Frightening fire onboard! Treats and making a living afloat.

The small 24 ft fibreglass cruiser behind us had a fire onboard on Sunday afternoon. The first I knew was clouds of what looked like yellow smoke billowing across the towpath – it turned out to be powder from a discharging fire extinguisher.

You can see how close the cruiser was to us – that’s our tiller and ropes. The powder on the towpath is all that’s left of the drama outside the boat. Onboard I gather it’s a different story and the owner took bags of damaged interior to the bins.

The new boater on board fortunately was OK and so was his boat. He attempted to fill up his methanol stove without realising the pilot was alight, and inevitably things caught light. That resulted in him automatically throwing the flaming fuel from him, setting fire to more of the boat. He was extremely lucky, managed to get everything out not into the water but the towpath and followed up with a fire extinguisher. Raised heart rates all round but fortunately no one injured and Misspent 1 remains afloat.

I’ve gone round and checked our fire blanket and fire extinguishers as a result as I think have most of us along the canal here after Sunday – a salutary reminder to do so.

Do you remember trips to your parents and coming away with the car laden with food? Sometimes it’s nice to know some things don’t change, even when you totally change the way you live! Steve was away at the weekend on essential duties allowed in lockdown but returned on Sunday after the drama was over with a huge basket of goodies – thank you Mum! We will enjoy a delicious weekend of Easter treats.

No £20 challenge this week!

The sun which followed a quick flurry of snow this week has been welcome. Coming with March 29 lifting of restrictions it’s led to so many more smiling people catching up with family and friends on this already busy towpath. The nearby Mercia Marina must be emptying a bit too from the steady stream of boats of all shapes and sizes emerging.

Walkers, boaters, paddle boarders, canoeists, kayakers , runners and cyclists alike have enjoyed the abundance of riches on offer within a mile of our current mooring at Willington. Towpath traders make a towpath walk a delightful and a vibrant experience at the moment. Of course it’s ever-changing as boats move on and new traders arrive.

To our left we currently have Alan and Tina on nb Wobbly with ice creams, fudge and soon – candy floss. Their ice creams have just launched for the season and as discerning tasters we, friends and family can vouch for their utter deliciousness. They aim to be in a flotilla of narrowboats later this year travelling across The Wash, and maybe serving ice creams en route!

Wobbly ice creams also provided us some April Fools’fun on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram (pickingupducks and personal accounts. Some people were keen to know more about zero calorie, non drip ice cream!

Their fudge is available in a multitude of flavours – great for taking on a long walk or enjoying at home. Candyfloss is new for them this year and will be up and running as soon as the dome arrives that stops the boat and its inhabitants (Alan, Tina, 2 cats and a collie) being pebble-dashed with spun sugar.

To our right we’ve been grateful for Sylvie and Ben and their dog Badger on The Holm Oak. They enable us all to be more sustainable and knowledgeable with their eco friendly household and beauty products and well researched information. They offer many products in refill form which is brilliant and provide bottles if you can’t. We now have several once empty gin bottles with new labels saying – not to have with tonic – as they contain eco friendly washing up liquid or washing liquid! (I’ve stocked up in case we don’t see them for months…and it gave purpose to several empty bottles).

Sylvie also makes beeswax wraps and covers, and after April 12 will be selling her unique handcrafted clothing and bunting which we first encountered after Lockdown 2. Between them this enterprising couple also create beautiful handcrafted wood and macrame plant shelves and hangers. They are heading to Fradley for Easter weekend and then perhaps onto the Shroppie heading for Llangollen when restrictions permit. When you find them make sure to see their amazing feature window crafted from oak by Ben and finished with stained glass panels which they made under the guidance of former boater and glass expert Bonnie Brooksbank at her Purple Stained Glass Studio in Loughborough. Bonnie’s workshops are fabulous – I personally highly recommend them. Like me, you will find you can make things you never imagined under her skilled tutelage.

See nb Holm Oak Trading’s website or social media for details of their next locations.

For a while, moored near Holm Oak was the cafe boat Holly recently started up by Joanna and Victor Gould. Their YouTube channel means thousands have already had a taste of their life if not yet of Jo’s great cakes and coffee.

Half a mile further on past an oak wood towards the white metal footbridge over the canal to Mercia Marina is the mooring of Boat Street. This is a cafe boat with hot food, cakes, snacks, hot and cold drinks and trips too. Chris and Kim have backgrounds in the esports sector and NHS. They’ve made a huge success of their cafe business despite the pandemic which put an abrupt halt to their trip enterprise. Our loyalty card with them is well used and their Cumberland sausage rolls are already justifiably legendary. They will be the one boat we’ve encountered who will still be trading in the same spot – all of the others need to move on once lockdown finishes but this is Chris and Kim’s base. They are trialling a new location this week just into the marina which looks like a great place.

Boat Street – Cola’s favourite traders and ones who have given a lift to our Lockdown

As soon as lockdown allows, with their boat master, Boat Street will be running licenced, catered trips – they’re already taking bookings. I can’t think of a more relaxed way to get together with family or friends you haven’t seen for a while on a boat, gently cruising the Trent and Mersey Canal, out of Mercia Marina, along through Willington, over the historic and beautiful Dove Aqueduct to Horninglow Basin and back. It’s one way to meet up with family and friends – you don’t need to get wet or cold, or sit draped in blankets and the boat can take 2 groups of 6 or one group of 12 in a Covid secure way.

By their very nature, floating traders are always changing as they come and go. There hasn’t been so much of that during lockdown but movement is now underway. Latest arrivals have included nb Yorkshire Lass with an astonishing array of fenders, doormats, rope dog toys and an assortment of creatures. We spotted snakes, spiders, snails, and dogs!

It’s been a real positive of lockdown, having all these trading boats on the towpath around us. Not only have we been able to buy their goods but we’ve really enjoyed getting to know may of the traders themselves – fascinating people whose enthusiasm and passion is infectious.

Empty gin bottle update: Thanks to responses from last week and Holm Oak Trading we now have 2 x candle holders, 1 eco washing up liquid container, 1 eco washing liquid container and 1 fairy light holder. I would add these are bottles collected over recent years – not just the last 6 months living aboard!

Coming up next week: Lasting lessons of and from nature. An exciting new major purchase -will it change our life on board? And our last week in lockdown at Willington.

Highs, Lows, Lessons and Stats: 6 months on

Six months into casting off tethered lives… the three of us (2 x 2-legged and 1 x 4-legged) are still afloat and healthy.

This week however – brought a disaster. On Monday I couldn’t trust myself to speak to Steve despite the fact he had managed an awesome 20-mile virtual race the day before. Instead of congratulating him I was intent on not yelling at him.

It was an accident, him hurling my carefully prepared box with personal items out of storage, gifts and items for the roof garden including a tub of new plant food, solar lights and glass watering globes into the local tip. An extreme way of downsizing? It’s expensive to replace those bits we can, and frustrating about the things we can’t but que sera… these things happen.

Six months ago my sister asked if we didn’t find boat living claustrophobic and I somewhat smugly answered: “No, because there’s so much accessible outside space.” This week we found out just how far away from each other you can get even on a 50ft boat when you need space! Adapting to new dimensions has been part of the change to our lives.

Steinbeck was right when he said: “It’s a hard thing to leave any deeply routine life, even if you hate it.” We humans are creatures of habit. It is hard to leave the apparent safety of routine, the daily job, the bricks and mortar house, and the comfortable life resulting from decades of hard work. The big things were hard to make decisions but easier to leave than the small often material things. I think that’s the reason I over-reacted to the accidental hurling of items I associated with past life. Now I realise the things I needed can be replaced, and everything else is retained in my memory – until I forget everything when it won’t matter anyway. So I have calmed down – and more importantly apologised!

Running away?

It’s interesting how people have reacted to our move. Other boat dwellers consider us normal (well, as normal as any of us are). In the past six glorious months we have met many different people living permanently on their boats. From retired to young people living on narrowboats is an affordable way to get a home of their own. We though weren’t in that situation, and those who don’t live ‘on the cut’ full-time have expressed horror, incredulity, considered us brave or foolhardy and there’s also been a response which delighted us just when I thought we were becoming boring old bods, ‘Wow – only Deena and Steve would do that…’

Our youngest gave us pause for thought with her brilliant card – were we actually running away? The answer is yes – not from our children or any problems but from a toxic worklife balance and monotony.

I am personally grateful for the pandemic in that it brought a me up short to question how we were living and how I was working. Reflection and decision was made easier because of a sudden change of routine. I realised it didn’t matter where I was physically – with internet access I had the potential to continue working from wherever I chose.

Steve has run his property business from home for the past 8 years, and in lockdown 1 had to contend with me invading his space but we realised this worked. We both enjoyed being together 24/7… we realised that if we simplified our lives and reduced our outgoings then we could perhaps survive in a different way, keeping the essentials of daily life we were appreciating. Downshifting means we need less money and I have returned to a freer freelance existence.

The best things in life really are free. That’s something else the pandemic has taught me – what matters are moments that take your breath away, that make you smile or laugh out loud. They come from nature, from those you love and sometimes from strangers. It is also handy to have enough money for the occassional g&t! (A gin fairy, birthdays, mothers’ day, Christmas and plentiful sloe foraging has helped gin stocks so far!). Any ideas for recycling gin bottles???

Part of the change involved considering our family home as a resource rather than a tie. We turned it into an asset bringing income to support our different life.

Getting boat ready

So where to live? Three years ago we released an early element of pension and on a whim following a couple of enjoyable family holidays afloat we bought a 50ft narrowboat from Rugby Boats (highly recommend them if you’re looking). We had her base plate totally replated with steel (to avoid a soggy bottom), blacked (protection) and replaced an inadequate propellor. We also had the Morso Squirrel stove made usable and safe which was a significant cost.

The aim was to use her as a family boat for high days and holidays. We began to change the interior for that use, reducing the kitchen area, taking out the full sized grimy cooker and replacing it with a hob; increasing the living area to include a gateleg table and chairs; building in a sofa bed with storage to give space for 6 to sit and eat together (handy really given the rule of 6 which emerged during the year). Then came The Plan – to live on her full time…

The moment Lockdown 1 lifted so we could go to the boat, Steve began frenetic renovations on board helped by a family friend on periodic furlough who sanded and painted rust spots, skirting and shelves whilst I worked out my three months notice from home. Steve dug out the old rusty and rotten waste tank on the boat (a revolting job), installed a new walk in shower, basin, flushing cassette toilet, akitchen sink, and laid a floor. He installed the hob and built the sofa bed.

Before on the left and now on the right – left doesn’t include any of our ‘stuff’ but the right does!
Before on the left and after centre and right.

The eventual move onboard was a mad dash – to avoid being trapped on land by the impending, much heralded Lockdown 2… followed by a dash down the Leicester Line of the Grand Union to avoid being locked down close to our former home! We actually made it as far as the Ashby Canal before Lockdown 2.

Life afloat

Our first night on board as continuous cruisers was 19 September on the River Soar . Early the next morning, in the dark, the dog fell overboard. Disaster was averted thanks to using a towel as a hoist, something we’ve learned to adopt when in need of lifting said spaniel. My dressing gown though never recovered…

Rivers generally make for more excitement than canals, especially when starting to flood. There are multiple questions that keep you on edge:

  • how high will the waters rise?
  • will we be able to get off the boat?
  • will our mooring ropes hold? or in my case – will my often-rubbish knots hold?
  • on an almost hourly basis asking what’s the indicator showing? is it red or still on amber?
  • if the indicator goes to red and navigation is stopped how long will it be for?
  • will we escape a lockdown only to be trapped by a flooddown?
  • is it possible to shoot resulting rapids in a 15 ton narrowboat?

Rising river levels put paid to my aim of mooring back near our family for Christmas. It proved a good thing because we have had excitement and adventure on the canals too. These include discovering the shower tray angle was sending water into the bathroom and not down the plug hole (messy and resolved by shifting ballast), springing a leak from our water tank (messy, worrying and finally resolved in Lockdown 2), being trapped by a breach in the Ashby Canal (Lockdown 2) and being trapped in a live military firing range… if you missed these – nip back into past blogs!

We’ve invested in new ropes, new batteries and this week the excitement of NEW SOLAR PANELS which Steve fitted while I worked. ( I thought it would be appreciated if I stayed out the way so he could crack on in peace but all I could hear was people stopping and talking to him. People are sociable on towpaths – walkers and boaters alike. He also had to rescue another boater who’s diy project went overboard!).

Stages of going solar

We’ve encountered iced ropes and iced canals, snow, sunshine, winds, rain and mud – lots and lots of mud. We’ve been touched by the constant caring admonitions to stay warm – usually these arrive as we’re down to tee shirts because our stove works so well!

Life in all weathers

We’ve moored in rural isolation, on the edge of towns, on busy towpaths, and in a marina. We’ve used mooring chains, nappy pins, pegs and rings.

We’ve enjoyed meeting coal boats and coffee boats, a floating eco shop, a talented spinner and wood crafter, an ice cream boat and dozens of sociable dog walkers.

The highs of living afloat

HIGHS:

  • a different, somewhat Circadian pace of life
  • sleeping for more hours a night than I have ever managed before
  • enjoyment of moving slowly (outside lockdown) and gently (unless I steer)
  • constantly changing sight and scenes
  • meeting new people with the realisation that if you like your neighbours you can stay a while or travel on together (lockdowns permitting) but equally if you don’t like them then you can just untie your ropes and move on
  • time to delight in small pleasures like the patterns sunshine on the water make on the boat’s polished wood ceiling and watching dancing flames in the fire
  • closeness to nature and the elements – I’m more aware of the daily changes wrought by the seasons than ever before
  • daily anticipation, adventure and discoveries
  • being thinned, healthier and as a friend described us “sickeningly de-stressed”

Lows of living afloat

LOWS:

  • not being able to see or have family and friends on board
  • not being able to move thanks to lockdown
  • springing a leak (but a high because we fixed it!)
  • the tiny old fridge with its freezer shelf which doesn’t work well means buying fresh good more often which is proving costly – it’s on the saving up for list.
  • still not having mastered a solution to clothes washing. Hand washing and reliance on family cannot go on for much longer. It’s our next project – to devise a sustainable solution.

Lessons learned from living this way

Steve – learned more about the boat. He had time to explore it in ways that he probably wouldn’t have done so quickly otherwise. Has had time to see how it was originally built and how it’s been adapted, changed and altered over the years.

Me – whenever something’s going to go wrong, it will be in front of the maximum audience (even on the Suez Canal it appears!). If it’s going to go right there’s never a soul to see. It is good to be reminded of how adaptable and resourceful we can be and enjoy being so. Feeling calm, relaxed, energised and making every day count.

What would we change?

Ben Lount from @HolmOakTrading said to us last week when we were buying out eco refills from their boat: “You have to be a doer to live on the water”, and it’s so true. We are doers and enjoing doing things so we wouldn’t change the emptying of bins, the emptying of the loo, the washing up or the carrying shopping to wherever we are moored.

There are things that we find slightly odd – having a stove in the middle of the boat would help heat both ends more quickly, and the side hatch opening onto the bathroom is a little tricky at times when you want the hatch open and privacy too but they are a small price to pay for the life we have.

I would love to change the mud but before next winter I am planning an outside bootscraper with brushes and better dirt trapper mats inside! We are preparing to live differently on the boat as summer comes. We decided spring equinox was the official time to remove the Perspex secondary double glazing. It means we can see out clearly now, or will do when I have finished cleaning windows!

The black line indicates our journey to date. Blue lines indicate return journeys on the same stretch.

Statistics to date – even with two lockdowns when we haven’t moved

  • Travelled a total of 193 miles, 1.75 furlongs [132 miles 6.5 furlongs on narrow canals, 46 miles 6.5 furlongs of broad canals and 13 miles 4.5 furlongs of river]
  • Navigated 95 locks [47 narrow and 48 broad] this included the staircases at Foxton and Watford
  • Moved 6 bridges (the moveable ones fortunately)
  • 41 aqueducts or underbridges
  • Cruised 3 miles 2.5 furlongs underground through 5 tunnels – Saddington (880 yards), Husbands Bosworth (1166 yards), Crick (1582 yards), Braunston (2042 yards), Newbold (250 yards)
  • Journeyed on 7 canals – Grand Union, Oxford, Coventry, Ashby, Birmingham & Fazeley, Coventry detached portion (I kid you not), Trent & Mersey
  • Cruised on one river – the Soar navigation – and one Line – the Leicester Line
  • Took in two Arms – Market Harborough and Welford

We are steadily confirming our new life…we registered not only with the CRT as continuous cruisers but now posterity will see us living on nb Preaux as recorded in the 2021 census…thanks to volunteers bringing a code to access the form.

It’s been a surprisingly eventful and enjoyable six months – what will the next six have in store? We aim for Lancashire, Yorkshire, back to the Soar for August’s Mountsorrel Revival and then into London for October! Will we make it? Stay with us to find out and feel free to share with others who might like to join the journey.

Living by our mottos

Next week: Keeping afloat financially – a look at some of the many ways people are earning a living on the water.

Springing forward and spring cleaning

On the water, the towpaths and in the wider world outside there is a sense of movement all around us – even if we are still static, until at least 12 April it appears! To avoid intense frustration building up we are taking action.

It’s been a busy week for us both workwise but amid everything the vernal (fresh, new) or spring equinox has arrived at long last. Across the globe they mark the point where day and night are almost equal in duration (equi: equal nox: night), unlike solstices which mark longest (June) and shortest days (December).

Leaf buds are appearing along the towpath on what looked like scrubby land between the increasing line of boats and the railway. Trees which since we arrived in December have been patterned only by lichen, snow and ice. Now a vibrant green hue is emerging, highlighting the ends of branches.

Violets, aconites and a ladybird – surely signs of better times ahead?

Mallard are pairing up along the canal, signalling their interest in each other by the rhythmic head bobbing of courtship. The ducks are looking for suitable spots or already building their carefully cached nests. Other birds too are nesting. As I swept out yet more dog hair from the boat this week a robin eagerly pounced and flew off with the black fluff dangling from its beak. Those who missed out, magpies or small sparrows, are constantly flying back and forth with varying lengths of twigs, moss plucked from the side of the canal or scraps of wool from the nearby fields of sheep and lambs. Along by the Dove Aqueduct we stood watching vibrant coloured male goldfinches with their red masks and hazard warning yellow and black striped wings as they sing “teLLIT-teLLIT-teLLIT”. Next time I will try for a photo which isn’t a blur!

Along the towpath the peculiar tornado shapes of butterbur are opening their tiny pink flower spikes next to the water. These exotic looking plants are easily to spot now when there’s little else around them. Their leaves are beginning to appear too. These will grow huge, and heart-shaped. People used to use these leaves to wrap butter in the past. Extracts of the rhizomes were used for treating headaches, hay fever and in Japan the young buds of their native variety are apparently delicious fried in temura batter. I haven’t been tempted… but maybe next year?

Butterbur

In the past seven days we seem to have had a month’s worth of weather in each 24 hours. Sunshine, warmth, high winds, hail with stones that whiten the paths, gentle breezes and torrential rain which makes for more mud underfoot and paw.

At night the winds bend the trees which we hear creaking along with our mooring ropes have made me fearful not only for my plants on the roof, but for the newly constructed nests. By day the birds, like this female blackbird joyfully puddle-bathing just outside the kitchen window, bring positives to even a muddy towpath.

We managed a spring clean inside during the showers, and outside during a gap in the downpours. We fish out rubbish with our net when travelling, and we’ve been doing that for anything drifting past us whilst we’ve been moored too. Steve was delighted to have his rubbish netting skills caught on camera by Joanna Gould as she and Victor brought Zero back from the water point the other day! He appears at 8 mins 37 apparently!

This week though there’s been little floating debris so we headed on land towards Findern clutching gloves, grabber and bin sacks to collect stuff spotted on walks. We rapidly gathered so much that we had to beg another bin sack from Boat Street, a cafe boat moored near the marina. A quick litter pick whilst walking is something we’ve tried to do wherever we are moored for a while. Let’s be honest we do hope this 3-4 month mooring is the longest we will have have to spend anywhere so this litter pick seemed like preparation for a farewell!

Some of the biggest rubbish culprits wherever we go are dog owners. If we’re out walking our dogs surely we all want to be enjoying the countryside we walk in and preserving it for others to enjoy. Putting dog poo in plastic bags and then discarding them all over the place, hanging in trees or on hedges – WHY???

On the plus side in the hedgeline of the oak wood we came across a very nice intact Fevertree gin glass – that’s been recycled I’m glad to say…sadly no gin was to be found. Cola did his bit too… fishing an old cat food tin from the canal and retrieving discarded cauliflower leaves which he found somewhere…just hope he didn’t nip onto a boat for them!

Gin glass doing duty after a good wash and Cola trying to see out after picking up discarded cauliflower leaves

We collected the usual haul of cans and bottles plus half a plastic garden chair, a lot of pens, sweet wrappers, and plastic containers of all sizes. Steve took the bags to the boaters’ bins at Willington.

Spring cleaning and preparation for what comes next also led us on a walk we wanted to do but which has been partly underwater until now by floodwaters from the Trent.

The footpath finger post has been indicating quite a swim as waters rose higher and higher since January

Crossing the original 1839 toll bridge would have cost a toll of 2d for us both back in the day. When it opened the engineer who designed it had to pay compensation to Mr Pearsall, the operator of the ferry which provided the previous crossing.

Finally we were able to follow the footpath fingerpost along the now lush well-watered fields beside the Trent. Turning alongside a gaggle of Canada geese grazing happily and as ever noisily, we moved away from the river over a series of stiles before coming back to the glistening, gleaming waters on a final bend where the river has carved the sandy soil to take part of the field away. At this point we began climbing up through sprung gates and stiles to the back of Repton, with a view right over the valley to the vast Toyota factory complex at Derby.

Repton this week has a completely different feel to that when we first encountered it because the public school that dominates the village is open again. The whole village looks and sounds different. Shrill commanding whistles blast from sports pitches and on the paths and pavements, navy-uniformed groups of boys or girls (one or the other, never together it seemed) chatter in groups as they walk.

The school was founded in 1557 on land that once housed a Benedictine Abbey and an Augustinian Priory. Its motto Porta Vacat Culpa (the gate is free from blame) from Ovid’s Book of Days or Fasti, is apparently inspired by the remains of the Priory gatehouse. I much prefer Steve’s translation of the motto “You’re to blame for leaving the door open!” Former pupil Roald Dahl would probably have agreed with him – he said wrote that school days were filled with fear and censure. His novel Boy draws on his time at Repton. Boazers and fagging were made bearable by positives like the unique Corkers, a delightfully eccentric master who only pretended to teach maths. Maybe Dahl was one of the schoolboys who sought to decorate the top of the famous Market Cross. Newspaper reports over the centuries tell of chamberpots, underwear and more recently traffic cones adorning its ball-shaped top.

Whilst we are still here, spring cleaning, walking and keeping track of all the changes happening in nature around us feels energising and even exhausting after a particularly subdued winter. This year we are all being tracked too with the census which happens every decade. It’s proving a bit more complicated on water than it ever has on land!

The census provides data about the population but also a moment of reflection as to what will be shown to future generations of our family by this recording. This is our first census as continuous cruisers. It is also is the first when both our daughters are living independently and the first time our grandson will be recorded for posterity.

For the first time this is going to be a census primarily online. Foolishly I thought that meant it would make it easier being cast adrift from the norms of postal addresses, letterboxes etc. Wrong! We are told to call for an access number to enable you to complete the census online and that’s where the”fun” starts… Steve being organised took it upon himself to get our access code before the census night of 21 March even though boaters have been told we can officially complete on any night between 20 and 23. He’s now spent something in the region of 4 hours according to his phone records trying to get the number and as of this moment we are no nearer. We await promised return calls… or the arrival of a census officer calling on moored boats. Will we get access to complete or a £1,000 failure to complete fine? Watch this space as they say!

Next week: Highs, lows and lessons of our first six months as continuous cruisers… and a floating census update

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