Learn the language for a great 2021 staycation afloat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is what we look like!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So how do we square up today?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Escaping the rat race to increase creativity, productivity and happiness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taking control of our space and feeling better for it

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One way to break free in 2021 – resolution or revolution!

Welcome 2021 – may it be happy and healthy for you and those you love.

It’s a new year! That time when we aim to exercise more, lose weight, stop doing things that are bad for us, and think of how we might change our lives for the better. I wonder if we will be making resolutions this year, after 9 months that have rocked our world and created more changes than most of us have experienced in our entire lifetimes. If nothing else this pandemic has shown us just how adaptable we are when we need to be.

Living and working from home has given many of us new perspectives – of home, of work, of ourselves and of those we live with. The pandemic has also made us more appreciative of the importance of teachers, health care workers, research scientists, our communities, friends and families. I hope we cling to the good things we have learned. We can achieve our dreams, if we are prepared to make short-term sacrifices.

In the past 6 months we have personally stripped away what isn’t important, particularly with material possessions. We have found this adds significantly to the freedom of living on a narrowboat (to be honest if we hadn’t we’d never be able to move on the boat, and the boat would probably have sunk under the weight of stuff!). Decluttering is an extreme activity but one which we’ve found surprisingly liberating. I wish I had done it when we were living in houses, I know it would have given me more space and freedom.

It has revitalised the way we both live, and work. Bringing a fresh, reinvigorated perspective to all aspects of your life is profitable in many ways.

Creative musician, writer and friend Dave Wakely once wrote William Morris’s advice in beautiful calligraphic script on our dining room wall (on request I hasten to add):

“Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to beautiful.”

It’s a wonderful maxim and the great thing is that it recognises personal individual choice. It applauds what you like to use or love, not someone else’s taste or decisions. Of course unless you live on your own that is likely to mean compromises – in our case these centred mainly on books and tools!

We have met young people turning to boats as a way of escaping pa-renting, now enjoying accumulating their first home possessions onboard… We know older boaters with brick and mortar homes whose boats are holiday or weekend homes, equipped as an extra. For us it has been completely different. Giving up our 4-bedroomed family home in 2020 and moving to live on a 50ft narrowboat for good came directly from the pandemic restrictions and the way Covid had forced us to change our way of living. In our 31 years of marriage we have combined lifetimes of collecting things, inheriting things, squirreling things away, saved memories of our two daughters from their first teeth (yuk, why have you kept these?!) to every concert, performance, play or sporting event programme they have been involved with and those have been many. Our move demanded drastic downsizing and decluttering, so here is our learned experience if you fancy creating a clean sheet in 2021.

During the first lockdown we realised that if we no longer needed to be in a set location to work, it didn’t matter where we were as long as we had internet access. So – internet access was a requirement and something we could achieve on the boat. We just have to check for connectivity when we moor. We looked at the kit we had and worked out that between us we could live and work with a single laptop, an ipad and our two phones. These all require cables (several share so that reduces things). We both use a Garmin daily so we needed those and their chargers.

Our decluttering began with 4 maxims: need. want. keep. go.

We started by considering the minimum things needed, for us and the dog. That divided up into what we needed to live – cooking equipment (a hob, a casserole dish, a steamer and 2 pans) clothing (layers are the trick for all seasons, you add or subtract as required, and waterproof outers are essential), heating/cooking in the form of a multi-fuel stove and furniture (more follows on this). For the dog – a bed (we may give this away as he spends most of his time on the sofa), towels, food and water bowls and leads. To that we added the things we wanted such as personal mementos that add meaning to life.

We worked round the house room by room, not forgetting the glory hole under the stairs, the attic and garage working out what need and want items were in each room. We asked our children and friends whether there was anything they wanted and which we could give them, or looked to see what we could give to charities who would find them useful. (Not sure the girls were hugely impressed with boxes of their school books, annual reports, first teeth, programmes, and Guiding makes!).

Anything which didn’t fall within those two initial categories was put into keep or go piles (recognising that if it’s kept but can’t go on the boat then we have to pay or beg favours to store it). I ended up with a single notebook with 5 headed columns for each room to keep track of decisions1

Go items subdivided into sell and tip – with an intention to only tip the minimum possible, anything that couldn’t be given or sold. Sale items had photos taken (we soon discovered they sold better after our youngest daughter gave up time to come and take photos. Her eye for detail and staging was an evident winner!). We used ebay or Facebook market place. I made a policy of only putting up a maximum of 12 items a week so I could manage the queries, questions, and collections/postage whilst also working flat out in lockdown one! We met some delightful people and made a significant amount of money in the process. There were occasional frustrations – buyers changing their minds, some items going for a song which felt hard to let them go, but we recognised our need for them was over. Hiccups happened too – with the sale of one pair of pictures I saw they had sold to a buyer in Bradford. Only at the last minute did I realise I had forgotten to tick the UK-only selling box so they had to be parcelled up for a flight to Bradford, Pennsylvania! It has resulted in a delightful ongoing correspondence though!

There were moments of painful dithering – and if we had real doubts after talking through the future of an item, we put it in the keep pile and relegated it to the garage for a week or two so it was out of sight. After a period of time we would make a final decision on its fate. Usually the items moved into go!

I am increasingly aware that what has finally ended up in store really is minimal. I also think we will probably part company with most of it we will have lived for a significant time without it, and probably won’t remember why we stored it! The exception for me is my kiln and stained glass equipment which I just can’t fit on the boat but somehow, one day, will find a way of returning to it!

I realised that squirreled away were things I kept because someone had given them to us. It felt as if I was being ungrateful by disposing of them. Daft really as the givers will never know and have probably forgotten over the years what they have given us. Does anyone else cling to such items? Since Covid of course we haven’t been welcoming visitors so there’s been no need to get them out and put them on display when the giver comes round – a hidden positive perhaps! To anyone to whom I have ever given anything which falls in this category for you – please dispose of it immediately if it’s cluttering your life!

Books collected over years for work and pleasure; often tattered copies of articles I had written stuffed in cuttings files from journalism days; book chapters and journal articles from academic days and delicately stitched tiny items painstakingly made when my daughters were small, together with inherited items were the hardest on the emotional decluttering. They have been lugged from place to place, country to country, over decades. The fact I have kept them for so long gave them more significance – if I kept them this long they must be important but I hadn’t looked at, used or even thought about most of them for years.

Work books, collected and curated over time have gone to colleagues and university libraries for others to use. What I need I have in my head or can find via the internet.

Cuttings files remain for now in storage but will perhaps depart or find new homes in coming years. Baby items were very gratefully received by local charities.

We, of course, had another requirement for our decluttering – what will fit into a 50ft narrowboat? Furniture from our house was going to be too big. Our much loved family dining table bearing the scars of red wine rings from long lazy dinners, scratches and doodles from numerous homework sessions. It was made for us in France from forest oak by a hugely talented friend and local postmaster, and is over 9ft long and over 3ft wide. It would take up almost three quarters of our entire current onboard living space! It has of course gone into storage. However we like to eat, work, and play board games at a table so we needed and wanted one on the boat. We ended up buying a cheap gateleg table with 4 folding chairs that fit between its legs. It does the job it needs to do and when the weather’s good, when we are allowed visitors, and are moored alongside green space, I look forward to taking it ashore to dine outside.

Chairs and sofas found new homes as Steve build in a fantastic sofa bed which seats 6 and makes a comfortable double. It provides loads of essential storage underneath, a box that pulls out to create a coffee table and its comfy cushions which were covered (in an appropriate duck fabric of course) by a skilled upholsterer friend.

A chest of drawers I particularly liked and which came from another friend was way too big to fit on board – but storage is vital so two of its drawers have been repurposed as shelves. It’s with us in a different, smaller but really useful form. A wooden bird-carved box from the maker of our dining table has become an essential kitchen holder, and a wooden bottle opener made by another special family friend is a necessity!

Delicious homemade goodies from fabulous friends and family were wonderful Christmas gifts on our drawer-shelves

Our decluttering doesn’t mean we don’t have clutter – but we do try and keep the boat clear of too much (Steve might disagree but I honestly feel I’ve done remarkably and the boat is still afloat!). The bathroom cabinet is recycled because it would fit the space, and the beautiful kingfishers on each door were painted on a lampshade for a standard lamp by my late mother. I’ve no idea where I would put a standard lamp on the boat, and haven’t used the shade for decades, so I fixed them onto the cabinet and now enjoy them as a daily reminder of her.

We now have a one-in one-out rule for anything that isn’t consumable, to try and keep the status quo. It means that what we do have is valued and appreciated – something William Morris would, I am sure, applaud.

Decluttering has enabled us to look outwards rather than inwards. Not dwelling on material possessions means we are free to explore and not miss unique moments like these we’ve experienced. We wish you all a healthy, happy and liberatingly uncluttered 2021 packed with many moments that lift your spirits.

Our own aim for 2021 – to be more duck and to take no-one and nothing for granted.

Wise words from a total star – the fabulously talented Lisa at The Handmade Mug Company

Coming up from us in 2021 – we’re not ducking the big issues:

  • Making mini spaces work like a mansion
  • How to try to live more sustainably
  • Hilarity in the unexpected
  • Evaluating our aim to live a low-impact life
  • Can we really live well for £30 a week all in?
  • Tales of life afloat from boaters new and old
  • Eating and drinking from the wild – will we survive?
  • …and anything else you’d like to hear about – just let us know via the comments.

Wishing you health and whatever floats your boat at Christmastime

Whatever your Christmas looks like, whether it is going to happen now or in the summer, we wish you well at this time of year. Thank you for joining us on the adventures our new life is bringing us – we look forward to more unexpected moments with you in 2021, and to welcoming you on board as soon as we are allowed to do so!

Festive dog
The boss wishes you all a Happy Christmas….this is his happy-but-waiting-for-a-biscuit face!
Festive look on NB Preaux
This is our adopted maxim for life, recognising those in narrowboats, rafts or clinging to flotsam…
it must be Christmas – the pudding earrings are out!
Setting off on our new life from Sileby Mill – September 2020
Still living our dreams – December 2020. Happy place and happy faces – honestly!

Quarterly dividends and life lessons

In the final quarter of this year we have travelled more continuously (despite the global pandemic) than ever. At 3-4mph it’s been slow going, but we have happily cruised 143 miles, six and a half furlongs (no, I honestly have no idea how long they are) and worked 77 locks. We have taken in one river (the Soar), two arms (Market Harborough and Welford), a line (Leicester), and six canals (Grand Union, Oxford, Ashby, Coventry, Birmingham & Fazeley and the Trent & Mersey).

The move to a 50ft narrowboat was the direct result of Covid-19. We realised with internet access we could work from anywhere, and were aware our frenetic work life seemed to be taking more and more of our precious time. As Ernest Hemingway put it in The Sun Also Rises: “I can’t stand it, to think life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.” I quit my job and went freelance. Steve moved his work onto the boat, we let our home and as a result have enjoyed three whole months, a quarter of 2020 having irreplaceable experiences and learning invaluable lessons – including (a) how to live in very close proximity with your other half, (b) how to survive living in a small space, and how to enjoy life given (a) and (b).

Here, in no particular order, are our top 30 observations from the past 3 months which we hope you’ll appreciate and which are a partial response to the many questions we’ve received. We’ve learned a lot, about ourselves and the world around us, the world which is on our doorstep!

  1. Living with a spaniel on a boat you never have enough dog towels or cheese.
  2. It is easier than you think to have no food waste. In 3 months I have thrown away only onion and garlic peel. Using leftovers is easy with websites that allow you to type in the ingredients you have left.
  3. Winter provides additional free fridge space if you move carefully. All sorts of groceries keep well on outside ledges if you don’t rock the boat too much and knock them into the water!
  4. You are bound to meet the only moving boat of the day at the one bridge on a blind bend.
  5. Put things back where you got them from – ideally where they live. If you don’t you will waste time trying to find them again… Losing things through carelessness or laziness can create friction that no one needs. I have now lost a total of 6 gloves and heaven knows where they can have gone in a space this small!
  6. Don’t panic – all sorts of things will happen and 99% work out fine. We are still imagining there might be that 1% but haven’t found it yet…
  7. Life’s richness exists in the little positives: the kingfisher with his flash of vivid blue in a fleeting moment of flight alongside the boat; shared amusement over a greedy cob swan tapping away as he nibbles weed off the boat…
  8. Ditch the little irritations – realise their unimportance. In the moment it takes to draw a deep breath recall instead the reasons you appreciate your partner, and remember honestly the irritating things you do which they generously don’t remind you about… In my case those take so long to list I forget the original irritant.
  9. Going slow isn’t something to be ashamed of or to avoid. It saves time and accidents. A whirling dervish imitation (particularly on a boat) isn’t going to win prizes and can lead to a cold dip or worse. We have passed too many poignant waterside memorials to people to know how dangerous boating can be.
  10. Ropes freeze on metal and can skin your hands if you (a) lose your gloves and (b) are in too much of a hurry.
  11. If things don’t go according to plan they can lead to better things – a sticking gear cable led to a moment of worry at one of the locks at Fradley Junction. I had the lock ready thanks to the support of a 3-year-old in sparkly unicorn wellies, and wondered why Steve wasn’t bringing the boat in. We ended up walking the boat like a large blue dog, back to a mooring on a rope! There was nothing I could usefully do (apart from get out of the way) so the dog and I had a delightful unexpected walk/swim round the nature reserve (see later pictures for proof). It was something we might never have discovered otherwise. When we got back, all was resolved and we carried on where we left off.
  12. Leave each other space and peace to do what you do best (related to the last point – had I been hovering asking questions and adding to the stress of the situation the repair could have taken so much longer and built irritation in us both…).
  13. Even when things are going well, we all need time to ourselves.
  14. Learn from everything – particular highlights have been the discovery of Mabel Stark (a diminutive nurse turned tiger trainer of the 1920s), reed mace (the real name for what I have called bulrushes for years), that tempus vernum means Springtime as well as being an Enya number, and ducks do morning Pilates (leg stretches one after the other, wing stretches, and neck extensions too…)
  15. If you have the chance to do something today – do it. Emptying bins and toilets or filling up with water comes in this lesson. If you leave it the next available places may be frozen, shut or out of order.
  16. Being distant doesn’t mean being remote. I love the fact we have technology for the important things. We may be physically away from family because of the pandemic or travel but we can stay in touch with them and share moments without interfering with their day but whatsapp messages or a photo letthem know we are thinking of them. Daily December video calls enable a helpful 3-year old to practice his numbers and show Cola the right window to open on his doggy advent calendar!
  17. As a boater you can manage a thorough shower, including washing and conditioning your hair, treading your underwear clean in a bucket in the shower tray at the same time all in four minutes and and four litres of water.
  18. Upon hearing ‘man overboard!’ you reach for the camera first, and the life ring second.
  19. Your ability to navigate a lock smoothly is inversely proportional to the number of spectators.
  20. Walkers on the towpath believe you hate each other without realising you are actually yelling at Alexa… though this may indicate her to be a 21st century marriage-guidance device enabling the venting of frustrations…
  21. Don’t be so wrapped up in your journey that you miss things on the way. This week we took time to visit the National Memorial Arboretum. It’s a 150-acre site of 30,000 maturing trees in tribute to those who have served our nation, servicemen, civilians, emergency services, animals and also a poignant woodland dedicated to children lost too soon. The torrential rain for our first visit masked our tears. So much death, sacrifice and suffering is recorded here. Why have we not learned the lessons wrought at such cost? There was humour too and it was often that which brought tears. There is so much to see and it will be so different at every season, we both look forward to going back.
  22. One of you has obsessed about water in the bilges and has to keep checking.
  23. You both get paranoid about the loo indicator at bedtime just in case nocturnal trips turn the bathroom into a red light district (red= full cassette) necessitating a cassette change at 2am.
  24. One of you can reel off to anyone whether listening or not, details for how much diesel and coal you get through and how long a toilet cassette lasts (it’s all on a spread sheet – 100 litres in 3 months, a bag a week, and 2 days if there are only 2 of you, in case you wanted to know!).
  25. You take it in turns to do the fun things – steering a 10-15 ton boat, and foraging, as well as the less fun things – emptying said toilet cassette.
  26. Recognising there is always a real need for a small treat on deck – a biscuit, a mince pie, with a hot cuppa when its wet, windy, or cold.
  27. Look for the good things that make you feel good. Nit picking and finding fault will only make you feel mean and nasty.
  28. Daily exercise is essential and fun.
  29. You are never too old to be excited by a visit from Santa on his sleigh – well done Round Tables across the country!
  30. Warmth is vital – internal, and external. Care, hugs, layers of clothing and a roaring fire along with a steaming bowl of soup or a cup of coffee are essentials as well as treats.
Fradley Junction Nature Reserve – an unexpected pleasure accompanied by a lovely latte from the Laughing Duck.
Blazing fire and visit from Santa on his sleigh – what more can one ask in December?
The humour and ingenuity of residents at Alrewas in Staffordshire
Beauty at all times of the day

Coming up in the next few weeks to take us all into a new and hopeful year we’ll take a look at some requested topics. If you’ve any to add, just let us know via the comments:

  • Downsizing without pain
  • Stress-less living in a small space
  • Something for nothing – foraging for fun
  • The tools of journey planning with a narrowboat
  • Stories from others about why and how they live on England’s inland waterways
  • More living for less outgoing

Locked down in an active firing range, flights and foraging for Christmas

In less than a week we have managed to travel through 3 counties and 4 canals (good going at a maximum speed of 3mph; got locked into a military firing range on a live firing day (our lockdown 3); and begun preparing for Christmas with permitted flights and foraging .

We left the Ashby Canal, enjoying its gentle meander through undulating, mainly arable farmland and left with a victory – sight of a real live zander. For more about this fearsome fish, predators wiping out native species see previous blog.

The Ashby Canal in Leicestershire was hit by a disaster whilst we were there (see breach blog) so it was with some relief that we moved on. Each canal has its own character, brought about by the industry that spawned it, the land through which it flowed and in part by whatever the boats using it were carrying. Each Canal still maintains its unique character in part born from its geography but also now by its usage. The Ashby Canal for example doesn’t actually go to the exotically named Ashby-de-la-Zouch and never did. It served the coal fields of Moira, taking its high quality coal to warm the students and academics in the Oxford colleges. In time it also carried iron and steel from the Moira Furnace and the barges came in laden with goods for the area. Its gentle contours and lack of locks (until Moira which is not connected now to the main canal) made it popular with commercial fleets and today those very reasons make it popular with leisure boaters too. It is a leisure and holiday canal now.

As we left the Ashby canal at Marston Junction, turning hard right onto the Coventry , we left its milky coffee coloured waters, stained by the run-off from heavy rain seeping through ploughed clay fields, and a mallard paradise. The Ashby is heavily populated by handsome males with their iridescent blue green heads, accompanied by their duller brown spouses. The latter make sure everyone knows they are there, not by their plumage but by their voices – you always knew when a female mallard was seeking attention!

Equally noisy flocks of Canada Geese love the fields around the Ashby and the water park at Market Bosworth, but we only saw two families of swans on the canal. Towards Marston Junction skinny-legged moorhens scuttled across the surface of the canal warning of our arrival with their harsh “krekk krekk” call.

The Coventry Canal (Warwickshire) was a different story – moorhens and mallards remain but not in such numbers and they swim amid plastics and litter around Nuneaton. Our fishing net came handy to hoick out a variety of floating debris from deodorant cans to beer cans, plastic drinks bottles to takeaway cartons.

On the wooded stretches beyond Nuneaton the canal opens to mixed woodland which is clearly the playground of jays. We watched them burying and eating acorns before flying up into the tree tops, disappearing as flashes of bright blue, salmon pink and white searing though the sky.

Foraging has been a delight during the Autumn although because I am still cautious the haul has tended to be reduced to mushrooms (edible) and wood (for the fire). Now as we approach Christmas, I feel the urge to celebrate, to deck the halls… or hulls… Canals are ideal places to find flexible willow withies so easy to bind into wreaths. Ivy with its seedhead stars, and holly with vivid red berries are easily found in hedgerows and a bit of discarded lleylandi dumped by a disgruntled gardener added to the greenery. Some pine cones, sourced and dried earlier in the autumn and given a splash of white to make them stand out produced our 2020 festive wreath – no cost and totally sustainable.

After cruising all week it’s still there, and it is delightful to have it complimented by boaters and walkers alike. Some boats are putting Christmas trees up and lights are appearing in unexpected locations to brighten towpaths and moorings.

Maps appear to indicate a simple route up to the Trent and Mersey from the Ashby involving the Coventry Canal as the intermediary. At Fazeley (Tamworth) with its sensational artwork on the old warehouse buildings, we suddenly found ourselves joining the Birmingham and Fazeley Canal, and stayed on that all the way to just passed Whittington where we rejoined what is called the Coventry Canal (detached)!

There are various stories about what happened to create this peculiar state of affairs but they all involve companies running out of money, others stepping in to build a bit, and then running out of money too. Sounds like certain current transport projects…

The Birmingham and Fazeley (Staffordshire) is very different in character – its 15 existing bridges are named, like Dixon’s Bridge and Bull’s Bridge, whilst the Coventry uses numbers. Having left the Coventry after Bridge 77 we found ourselves picking up the detached section with Bridge 78 miles further on! Both canals though in places have bridges with doors in the side of them. Could these be for Santa’s elves? Or to store no longer needed politicians? Slots cut into the bridge ends below give clues to their more mundane but useful purpose. The door is the entrance to a storage area for stop planks, the wooden planks slotted in to block off a section of canal to drain it for maintenance work or to conserve water in the event of a major leak (as happened on the Ashby in November).

The Coventry Canal and the Birmingham and Fazeley brought the pandemic into stark focus once again. On the Coventry we tackled the Atherstone Flight, a series of 11 locks which took us down 70ft from the lofty heights at the start of the town all the way through, past the ALDI UK headquarters and out into the rural countryside beyond. We need to press on to get to see family at Christmas so we are making early starts which brings utter beauty to each day (as well as the odd frozen rope to contend with!).

The Warwickshire town of Atherstone is famed for its Ball Game “the most brutal game on earth” according to the New Zealand Herald! It takes place every Shrove Tuesday and this year was the 821st event. Snowstorms, foot and mouth, Word Wars have not stopped it, but just this week the Coventry Evening Telegraph reported that the Covid pandemic is threatening the 2021 event.

Further on the Birmingham and Fazeley, the delightful Staffordshire village of Hopwas embraces both sides of the canal, underlining what a difference cruising in this pandemic has meant to boaters like us. The Red Lion and the Tame Otter are on either side of the visitor moorings and in normal days we would have welcomed the opportunity to join their firesides for an hour or two to enjoy a fragrant mulled wine, or a cask ale and given our custom to both out of fairness of course. Both are now lying silent and dark, a 2020 unlike any other. ..

So this year we will remember Hopwas not for its pubs but for its woods. Hopwas Hayes Wood is a stunning 385 acre area of ancient woodland, heaven for walking, running and cycling. We headed into it from the canal where we were greeted with a flagpole and an official Ministry of Defence sign saying that this is the Whittington Firing Range and on a day when a red flag is flying and the gates are locked you shouldn’t enter. We walked through the gates around 8am and there was no flag so we enjoyed a good hour or so walking through the woods.

We started to walk back down the hill towards the canal just before 9am and found ourselves faced with – a red flag… and further on another red flag, and another – the damn things were now proliferating and accompanied by some seriously padlocked gates where we had entered earlier…

Local runners heading along the towpath realised our plight and came to our rescue with details of an alternative route out of the woods which would take us away from the firing zone and back to safely. Needless to say the journey back was done a lot faster and as ever we were delighted to meet local runners!

If you find yourself in this area – do go down to the woods but take a look at the MOD website first – might have saved us being locked in!

What excitement will next week hold?!

Disastrous leak cancels our plans and ends in tiers

Sunday was a lockdown day with a difference for anyone boating on the Ashby Canal and for towpath walkers near Snarestone close to the current end of navigation on this restored canal. Thousands of gallons of water drained from the canal into surrounding fields as part of the towpath fell away resulting in a breach of the canal. Boats were left stranded, fish (small and large, some up to 20lbs in weight) were left dead or gasping and although we were around 6 miles away we were affected.

The breach and its resulting damage

The restored section of the Ashby Canal is 22 navigable miles…or rather it was that long on Saturday until Sunday’s drama cut it short. Originally built to service collieries (at which point it was 31 miles long), it was designed without a single lock. That means if there is a need to halt water, stop planks are essential. These huge wooden planks, like railways sleepers, are lowered across the canal to stop the water literally flowing away. The concern was that the canal and the marina where we were could drain out through creating problems for boats, the canal structure, and surrounding farmland.

Boats on linear (towpath) moorings were shepherded into the Market Bosworth marina and stop planks placed across the entrance, sealing boats and water in. Emergency tape fluttered warning to any boats trying to turn in. Once secure, we all sat and waited whilst higher up the canal according to the local news, frantic and frenetic activity by an amazing group of volunteers halted the drama. 

Fishermen said they were alerted by a sudden flow appearing on the canal where water is normally totally still. The first we knew of the drama up the cut was the activity at the marina once they had received the alarm.

Stop planks in place across the mouth of the marina with warning tape. You can see how far the team had to move them to get them into place.

The early activity was followed by a boaters’ stoppages email warning. From Canal and Rivers Trust (CRT).

CRT warning – I have no idea how after seeing the pictures I have shared that they thought the towpath was still open!

So our plan of exploring to the end of the Ashby current navigation is on hold for another year or so. It just proves that we never know what’s round the corner. The best laid plans etc… so we will head out of the Ashby Canal and at Marston Junction head north west, turning back onto the Coventry Canal. Challenges ahead on the 38 miles of the Coventry we need travel to Fradley Junction include the 11 locks of the Atherstone Flight. The last time we did these it was blisteringly hot – something tells me that won’t be the case this time. The forecast warns of rain, sleet, and more rain! We will be going slowly and carefully – locks are too dangerous to take lightly in any weather but particularly in winter.

With the end of lockdown 2.0 and the introduction of tiers we find ourselves in Tier 3 here in the Midlands.  CRT have reinstated the 14-day maximum mooring in unlimited areas so we are pleased to be getting back to some normality of movement. Their guidance has been extended to advise not travelling between tiers. We have our map books and gov.uk out to view our amended route alongside the restrictions. As we are in a huge area of tier 3 it appears we can move as we wish for a very long distance. We have restocked with fuel and food to stay warm and enjoy soups and stews as we travel. New views on a regular basis will also keep our spirits up. 

Keeping observant and sharing a daily picture from our life or the natural life around us during lockdown on @pickingupducks on Instagram has been hugely enjoyable and it’s great knowing that others look forward to these too.  Seeing the changes of nature, as well as the ways that all of us as individuals have the capacity to lift the spirits of others is just wonderful. Posts that created the most interest recently include the changing nature of what I had called bulrushes for decades but now know are reed mace; a beautifully decorated road sign at the end of a tiny country lane; Cola exploring his pawfect very own doggy advent calendar (huge thanks Lesley) and hazel catkins bringing the cheerful hope of new beginnings.

It’s a delight to be asked to continue these daily posts. Small moments of enjoyment are always important in winter. They seem more necessary this year than ever. Finding my thermal socks was one of those moments! The glee of seeing it’s started raining minutes before the dog and I set off for a walk means I can get full waterproofs on (that’s opposed the misery of setting off without waterproofs in bright sunshine and getting soaked 20 minutes out!). Being on a boat has resulted in a different kind of rain check too. I realise I used to look up to evaluate rain, but now I look down. Heavy rain produces far agitating ripples on the canal surface. These ripples change in frequency and dimension depending on the type of rain and prove a very good indicator of whether it’s welly or walking boot weather.

As we get back on the move we still have some leaks on board – from the fresh water tank – but we can now manage them. To help stay warm and reduce draughts, we have put up our Perspex double glazing. Being rather old and a bit scratched it gives us a hazy view of the world – no bad thing in 2020 some may think! With the demand for Perspex thanks to Covid, now is not the moment to seek replacements, and those we have will certainly work for this winter. Spring 2021 will look even brighter for us when we take them down and see clearly again!

A new mystery emerged with the discovery of a loaf of bread in our store in the covered cratch area with huge chunks removed – mice? rats? greedy swans or ducks helping themselves? None of these seemed possible – how could they get through the closed tarpaulin cover, undoing zips and elasticated ties? The culprit inadvertently gave himself away by nuzzling my hand with a crumb-covered muzzle! Cola the boat dog had been snatching a mouthful behind my back whilst I was busy undoing zips and ties to let us out. Bread is now in a closed, dog-proof container!

Bread damage and the thief – really looks guilty doesn’t he?!

My lockdown 2.0 goals are rolling into a running-up-to-Christmas set of goals – has anyone else done the same ? The lockdown return to running didn’t quite work due a chest infection (not Covid), but I averaged 14,000+steps a day which has done a great job strengthening my knee around the meniscus tear. The promised jeans are on and a bit more effort should make them comfy! 

We are looking ahead to Christmas. We hope we can spend it with 4 wonderful family members to make our squad of 6. Our aim is to moor somewhere nearer them for that to happen. That demands keeping an eye on planned repair stoppages which could restrict where we go, reviewing river flooding risks, canal freezing risks and planning our route accordingly factoring in water fill up and waste disposal points. En route we aim to minimise contact with others prior to the festivities to try and protect the family, and to use dry days to forage greenery and decorate the boat ready for the festivities. If you are creating foraged decorations it would be great to see your creations to give me inspiration!

Finally, I just have to share this with you – yesterday afternoon’s walk resulted in us both standing on the muddy towpath in a steady downpour howling with laughter.

Floating in the reeds we found the latest (undramatic this time)Ashby Canal leek! Let me assure you although it’s a plant, it honestly wasn’t a plant by us! Wayne and Emma Jackson you’ll know why we instantly thought of you two!

So whatever tier or restrictions you are under – we hope you too can find something to smile about.

Fishy goings-on in a murky underworld

As on land, problems never seem to come singly on water. We’ve wrestled with onboard flooding and finally identified the source (our fresh water tank) so continue a now monotonous cycle of sealing, filling, evaluating, mopping and resolving.

We have reduced the severity and number of leaks, identified and hopefully sorted them but working away this week and bubble support means we won’t be able to do much more testing until next week.

This week’s added concern has come from unidentified electronic alarms. What do they mean? Where are they coming from? Are they indicating something dire or expensive has gone wrong? Are they related to the boat or the marina connections? Can we sort whatever it is before we need to move on (if allowed) on 3 December as England’s second lockdown ends? Most crucially – is it serious, so serious it could result in us having to evacuate our floating home?

The noise is intermittent and irregular. Sometimes short sharp beeps, at others a rising series of notes, so is it emitted by one or more items? It appears we have only heard it at night, but is that because often during the day we are out, or because Alexa (yes, we have her onboard) is playing us music or the radio has drowned it out?

It is clearly an alarm and electronic. To be honest we don’t have that much on board that is electronic! We have done the rounds of the carbon monoxide monitor, the smoke alarm, mobile phones and the battery charger. The dog must have wondered what on earth we were doing, running up and down the boat stopping at intervals and listening – is it coming from here, from there, from inside, or out? The answer came, as these things often do, by chance. Steve went out to fetch fuel for the stove from the roof and came back laughing. The beeps are fishing alarms – and there are three fishermen on boats around us, each with a different make of alarm and each makes a different sound.

Spot the fishermen on the pontoons in the sunset

Having discovered the cause of the noise we can now relax. But it made me curious about what fishing from a marina pontoon might yield. The answer was unexpected but fascinating – they are seeking Zander, an invasive non-native fish which it is actually against the law to throw back. This fish is so tasty that it is commercially farmed in some countries like Denmark. It appears amazingly versatile, for everything from sushi to grilled or baked fillets. I don’t think I have ever eaten it (knowingly at least). Frozen fillets are on sale for £16 for 240g and the catch record in the UK for the species appears to be 9.7kgs.

Zander (aka Stizostedion or Sander lucioperca) is also known as the European pike-perch. It is now prevalent on several of our canals including the Ashby where it appreciates the dark shade created by boats, making a full marina zander heaven. Its predatory behaviour has led to it being regarded as a threat to native species like sticklebacks and gudgeon. It’s become such a problem since it was introduced to the UK in 1878 in lakes at Woburn Park in Bedfordshire, that many canals are now managed by electrofishing in sections to try and reduce its numbers.

Modern technology comes into play if you want to succeed in zander fishing apparently, not only using multiple rods with bite alarms but also employing bluetooth sonar to identify packs of zander. From the frantic and regular beeping we’ve heard, I imagined it would be really easy to get a picture of one, to nip across to a boat and peer at the catch but since I learned about them they appear to have become elusive… being caught only when I haven’t been around apparently unless that’s just a fishermans’ tale. This mini fillet was the total result of the past 24 hours so I was grateful for a Pixabay copyright free image to see this evil floating Dracula in its entirety!

The falling temperatures make me realise why anglers fishing from narrowboats buy alarms to tell them when a fish is biting so they can respond from the warm! The cold is something we’ve really noticed, particularly with this week’s work schedule. Imagine returning to a large metal box which which has been shut up all day with no heating as temperatures drop and you’ll realise why we’re becoming adept at laying the stove early in the morning before we leave so we can have it lit within seconds of returning at night. Soups, stews and hot drinks are coming into their own as vital means to raise temperatures and spirits alike.

The cold though does bring unique benefits we can’t enjoy at any other time of the year and which are even more apparent living on our non-centrally heated narrowboat….the chance to cuddle hot water bottles, to snuggle up on the sofa swathed in blankets, silvery white walks, the crisp crunch of the towpath as the slushy mud has set hard under foot, and we’ve enjoyed the most stunning sunsets reflected in the water which seems like a double treat. Coming back into the warmth after being out to appreciate the sights around us feels a real bonus – it’s worth nipping out into the cold just to get that chance to come back inside! Maybe this is the Scandinavian hygge but whatever it is, it is special.

As the temperatures take us towards Christmas we wonder like everyone else how we are going to be able spend it because of tiers and regulations, travel restrictions between tiers may hit us, and of course there is always the dilemma of should we morally mingle with those we love, particularly those with underlying health issues. My lockdown 2.0 return to running has been struck down too by a tight chest and runny nose which thanks to the C-19 by ZOE app necessitated a Covid-19 test for us both. Fortunately we have use of a car this month but I wonder how I will manage if in the future I fall ill and have to cycle the distance to some car park to stick a swab down my throat and up my nose!

Seeing lights and festive decorations lifts the spirits and it’s a delight to see them going up so much earlier this year, giving the chance to spot new ones every day. Narrowboat owners are doing their bit, and we’re starting to see decorations appearing. Some are going all out with the lights. I’ve made a start on natural and upcycled decorations with enjoyably emptied gin bottles doing duty as candlesticks. Once we leave the marina we will return to a lot of candlelit evenings as we return happily to our off grid lifestyle. I am also finding a surprising amount of satisfaction recycling toilet rolls into snowflakes – a highly recommended creative way to pass a winter evening!

A casualty of our time here has been our centre line which has frayed badly because of movement during the recent winds. By chance this seems a bit of a bonus as we do have a replacement, and if I can forage enough greenery I intend to use the old rope as the base for some natural festive swags along the side of the boat.

Incidentally our Covid tests were negative and we were texted the results remarkably within 12 hours. My chest infection must have been some winter bug, but I imagine I was not alone in jumping to instant conclusions that Covid was to blame. I’m lucky, it seems to have beat a retreat and the only thing that suffered was my return to running although I have managed to walk an average of 8+ miles daily.

We are going to head the boat in the direction of our family in the hope we can meet up somehow, somewhere for some of Christmas. We are going to self isolate on board for the two weeks beforehand to try and protect our family, but there is still confusion and no clarity yet from Canal and Rivers Trust about whether we will be able to travel through tiers to meet up. If we can, we will, if not we will load up with fuel, food and sit tight when we’ve found somewhere we want to moor. By my next blog next week we will be on the move to somewhere and we’re looking forward to it, wherever that may be to, and hoping for no more dramas en route!