Pickingupducks

Sometimes you just have to move on…

We’re back on the move, with this week encapsulating the variety of life afloat on the inland waterways of Great Britain.

In five days we’ve travelled 28 miles up 42 locks. We’ve moored in a city (surprisingly quiet considering we were alongside university student accommodation), outside a village (peaceful) and in the middle of fields where bleating lambs and frogs croaking to attract a mate made for noisy evenings!

We’ve shared the waterways with kingfishers (every time I see one, I haven’t had my camera), herons, swans, ducks, and moorhens. We’ve passed frothy white hedges of blackthorn blossom and brushed under bright lime green willow curtains. Everythjng smells fresh and new.

Moving as we do through nature really makes us feel that Spring is all around us. Nesting swans are greedily amassing broken reeds to build their platform nests, and signs from last year remind boaters not to endanger the sitting swans or their impending young by letting highly territorial families meet.

We’ve travelled alone and in company, supporting for 12 locks and 9 miles a solo boater. We had the help of Canal and River Trust volunteers on the staircase of 10 locks at Foxton, as well as the help of gongoozlers, including a family from Israel with two young children. Over here to visit English family they said their time watching slowly travelling narrowboats was welcome respite from their part of the world and the conflict raging there, but when I asked if they wanted to stay here in safety the mother said no, she wanted to be home with her children.

Our world is very different from theirs, from that of many people who watch our slow progress at places such as Foxton, and yet it is a world that always elicits curiosity. One of the delights of living afloat and travelling at walking pace is the many conversations you strike up with curious Gongoozlers. In the past 5 days we’ve been asked where we’re going several times, and people have been astonished to hear us say London, Bath, and Birmingham. We’ve been asked how long it will take us to get to London, and we have to say we could go rapidly to get there in just over a week but it’s likely to take us between two and four months! (To the tidal Thames at Brentford is 60 cruising hours, so it depends how often we stop and for how long, as to how long that journey takes.)

Boatdog has enjoyed being back on the move, meeting new people, exploring new places, and she’s gained confidence to jump up onto one of the seats at the back of the boat as we cruise. Until the bird scarers fire in the fields protecting the crops that is – she hates them, and they make her cower every time they go off.

We’ve worked this week too, and this weekend we aim to trade from the boat in the sunshine at Foxton, making the most of the Spring weather although stock is low after Christmas and with all the work on the boat I haven’t crafted much to restock but hopefully that will now change.

I also managed an unexpected couple of trips this week – and on both occasions revelled in not having the car. It has meant walking much, much more, and discovering things en route. The first was a chance encounter with the Leicestershire Records Office in a former school in Wigston. In their archives, I unexpectedly found details and an image of my great grandfather’s hosiery factory. I learned with astonishment that: “The works and warehouses comprise a group of lofty brick buildings I a very convenient and accessible part of the town, with every facility for the receipt of raw material and the despatch of the finished hosiery goods to all parts of the world.”

I learned that the three partners were “gentlemen of great energy” and that they employed up to 500 staff at their Leicester factory alone with more employed in works at Burbage and Wigston. My next task is to discover what happened to these businesses and their buildings.

The second unexpected trip led to a new innovation on board. Thanks, Aldi, for the supply of a larger air fryer, and astonishingly it’s in the same colour as our fridge – almost as if we planned it! Staff at Aldi in Wigston were delightful after I visited to ask on Wednesday night if they would have any of these specialbuys in the next day, because if so we would stay on our mooring overnight and set an early alarm to ensure we made the half hour walk up to get one when they opened. They couldn’t guarantee them but an early alarm, an early walk and I arrived in store to be beckoned to one side by a delightful man (stupidly I didn’t get his name) who had a mint green air fryer in a box just ready for me to buy. A walk back, rapid unpacking, and we were off our mooring by 9am with it proudly in place. At some point this weekend, I shall have a go at baking with it – there – I’ve committed myself!

Being back on the move is energising, exciting, and bizarrely simultaneously relaxing. We seem to pack more into each and every day.

Biophilia indoors is bringing evident benefits

One of the most popular and most watched episodes of Grand Designs was that of woodsman Ben Law, handbuilding his cruck-framed home in the Sussex woodland he manages.

The thought he put into making the wood the centrepiece of his incredible home and the care with which he handcrafted every element appealed not just to me but to viewers across the globe. The sheer beauty of wood sung out thanks to his skill.

At the end of that series he said how much the house and building it had changed his life and how he lived. We can’t all build our own home from scratch, but we can, without doubt, benefit daily from the beauty of wood around us.

Trees and their wood have been fundamental to canals and built the original boats

Wood is our oldest construction material. It is both renewable and durable. These days, we are aware of its carbon positive nature – wood is effectively a carbon sink, positively addressing climate change.Because it is a natural resource, it is non-toxic.

It is naturally insulating, and whilst combustible, it burns slowly, predictably, and measurably.

It ages naturally, becoming ever more attractive with the years ( something that many of us envy!). When it does come to the end of its life, its natural breakdown is not environmentally damaging.

But for me, the most important and evident benefit of wood in construction is the positive impact of it on our well-being and health. This is based on wood’s biophilic properties. Biophilia relates to our innate need as humans for connections to nature. The word stems from the Greek for love of nature. Sociologists and psychologists have researched and written about how wood in construction, particularly in offices and homes, can reduce stress and blood pressure and result in more positive moods as well as increased concentration.

Those studies have been across the globe – Biophilia benefits have been noticed in British Columbia, where a study showed wood surfaces in offices, lowered heart rates, and decreased blood pressure, resulting in less stress. In Europe, a study compared wood and plaster indoor finishing and found the wood created more positive emotions in participants.

Being surrounded by nature on the boat as we float through our life and work has always been a hugely positive part of boatlife for us, but now we have the delight of nature within thanks to the beautiful bespoke wooden kitchen built for us this month.

It is evident that this tactile, smooth, and natural crafted kitchen it is already changing how we feel, how we live, and how much we enjoy our floating home. I’m sitting writing this whilst stroking the beautiful warmth and grain of the substantial worktop on which my laptop is resting. I defy anyone to come aboard and not stroke the curves of the solid beech worktop, to trace the shapes and patterns, the whorls and waves within the wood, that tell its stories.

The beech is one aspect but the upstands and cupboard doors have different tales to tell being made of black walnut, and beside them maple and oak bring their unique qualities to a kitchen which is nothing short of remarkable.

Every day, I find something different, a different pattern, a new addition to how we live because of this remarkable piece of craftsmanship. We have the benefit that this beautiful kitchen was built for us by a young man who is a master of his craft, and he’s also a boater. As such, he understands the need to maximise space, making the most of every centimetre on the boat and of the beautiful wood he uses. There are elements that are nothing short of remarkable. Above the sink hangs a crafted draining cupboard that is nothing short of art. It holds our crockery and washing up, doing away with the need to have an unattractive metal or plastic drainer taking up space and breaking up the beauty of our sea of beech worktop.

Cupboards have been designed to cope with the sloping tumblehome od our nartowboat and to specifically fit particular elements important to our life, like a beautiful hand cranked sewing machine (thank you Roena) and a (new) air fryer. Drawers are designed without intrusive handles. The plinth is full of drawers, and there are no less than 7 drawers in this exquisite unit.

Now we play the game of ‘Where does this live?’ But there’s no frustration in that, even if I have to open every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen to find something, it is a delight to do so. This beautiful carefully crafted kitchen is just breathtaking, as gorgeous to use as it is to look at. It is making a massive, positive difference to how we continue to live and work afloat.

A week of Ws

Work. Wood. Wall cupboards. Work. Weirs. Waiting. Wallpaper and a bit more Work.

That’s our week – how’s your week been?

This weekend, we will be getting the wall cupboards and the final work done on the kitchen – thanks, Ben.

It’s been a week of sanding, oiling, seriously admiring and stroking the tactile curves and smoothness of our beautiful beech wood kitchen worktop/breakfast bar. We now have 2 immaculate high stools thanks to a bit of recycling courtesy of Facebook marketplace and a delightful lady in a gorgeous converted barn who decided they didn’t want them any more. Waste not – want not. (That’s a couple of Ws I’d forgotten!)

Skipper celebrating at the bar with a **whisky**

Early in the week, Work involved some volunteering. This week we were near our boat mooring itself, collecting litter, including hoovering up a Henry alongside the River Soar (why?); painting the bridge over the Weir, clearing the weir itself of debris amassed during the floods; and making good damaged handrails.

Later in the week, work was hugely varied involving house bathroom upgrading, higher education strategic workshop planning, HEA Principal Fellow discussions, charitable applications, and fundraising comms.

In between, we’ve been recycling and taking trips to tips and charity shops for ourselves and other members of the family.

Whilst we are waiting for the completion of the stoppage work that Canal River Trust is undertaking at Birstall Lock ahead of us, we wait. We are having no problem filling the time – including the delight this week of an exclusive invitation to a portrait gallery exhibition at a special 7 year old’s school. His self-portrait was brilliant, and I’m honestly not biased!

We made it up to Birstall this week to see how work there was going. What do you think – will it be open on 28th March as currently predicted?

And.. we finally made a decision about a now exposed wall in the new kitchen. We are going to give it the wallpaper treatment- the only bit of such decoration on board. We decided on a subtle, abstract design…only to find we couldn’t just walk into a shop and buy a roll. Oh no, we had to order online and wait a week, and we only decided on what we wanted two days before we need to out it up. So this morning found us charging round Leicester to find what was available so we could get it up before the wall cupboards arrive this weekend. Is it subtle? Is it abstract? No. And No.

As you can see, we took the wall (fortunately not a bulkhead!) out to a convenient nearby pub table (thanks to The Waterside) and papered it off the boat!

As you can also see – no subtlety involved! Piratical parrots, though minus pieces of eight, seemed strangely but suitably nautical!

We can guarantee it will be a very different looking nb Preaux that sets off this coming week thanks to all these efforts!

Handcrafted beauty and making a stand against the U.S.A.

Glorious weekend weather, a talented and hard-working carpenter (with serious muscles), and an accessible hard-standing towpath have made a massive difference to our life afloat this past week.

We now have the bulk of a beautiful, bespoke kitchen plus dining area, crafted from oak, maple, black walnut, and beech.

The sun (and there has been some this week between showers and hail), lights a vast expanse of beech which is being nurtured daily. Painstakingly pampered, sanded, and oiled. Once a day for the first week, once a week for the next month, once a month for the next year and once a year after that. I think I’ve got that right!

There are drawers – no less than 7 in one area, and secret ones that I can’t quite remember where they are! There are pull-outs and cupboards, and yup – we can’t at this moment find anything because we have no idea where we put it!

It is hard to remember what was here before, and I can’t wait until I can use the vast expanse of worktop, to sit comfortably at the breakfast bar to eat meals instead of twisting round a curved table edge as I’ve done for the past 5 years. It will be bliss and probably wonderful for the digestion.

Food too can be different now – we have an air fryer (basically a mini oven) and an induction hob. It means grilling is effectively now a thing on board.

I’m waiting until everything is complete to give you the Grand Tour, but suffice to say true craftsmanship combined with the inherent natural beauty of wood is a thing of beauty. As I write, my hand is stroking the smooth curves of this remarkable kitchen.

It’s still chaotic on board. The floor needs finishing. There are many things waiting to be found homes and living in a small space when things are piled high is far from easy. This past week, though, has seen a dramatic step towards a new way of living (and working) afloat.

In other news, which hasn’t brought any rays of joy, after 16 years on Twitter (now X) I’ve posted for the last time. I cannot justify staying with it because of its current owner. I’ve moved to bluesky (as DeenaI). I’m also trying, because of its owners’ outspoken support for the current US regime to wean myself from an unhealthy dependence Amazon. They seem small and probably to some, insignificant protests, but every successful marathon starts with a single step. It also makes me feel less helpless in a world that seems to be spiralling out of sensible control. What, I’m interested to know can we learn from what you’re doing to seize some control?

I’m fortunate in many ways. I have the calming capacity to stroke a Boatdog (and now caress a tactile kitchen), to look out at gently moving water (we’re still on a river and out of flood at the moment), walk the towpaths and watch wildlife all around. All are guaranteed to bring perspective and relaxation.

Living Jenga = excitement & chaos

Older boats are like older houses. You start one job and another 6 make an appearance. They also demand because of their dimensions that doing work anywhere affects another area because everything has to move to produce working space.

This week is a major milestone aboard Preaux, a week when we are making another massive change to how we will live (and work) aboard. We have ripped out the kitchen which the Skipper installed to keep us going. It consisted of shelves with 3 doors across and an open shelf unit.

Having moved our battery to LiFePO4, it’s given us more capacity, and that means a chance to move away from using gas for cooking. That was forward planning needed to make a change of hob. The hob for the past 5+ years has been our only consumer of gas, and it has meant we’ve been carrying 2 gas bottles. The bottles are situated at the back of the boat in two storage lockers. This week (thanks to a CRT volunteer heading to Sawley) we sent our smeg gas hob and two gas bottles to boating charity Vets Afloat.

Jenga – food moved into shower, chaos everywhere!

And the hob wasn’t the only thing to go from the kitchen this week. The sink and tap, the worktop, the cupboards, and shelves have also gone. Basically, there is no kitchen left!

This gives us a chance to retrofit insulation behind where our new kitchen will be, and to explore yet more strange wiring which has appeared as we’ve pulled out elements which might have been in the boat for the past 30 odd years.

It’s also been necessary to rebalance things. Under the old floor were kerbstones being used as ballast. Replacing the kitchen is going to create more weight, so 4 of those have had to move. That’s around 160kgs taken from one side of the boat, so as I write this, she is listing by approximately 4 degrees. That doesn’t sound much, but it feels like a lot more.

So we’ve now got a blank canvas.

There’s so much choice and decision-making in making any replacement with an older boat or older home. Should one go for a traditional look, or a modern contemporary style, or replace with what the boat would have had in 1989 when she first went in the water?

Buying off the shelf kitchen units is possible, but they then need to be cut down. That is necessary to maximise the available space, slotting under the gunwhales and making wall cupboards hang well, taking into account the tumblehome, which results in a slanting narrowing as the boat rises from the gunwhales to the roof. Effectively, each kitchen needs to be bespoke.

Narrowboat interiors are as diverse as boat owners, and we have been in negotiations for months with a skilled carpenter and friend, whose work on his own boat we have long admired.

So what would you go for? Original, bespoke or contemporary?

We will be hard at work this weekend, so by next week, I hope to be able to show you an internal transformation, and you’ll be able to see for yourself.

We’re done – it’s over.

That’s it then – all over. How did that happen so quickly?

For the first time in our five years of working and living afloat on a narrowboat, we took a winter mooring. Somehow it’s been nearly four whole months that we have remained (most of the time) in one place.

Some people go into marinas at winter time, and others take advantage of private moorings, but many, like we did, opt for winter moorings arranged by Canal and River Trust (CRT) the charity that has responsibility for most of the inland waterways we use.

There are CRT winter moorings available in selected places across the network, from Yorkshire to Wales and the South to the Midlands. They are made available on a first come, first served basis from 1 November until 28 February. Boaters can choose a month or more up to a maximum of four months. Prices range across 7 bands from costed per metre of boat per month from £8.50 to £26.20. That price is influenced by the location; the price of moorings nearby;, availability of services and facilities nearby like water, waste and rubbish disposal and in some cases electricity; and demand. For ours, water, waste, and rubbish are a short walk up the towpath or a cruise up the river. There is no electric point, and we have positioned ourselves to avoid trees to maximise the available solar energy.

This winter, there have been only two boats moored on the 100 available metres of our chosen location, so there’s been plenty of space for travelling boaters to join us, but no one has. There’s just been us, and Joe. It has been very quiet on the river, perhaps because we’ve gone in and out of flood with anticipated regularity.

We were late arriving on our mooring because of delayed CRT maintenance further down the River Soar, but we made it in the middle of November and we have been able to stay until now, the end of winter mooring.

Advantages?

We’ve not had to plan travel around winter stoppage programmes, which can result in us being stuck in places we wouldn’t have necessarily chosen.

At last we’ve been able to officially join the thousands of people who give their time regularly as volunteers for CRT, working to improve the waterways. We’ve undertaken our required training and enjoyed working alongside many different people, all committed to supporting the waterways that, for us, furnish a wonderful way of life. We are now working with CRT to find ways we can keep volunteering as we continually cruise from place to place.

It has been a huge bonus, and the main reason for us taking this mooring is to be near family. We have been able to help out and be part of their lives again on a regular basis. That may mean we’ve spent way too much time and money in certain coffee shops, but it also means we have had the fun of weekly school pick ups, and the chance to see the world through the rejuvenating eyes of a 7-year old. We’ve been to Panto together.

We’ve made it to school performances, helped in school and at Beaver Scouts, been on the touchlines for football matches and weekly training sessions, and cheered on family runners in competition. Maybe now as we are becoming fixtures, it’s a good time to move on and let them all live their lives in peace so that when we do come back they’ll be (hopefully) pleased to see us again.

It has been wonderful returning to an area where we used to live and work so we could catch up with many friends. I know many of them visit the boat wherever we are, but it’s been great to catch up with them more regularly and to visit their homes.

We haven’t had to even think about where we needed to be to fill up with water, dispose of rubbish, or empty the loo – it’s always been a known short walk or cruise away.

Nor have we had to worry about overstaying our allocated allowed time on our mooring

We have been able to have the car with us, although I shall be glad to live without it once more and not just because I managed to give myself the new experience of an expensive Speed Awareness Course in lieu of points. Oh, for a maximum of 4mph again, and the need to walk everywhere again.

It has been hugely advantageous being able to plan to get major necessary work done on the boat knowing that we didn’t have to move the boat to that work, we could tell people where we were and arrange visits/appointments. As a result, we now have a fantastic lithium iron battery system and are about to have a beautiful bespoke kitchen installed… more on this next week when it begins to become a reality.

It has been wonderful to get involved with community projects. I’ve been involved in helping fundraise to get a primary school sensory room off the ground. I won’t be around to see it to fruition, but I know I’ve brought people together to make a difference.

I’ve also had the real joy of being able to get involved with the local Spinners and Weavers Guild. I’ve learned so much in the process. I’ve also conveniently been near a yarn producer…or is that financially a disadvantage???

Disadvantages?

Having the car to hand has definitely made us lazy! It got me caught for speeding and we’ve used it too much.

Static views can grate on the nerves after a few weeks we’ve discovered.

We love to move, to explore with our home is what we adore doing, but we have hardly moved in 4 months.

Cost – for us £500 for the winter period in addition to our licence fee

Flooding – we knew it was likely on the river, but river levels exceeded previous records this year, and people were evacuated by the fire brigade from just near our mooring. We were offered the chance to leave our home, but we just loosened our ropes to keep ourselves afloat and sat tight.

Winter mud on the towpath has created a constant cleaning battle inside the boat but it hasn’t been anywhere near as bad as we found it on the Ashby Canal last year or in other years on other stretches but as we were continuously cruising then, we could pull up our ropes and move on in search of better surfaces.

Would we do it again?

We would definitely consider it.

Where are we going next?

Initially we are stretching our wings to go just a mile or so further on for the final winter major renovation work, and we will have to then wait because winter work at a lock further on has been delayed – the team working there have found it a frustrating job with more issues and storms have caused additional hold ups. Once that is open and they are now saying that it should be late March, then we will set off again, and we will be ready and happy to do so. Our maximum moorings after that will be back to 14 days in one spot.

It’s time for clearing the decks – are you?

Spring’s sorting out is going on all around us. Many birds are busy nesting, female ducks are once more putting their lives at risk as the mating season begins (males can and often do drown the females if they mate in the water), buds are busily forming on shrubs and trees, and early bulbs are beginning to delight us with splashes of colour, lifting the dark days of winter.

For us, our first winter mooring is nearing its end. In just a few days, we will be at the end of February, and that is the expiry date of our winter sojourn. It’s been many things – an education, a delight, a chance to explore, to reacquaint ourselves with places and people we haven’t seen for a long time, and crucially, an opportunity to make changes to the boat that will see us into the next decade.

It was in November that we finally made it onto their chance to do regular school pick ups, join the support team on football training and match touchlines, help at his Beaver scout group, join school activities and help with homework projects which have taught us too.

The boat has been upgraded to a new battery system which has totally changed how we can live aboard, and another revolution in onboard living and working is being constructed on land as I write, ready for installation in early March.

Before then, we have much to do – ripping out, clearing, reducing unnecessary items, and that’s not been constrained to our floating home/office. When we left bricks and mortar over five years ago, we put some items we couldn’t bear to part with in store, and these past months have been the time to review them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say, but it can also make the resolve grow stronger. If it hasn’t been used or even missed in five years, then maybe it should go.

Ugh – how can my kitchen space be such a chaotic mess?

Once more we’ve created the piles of keep, donate, and dispose. Once more we’ve made good use, while we still have it, of the car. EBay, facebook marketplace, charity shops, Vinted, and as a very last resort, the local tip, have been destinations of choice and necessity.

After the next major work on the boat, we will do a final sweep of the boat and the store, and I’m sure more will come to light. It’s a major way of spring cleaning, I guess, but vital. It is surprising that on the boat, even though it is such a limited space, items accumulate and get forgotten. I’ve been appalling in sticking to the maxim of one on, one off, and have smuggled all sorts of things on board. In the same way it is easy to leave items in store that just sit there because you can’t decide what to do with them. Now we need to be brutal, and no doubt in a few years’ time we will need to do the same again!

It’s interesting how one’s perspective changes with time. Things I considered just five years ago were essential to keep have found their way to charity shops this week. Partly, I suspect, because we’ve changed our views for now about moving back to bricks and mortar.

A few weeks ago, we met up with a couple we helped during the long final lockdown. Both remain continuous cruisers, both will celebrate their 80th birthdays this year and both are not in brilliant health but they too feel even though they could buy a bricks and mortar home tomorrow, that they would lose a wonderful way of life by doing so. They are inspiring, and in a way, their recognition of the beauty of narrowboat life as ccers is comforting. At the same time, we are seeing stories I’m sure many of you have seen this week of a boat that has apparently been stripped and sunk on the Coventry Canal. There has also been the seasonal flurry of boats for sale, just as the usual annual bricks and mortar flurry of homes for sale at this time of year.

Buds appearing everywhere – even on the fished from the canal trainers acting as roof planters!

It’s the way of things, the changing of the seasons, and we all need to clear out, sort out, and spring clean, ready for the blossoming of a fresh new year. We all need our nests to be functional, well structured, and safe at this time of year, whether they are up in the treetops or floating on the water.

A Lover-ly time to be afloat

This week has seen a flurry of red roses, cards with hearts, and lots of soppy messages on social media. For many, it brightened the gloom of this often dreary time of the year. For others, I recognise it’s depressing or underlines loneliness, and for some it’s all hype and unnecessary.

It made me think about the ways in which boaters show how much they care for each other, and consider the differences from when we used to live in bricks and mortar. The Skipper, it has to be said, despite or perhaps because of that Yorkshire heart beating inside him, is a HUGE romantic.

For him Valentine’s Day means producing cards and flowers hidden somehow aboard, as well as producing chocolates of the kind I adore. But there are so many other things he does during the year as we boat and live afloat, that show me just how much he cares, even now after 36 years of marriage and a few more years before that.

There is one boat job I hate, but I can count on one hand how many times I’ve had to empty loo cassettes thanks to my Valentine (and there are several each week to be seen to).

Love is – emptying bins and loos in all weathers ❤️

He puts on the kettle and gets the fire hot on wintery mornings whilst I’m still snuggled under the duvet so I can get up to a warm boat and a hot cuppa. Equally he stokes up the fire until it’s as toasty as I like it, and merely removes another layer until he’s in his T-shirt…or less!

He never complains about the lumpy cushions on the sofa (one place I store my wool stash), and puts up with knitting, crochet and weaving projects all over the place, always being fulsome with praise when they’re finally finished and even more fulsome with praise when they’re sold (and off the boat)!

At this time of the year, he moves coal and wood around from source to boat, roof to cratch, so I rarely have to lug it about but can still stay warm.

He helps carry shopping down muddy icy towpaths, and when we cruise, he willingly shares tiller and windlass duties.

He also puts up with me decades of me listening to The Archers.

And crucially this week he’s never said anything about me having to do a Speed Awareness Course – not because of violations on the waterways I’m glad to say!

Many of these tasks that happen so regularly for all boaters are for me regular reminders of how much my Valentine cares and as an assistant in Sainsbury’s said this week as I shopped for something whisky for him instead of flowers or chocolates, it’s the little things that happen every day of the year that matter. We agree, but an excuse to give whisky, flowers, and chocolates is something we appreciate too.

We spent Valentine’s Day together appropriately down Memory Lane – in a boat. Well, Memory Lane Wharf in Leicester, to be precise, in CRT workboat Aylesbury litter picking and clearing buddleia and brambles with other Canal River Trust volunteers.

Then it was out for a late cafe lunch, home to the boat to warm up and get a bit of work done, followed by a walk with Boatdog (the other BIG Valentine love) for a packet of mini Cheddars (her faves) and a pint in the Soar Bridge before home for a meal. If I’m honest most of the Boatdog’s adoration is cupboard love… but who cares?

I love you, I do, if you’ve got mini Cheddars…or Biscoff biscuits…

A good day, a day of giving back, sharing tasks and time.

Many boaters, I think, can be real softies at heart. There are lots of boats called Valentine, Love Bug, First Love, Lady Love, Tru/True Love and probably the most truthful of all when applied to a boat – Labour of Love.

Perhaps the greatest thing of all is being able and supported to live the life you love. It isn’t easy all the time. It isn’t all plain sailing. It is, though, something unlike any other way of life. It isn’t like living in a van or on a yacht, although there are similarities, living on a narrowboat as continuous cruisers is liberating, infuriating, and inspiring. It is also something that is so much easier when there are two of you pulling together, having each others backs and sharing the many good and occasional bad times together.

Living together is just an extension of what it’s like to live on a boat – storms, floods, sunshine, and showers but with treats of chocolates and flowers too at this time of year.

Giving back gives more than expected

One advantage of spending the winter in one place has been the chance to formally become volunteers with the charity that has responsibility for the waterways we live on – Canal and River Trust.

Volunteering has brought unexpected blessings and benefits to us, and many others

On 2 July 2012, CRT, as a charity, took over from the previous government authority, British Waterways, who ran the network before them. BW also had a charitable arm, The Waterways Trust, which merged with CRT and brought with it the responsibility for museums on the network at Stoke Bruerne in Northamptonshire, Ellesmere Port and Gloucester Docks.

The Waterways Trust and BW benefitted from volunteers, and thousands of people now volunteer with CRT every year. Boaters like us sometimes see volunteer lock keepers helping in the season with particularly difficult or busy places like the lock flights at Hatton, Foxton, Caen Hill, Hillmorton, and Watford.

We also have seen volunteers out maintaining towpaths and structures like steps and lock landings, cutting back undergrowth from the land and the water. Until now I really wasn’t aware of the scope of volunteers roles within the Trust, the importance of their work for the charity who like so many charities depend heavily on the continued, consistent commitment of their volunteer force. Their contribution enables the Trust to spread its limited budget more effectively across the 2000 mile network.

Being able to sign up as volunteers and commit regularly to working with others who give their time and effort to support not only the Trust’s work but the network of waterways in their own local area has been both humbling, inspiring, educational and invigorating.

Since completing our basic initial training, both the Skipper and I have been undertaking different tasks. Boatdog and I have become enthusiastic litter pickers and undergrowth clearers whilst the Skipper has been carrying substrate to fill towpath holes, wielding loppers, and working with others to clear overgrown steps and paths.

Volunteers are managed in geographic groups, mostly supporting the area where they live or have connections. Some are boaters, and a few like a couple we met this week are live aboards who live in a marina, but all we’ve met have affinity to a single place. This week, we joined with another group, and together, the two groups tackled litter around Belgrave Lock in Leicester on the Grand Union Leicester Line. With two volunteer managers employed by CRT and a work boat, we attacked the debris and detritus around the lock island, surrounding trees, bushes, and towpath.

Between us, 50 bags of rubbish and a huge amount of other items from rubble sacks and all manner of containers were collected in a single day. I found underwear (ugh), 2 t-shirts, 3 boots (all different sizes and 1 sari among the items strewn in trees and near the lock. Removing those along with all those bags of plastic, metal and glass will reduce issues for locks, boats, and wildlife habitats as well as making the entire area look better.

It’s an effort which we’ve signed up to continue over the rest of the month, working steadily along the canal towards Birstall Lock. Together with the same dedicated team we will make a significant difference. That team includes volunteers like Kenneth, an awesome volunteers who is an example to us all. He took to the workboat, cutting and moving rubbish and debris, and Kenneth is 94 years old. He reckons volunteering keeps him essentially active and was awarded his 500 hours recognition at the end of last year.

Kenneth is second from the right on the boat in his safety gear with others

Kenneth and all the other volunteers each contributing when and how they can have spurred me on to do more. On Valentine’s Day the Skipper and I have signed up to spread some love among the inner city wildlife setting up bird and bat boxes at Memory Lane mooring, and of course litter picking once more to try and give them a better environment. I’m also keen to get local schools in the area involved in recognising the dangers and problems litter creates for the environment and the creatures that live in it. If we can reduce litter from collecting in the first place, we can focus volunteer efforts in other areas where they are also needed.

Spreading the word about the waterways and the value they bring to so many people, creatures and the environmental benefits is yet another role of volunteers, and one which many undertake.

On a selfish note- this volunteering has immense benefits for us, too. Not only do we get to cruise and live in cleaner, safer environments which are more pleasant, more populated with wildlife but we also get to work in often beautiful places out in the fresh air, being active as Kenneth says, and crucially undertaking tasks which give the immense satisfaction of being able to see the impact of what we are doing.

My step count is clearly benefitting from volunteering days, as is Boatdog’s! We get to meet and spend time with enthusiastic, interesting people, to learn more about the area we are working in, see the waterway from a different perspective, and recognise a job well done.

Volunteering like this in Towpath Taskforces and as Rangers is something which we are keen to continue when we leave our winter mooring at the end of February and return to continuous cruising. Who would want to give up something that makes you feel so good? And as Kenneth has shown us – we’ve got decades of volunteering still to give!

Our new super power!

This week has seen the single biggest revolution in our off grid life.

Our 50ft floating home/office/workshop, since we bought her 7 years ago, has been powered by 3 lead acid Albion leisure batteries. Initially, they were charged by running the engine, and they in turn powered the items we need – lights, laptop, mobile phones, and pumps for the water, shower, and bilge. After we added solar panels during the third pandemic lockdown, it made a massive difference to how we lived, the batteries were regularly replenished by free solar energy, but they couldn’t use all that was freely on offer.

Lead acid batteries have an expected lifespan of 2-5 years depending on how you look after them and the type of usage they have. Ours for a permanent live aboard situation have been nurtured – we’ve never allowed them to fall below 50%, and last year we noticed they weren’t holding charge as they used to. We made the (expensive outlay) decision to replace them, but not like with like. We, like so many in the boating world have made the decision to invest in new technologies and go for lithium iron phosphate (LiFePO4).

Those who have gone down this route are vocal about the advantages – capacity to maximise the available solar being one of them. The lead acid batteries could take so much solar and then the rest just went to waste.

We are also future proofing our boat to make life easier and even more enjoyable. Having greater power capacity will enable us to remove the gas from on board. We currently use gas just for cooking and some water heating via a 4 burner hob. That means storing two 13kg gas cylinders at the back of the boat. Each lasts between 4 and 7 months depending on the season. Those cylinders take up a fair amount of space that we could use for much needed storage. Additionally they require heaving up and lowering down into their locations – not the easiest of tasks.

So…if the gas should go what would replace it? Friends Ali and Jon on nb Warrior have replaced gas on their boat entirely and they survive very happily without it. They have an electric oven and hob so that got us thinking. We’re moving to an induction hob and…wait for it…an (controversial to some) air fryer.

Having used both an induction hob and air fryer whilst staying with a friend in the summer I became a convert but our lead acid batteries and Victron inverter (the latter turns the power from the 12 volt batteries into 230 volts so we can run things like our washing machine, charge the hoover and ultimately use devices that require the 230 volts of shore based power current). That would include an air fryer, but our lead acid batteries would struggle with the latter. They only managed the washing machine because we run the engine when it’s on, and jump start each wash with a flask of boiling water before running it on a cold wash. Recently, the last few washes have been a bit of a struggle, and twice we’ve had to stop the machine part way to allow the batteries to recover power. That’s left me watching a soggy load of washing sitting in the drum until the batteries recovered sufficiently to carry on…

So we knew we needed to replace our batteries. Good friends Al and Tina on nb Wobbly have along with many, many boaters advised going down the lithium route and in the world of boat electrics, one name kept coming up to sort such a major change – Ed Shiers of Four Counties Marine. Fellow boaters like Robbie Cumming on nb Naughty Lass and Matt & Clare Brown on Nb Quisqualis talk of Ed’s knowledge, attention to detail, and efficiency. When we travelled up the Leek branch of the Caldon Canal, we met up with him and sought his advice on the best solution for us, for our needs (current and future). We knew we were going to have to replace the old batteries, so replacing them with a system that would take us a long way into the future made sense.

Ordered Lithium Iron Phosphate super charged replacement

As a result, in October last year, we ordered a new LiFePO4 battery and, most importantly, got Ed Shiers on standby to install it plus a new alternator in November when it arrived. These batteries are currently shipped to the UK from…you’ve guessed it – China.

November came and went. December became the promised delivery date, and we were by now watching and nurturing the old batteries like small children.

December came and went. January was then the promised date, and yes, you’ve guessed it – last Friday, the battery finally arrived. A pretty major plus was that somehow, between order at £1,900 each and the final arrival, it had come down in price to £1,300.

This new replacement has a 10 year warranty and its expected minimum life is for 8, 000 cycles. An average lead acid battery has 3-500 cycles.

So last Friday this apparently lightweight (their description not mine) battery of 60.23kg arrived to a land address for us, and on Tuesday we moved the boat to a location which would make it easier to lug said lightweight battery on board and for Ed to come and work onboard. As we moved from our winter mooring at Barrow upon Soar, navigation was green for go and water levels lower than we’ve seen them for weeks. We stopped for water at the water point, but ironically, as it turned out, pressure was so low that we couldn’t get any water into our tank at all. Never mind – we thought – we’ll carry onto the next. But as we made our way along the River Soar, strong flows made for even slower going than normal. Before we reached Mountsorrel, my phone pinged with a Soar Navigation warning:

“We advise skippers of all boats not to navigate the Leicester Line (Grand Union Canal) from Kings Lock through to the River Soar at Redhill Lock. The strong flows make it difficult and dangerous, and locks may also be closed.”

Too late – we couldn’t turn round, so we just had to keep going. By the time we reached Mountsorrel Lock, the indicator was showing red river levels. We had to hastily take the chimney off to get the boat under the road bridge before the lock, as the level was pushing us so high in the water.

We got under the bridge and through the lock (fortunately not closed) and went straight onto the mooring beyond with relief. We shelved the idea of heading up to Sileby Mill for water and diesel – those can wait.

The river here flows fiercely towards both the lock and an adjoining weir, and it was certainly flowing hard and fast. For the next couple of days we rose gently so there was a good step up to and down from the boat, but we had hard standing, mooring bollards and a nearby pub with car park – what more can one ask?

Getting the battery moved took some doing – thanks, Alice and Chris! We then moved it by car to the pub car park and using a sack trolley plus Ed, we got it to the boat. Getting it onto the boat, which was high in the water, demanded three of us and a ramp. We slid it up the ramp – one of us pulling from the boat, one pushing from the towpath and the third straddling the gap of river between the two so it didn’t fall in and sink. Once on the back of the boat, it then needed to be lowered into the battery tray made for us months ago by precision welder Paul Barber at Sheet Stores Basin on the Erewash Canal.

A perfect fit – you can hardly see the welded tray it sits in

Getting the battery in, working, connected up to a newly installed 150amp Bosch alternator to replace our previous old 70amp one, linked into the solar power system, installing a regulator together with new fuses, a new battery monitor and making sure everything was working took Ed a long day and a half of hard graft. He was hugely efficient, hugely knowledgeable and also a very nice person to have around.

So we now have a completely new power system. It will allow us in time to remove our gas cylinders, move to an electric induction hob, but for the minute I don’t have to worry that the batteries are going to slowly die on us. I don’t have to remember to charge them every day (using diesel) or wonder if they have enough power to get our clothes clean. Nor do we need to turn the fridge off every night.

Like so many expensive boat items, the battery and alternator are invisible, like the swans paddling on the river alongside us with powerful feet under the water, the power beneath us is now hidden from sight! We will be donating the old batteries and alternator as they still have some life left in them to a charity and also when the time comes, the gas bottles.

We are hugely grateful to Ed for fitting us into his packed schedule when he is in such demand. We highly recommend him if you have anything that floats or moves in need of any electrical work!

The change this week has brought to our lives afloat will be something we experience and appreciate daily going forward. It will save us money in the long term – less wear on the engine, less diesel to power the battery, quieter operation when mooring as well as giving us new exciting options… like an air fryer, more storage and the chance to benefit fully from every ray of sunshine (and those are far more frequent than you might think)!

It’s a positive, superpowered start to 2025 for us!

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