Warning – chains, treats, images of underwear and a shoe crisis

I am cursing Boris…for a variety of reasons, but in this instance for forcing me to struggle through 12 bloody-minded locks in drizzle which turned to a downpour in a bid to escape his threatened lockdown and travel somewhere – anywhere!

In the right order too, the locks from into, through and out of Leicester and from river to canal.

We did it. We…

1.Beat Boris’s anticipated lockdown although like many I am weeping tears of confusion over the tiers confusion. I feel likely to breach the rules through ignorance rather than intent.

2. Made it off the river to the canal – makes flooding more unlikely although not impossible but increases the chances of being left aground by drained pounds and leaks… ah well…

3. Have dry clothes thanks to a daughter with washing machine and dryer and a cunning system over the stove which works well at night. If it’s up in the day we keep getting slapped in the face by wet whatever’s! Now moving further from family so we need to become self sufficient on the washing and drying front…

Latest lessons learned… Always put on waterproofs at the first sign of rain or you end up putting them on over damp clothes…Don’t believe media or political PR hype over what the Government might do next…Take your time with trials that are a battle, going slowly might mean you spend longer in the rain but slow and sure works best…Keep a Thermos for instant hot drinks between locks – quick comforts count!

My new slow cooker is a multi-tasking delight.

The boat has a Morso Squirrel on board. It was here when we bought the boat, and has had considerable work this year to get it safely working well.

As a result it heats the boat (we have no central heating which may prove interesting in the depths of winter, and reduce visitors); it dries clothes (in small quantities as you have seen – apologies); and simultaneously produces warming treats of beautifully baked potatoes and full meals – what more could we ask?

It is also hugely relaxing to watch the patterns of dancing flames as evening falls.

Autumn in chains

On the subject of relaxation and treats we both had birthdays this week and indulged in buying ourselves some chains we’ve wanted for a while.

The nervous among you need not panic – this is nothing risqué – they hold the boat when mooring on piling. We find them much easier than the previous nappy pins we used to use (sure there is a more technical term…).

Mooring in the rain or cold is now quicker.

This really has been a time crammed with treats, new experiences and excitement. Our first time paying for overnight mooring – resulting in no mud walkways, wharf side showers, toilets, electricity all the time – thanks to Union Wharf at Market Harborough. Leisure cruising as we know it owes its existence to this delightful market town. Seventy years ago the Inland Waterways Association was launched at this compact Wharf. Now it’s a hub for holiday boats which are proving a popular staycation option in 2020. We found the holiday boat Spotted Wren housing some friends of ours – a lovely surprise.

The week brought Zoom and MS teams meetings as well as virtual visitors to the boat. Some of the latter brought wine (always welcome) and a certain very special small visitor brought another new perspective to our ever-changing life. He devoured the duck bread, gave us a fabulous excuse to jump in puddles, indulge in a steam train ride, and enjoy lots of singing.

Another highlight was a Michelin-starred dinner courtesy of our family Fab 4 and the amazing John’s House – an incredible experience and taste sensation.

Somehow we snaffled time to walk another section of the 100 mile Leicestershire Round. We are slowly walking our way along it all.

The dog finds water wherever he goes – the lead is attached so I can get him out!

We finished the week making the trip up Foxton Locks, a flight of locks which we have only ever descended before. This 75ft climb in 10 locks is arranged in two staircases of5 locks apiece. It is a feat of engineering which rightly attracts gongoozlers (idle spectators apparently). We ended up with welcome help from the fabulous volunteer Canal and Rivers Trust lockies but also about 7 small enthusiastic gongoozlers who were far from idle and happy to be marshalled into enthusiastic service on the lock gates! Result – 10 locks in under an hour.

Great views as you climb, including those of our unique camouflage-style roof

Who knows where we will head next but after 5 weeks living on board we are

  • still afloat and on the move
  • still speaking to each other
  • still trying to work out how to wash and dry anything big
  • still trying to find a way of storing shoes in little space so the dog doesn’t carry them singly to us and drop them overboard – if he does it often enough we won’t have to worry as there won’t be any left! If anyone has any ideas on this front let me know.

I will be charting daily images from our journey on our Instagram pickingupducks if you fancy following that with the weekly blog taking a longer look at this, our alternative way through what is our new normal.

Man overboard, a marathon and fear

Our first night of permanent living on the boat felt much like another holiday on board, albeit more crowded with ‘stuff’ and surrounded by familiar things from home.

Our first morning brought high drama. 6.08am in September without streetlights is dark. Our black spaniel returned to the boat from his morning constitutional and gleefully jumped from a pontoon to the black bow of the boat. He missed. Black dog in inky black water in the dark.

An avid swimmer by choice this sudden plunge into cold water startled him and was thrashing around. Being still on a lead stopped him from being swept downstream but there is only so long you can keep a dog on a collar and lead with a current tugging him away.

Well aware of the never-go-in-after-crew-overboard warning I leaned from the boat into the water to try and grab him. With fluffy dressing-gowned arms (not exactly clad for a crisis) I managed to grasp him under his front legs in the water. He calmed and I supported him whilst we formulated a rescue plan.

Hauling 20kg of saturated spaniel up from below the boat took two of us using a towel under him as a hoist. We landed him. All exhausted and totally drenched. The early morning now-smelly swimmer shook himself with glee all over us and headed into the cabin for a snooze!

Sleep is important for wild water swimmers – this one now owns a life jacket with a grab handle!

At first light after a change of clothes, we set off to our first continuous mooring stop…an adventurous few hundred metres from our now-let home! We calculated the maximum 14-day mooring allowed on our licence terms would support us to manage work, caring duties and enable hubby to run his 26.2 mile London Marathon on familiar routes.

The day before the marathon brought an email warning from Canal and Rivers Trust advising us not to move as the river was in flood. We knew. The boat was rising steadily, the indicator board at the nearby lock was on red, the river flowing fast around us, and rain was hammering again on our metal roof. The night before the marathon we were out in the storm loosening mooring ropes by torchlight, drenched in minutes.

Levels rose in the dark and water thundered menacingly to the nearby weir. I thought of all who have fought to save their homes against unrelenting flood waters. Natural disasters against which we often feel helpless and rely on expertise of specialists to save us is like the flood of Covid sweeping our countries. For me it reinforces the importance of people over possessions. If those we love are safe, possessions are secondary considerations.

Two burning questions kept me awake – would the mooring ropes hold, and if they did, would we wake to a towpath or 380 degree river?

We woke astonishingly to pale sunshine and clear towpath to which we were still attached. Steve left with dry feet and ran 26.2miles for Victa, a fabulous small charity who support children with sight issues and their families. Thanks to all who ran with him and sponsored him. He’s on Virgin money giving, Steve Ingham, London Marathon if you want to support him too.

I ran too despite my meniscus tear –  ran a feed station by the boat! It was appreciated by many runners during the morning – some familiar running friends, but many new faces.

 

Believe it or not this is AFTER 26.2miles

So the morning after the marathon by the terms of our licence if the flood warning was lifted we had to go… it wasn’t and we didn’t which was handy because Covid played another curved ball. An important small person’s pre-school closed for a deep clean for a week. So we sat tight, helped, worked, played, watched water levels and I tried to learn patience.

At the end of the week came the travel with caution email. We set off with as much alacrity, as you can with a top speed of 4 mph. We headed south, aiming to swap rivers for canals for a bit, and avoid the rumoured Covid lockdown.

This next part of our journey didn’t disappoint. It was uplifting, breathtakingly beautiful at times and that was all in 24 hours. I didn’t want to rush anything (was that the patience lesson?).

Enjoy sharing some of that beauty with us

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We now face some big questions…
Can we beat Boris and make it through lockdown areas before they lock down?
Can we make it off the river and onto the canal before more rain/flooding?
And most pressing – can we dry enough clothes before we run out?

Covid has sent us to the…ducks…

It seemed a remarkably easy decision to make after 6 months of working flat out through lockdown – give up the job, house and car. Move onto a 50ft 31-year old narrowboat to live a simpler, ecological more friendly life and see if it is more satisfying, more fulfilling with just ducks for neighbours. Idealistic or idiotic? Only one way to find out…

A particularly friendly neighbour

So 3 weeks ago the three of us, husband, self and spaniel moved to our floating home. It was a quick decision to make but it took some months to realise.

We had a big advantage – we had a boat, not in a condition to live on full time but then perhaps it’s a bit like having a child – are you ever ready or if you wait until you think you are, is it going to be too late or will you ever do it?

So other major things needed sorting to make our dream a reality…

  • I had to give 3 months notice from my job in UK higher education
  • The contents of a 4-bedroomed house won’t fit into space of 50ft long by arms length width so I turned to eBay and Facebook market place, making some sentimentally tough decisions and meeting some delightful people in the process
  • We needed to refit parts of the boat for full time living…
  • …to dispose of a car…
  • …and decide what to do with a house – rent or sell because we needed the money so we couldn’t leave it empty

In the main we have managed these tasks and in the past 3 weeks onboard we have learned some valuable life lessons; rescued one crew member from murky depths; supported another crew member to complete the London Marathon; and we’ve been trapped by rising flood waters… All will be explored in next week’s blog together with answers to some of the many questions we are being asked by friends, family and those we have met on this journey.

Thanks Covid for giving us the push – the now or never realisation. Things are up in the air already for us all anyway. Will this move work? Is it inspiring or idiotic? Can we survive? Should fear or doubt stop us trying? Will Covid in the end stop us realising our dream? Join us on this journey of a lifetime to find out.