that 18 inches including growth? Will plants cope with brushing against bridges? Ah well, we will find out!

Aspect is another consideration – the roof garden will never be pointing in a particular direction all the time, and being a metal roof there’s a danger of roasting roots in summer. Additionally in the summer we tend to moor for shade to cool the boat down…

Two Christmas presents look like being immensely valuable in helping grow essentials easily this year – a potato bag and a strawberry/herb bag.

Having had great success with potato bags on land I just need to find a suitable location. I am in negotiations with the Skipper about putting it on the foredeck (sounds grand but it’s the teeny weeny bit of deck at the very front of the boat). It will have to share the space with ropes that are used almost daily and not interfere with the water tank filler. It also gets the brunt of the wind as we cruise along.

I think salad potatoes will be fine if I can make sure they have air underneath, between the bag and the deck and can secure the bag so it won’t fall off if I catch it with ropes or the hose. I have an old egg box ready to chit seed potatoes next month and am looking at growing a proven familiar variety like Charlotte.

Above the potatoes I’d like to attach a half hanging basket as a fixed container for tumbling cherry tomatoes -something like Red Profusion perhaps.

I have seen some amazing floating gardens. The area with most tall plants on the lower levels is the very area where we sit out and on a small boat like ours we (and visitors when we can welcome them aboard) need and enjoy that essential space!

My plans need to be a bit more modest for year one. Bucket planters on the top would be fine with Steve at the tiller but the way I steer the boat they wouldn’t stand a chance!

I am looking to build two small planters for the roof out of current supermarket plastic bread trays. At the moment they contain coal sacks and wood but by the time I need two of them we should be into warmer weather! If I set them centrally they should centre the weight and not cause any problems of the boat tipping. It may be that for this first year I can use growbags inside them which may help me get things started.

Wherever I position the garden it needs to be out of the way of the centreline rope/s which are fixed on a midpoint on the roof. They are in continuous use when cruising for holding the boat for mooring, in locks etc. This means anything on the boat needs to be ahead or behind these whether on the roof or the sides! I am thinking where we currently have coal /wood will work because I haven’t yet knocked that off with ropes, bridges or winds! I will need mats for air/drainage underneath as I need to protect the roof but I have mats and fake grass offcuts under most of the current stuff on the roof.

Black breads baskets destined as raised beds and the snaking centreline rope. Having two ropes, one for each side may help

I thought of piercing tin cans, painting them up in bright colours, and hanging them somehow from the grab rail to give me plants at the sides of the boat, again in places where I hope not to demolish them with ropes!

So garden buffs out there – what do you think of the overall plan for thrillers, spillers and fillers! Mainly edible but with as much added color as possible.

Thrillers – tumbling cherry tomatoes at the front of the boat in a half basket, fragrant rosemary with its blue flowers in a corner of a bread basket and bright, fun snapdragons perhaps hanging in tins?

Spillers – cascading strawberries in my brilliant gifted container on the roof together with bright yellow marigolds for colour and to keep the bugs away, and more colour in nasturtiums, thyme and maybe sweet peas tumbling from tins?

Fillers – parsley, stumpy carrots, sugar snap peas and low beans, accompanied by cutting lettuce leaves and radishes, spinach and basil in bread baskets, and scented geraniums in tins. I love rainbow chard but Steve won’t eat it so there isn’t much point in growing it just for me. Potatoes too come in this section.

We use a lot of onions and garlic but it seems to me they’ll take up too much of our already limited space. Am I wrong?

A welcome gift of of wildflower seeds will be scattered among the bread basket beds so we can enjoy them this year. If I harvest their seeds to scatter along our route others can enjoy them too in future years.

Gardeners out there – what have I missed that might work, and what have I put in that will struggle? DIY enthusiasts – any ideas of how to suspend the tin can planters so they look good and stay safe?

Taking control of our environment at a time when never-ending restrictions seem to alter how we live is important and liberating. Looking at the list of things I need to take into account it’ll be interesting to see if I can actually grow anything! We can but wait and see – it’ll be fun trying!