A wet start to the day in more ways than one. Returning to the laundry with my recently acquired tokens (and half price milk because I cheekily asked for a reduction when I saw the sell by date was today!) I once again put the token in the wrong coin slot on the wall, this time the one next to my washing machine so I had to move my sopping washing into the other drum, wetting the floor in the process and no sign of a mop! Then I discovered there was still water in the first machine. My used disposal able coffee cup from yesterday was luckily the only thing in the nearby bin so I transferred the water by the cupful to the sink, thus making the floor even wetter – at least the next punter won’t be wondering why there was 2″ of water left in the washing machine!
It was wet and a bit windy but if we never travel in the rain we won’t be going many places and we have good waterproofs. The boat batteries needed a good charge and I wanted to return something to the chandler’s in Braunston. What could have been a ten minute car journey only took us four and a half hours by boat!! The reason soon became clear. As you exit the marina, immediately there is a flight of three locks and as it was quite windy the boat was veering to the left accompanied by driving rain. I suggested to R this might not be quite such a good idea afterall but he thought we should at least go through one lock and then return to the marina. We entered the lock and it filled with water but instead of R opening the gate he suggested I got off the boat – he wanted to show me something. I was rather surprised to see a widebeam and a narrowboat both beached on the mud in the pound (pond) above, leaving a narrow shallow course of water between the two locks. A bit like the reverse problem of wondering if a puddle in the road is too deep to drive through! Until the water level rose we were going nowhere, so R went off to let in 3 or 4 locks worth of water by opening up the sluices of the upper locks, making sure the pounds above were not drained in the process. R met up with a boat coming down the flight of locks so assisted him through the shallows but all this took quite some time. Meanwhile I tried to find a number for the CRT to let them know about the low water levels. Having been thus distracted I was alarmed to see Naomhog at least 7ft below ground level, yet all the sluices and gates were closed. Images of her stuck in the mud at the bottom of the lock flooded my mind. Fortunately R came into view and I waved at him like a maniac to get his attention. Far calmer than me he explained one of the lock paddles was faulty thus continually letting out the water. By now the boat was back to the level of the water on the other side of the bottom gate so R opened the gate and I reversed out. Another twenty minutes of refilling the pounds and all was well, including a brightening in the weather so we decided to continue to Braunston, a good decision as the afternoon sunshine enhanced the beautiful autumnal colours. Murders of crows (rooks?) circling leafless oaktrees and gathering in the bare branches was an uplifting sight.
We weren’t quite sure where to moor up for the night as Braunston itself is a junction meaning we could go in three different directions. What we didn’t want to do was find that we were unable to turn the boat when we want to go back to our marina in a day or so (very windy weather forecast tomorrow so we may just sit tight) which meant a reckie was in order.
Leaving Naomhog, we trudged along an extremely muddy potholed towpath, R almost slipping into the canal at one point! Dusk was falling as we got chatting to a boater who was just leaving their mooring to move slightly further along the cut. P had horror stories to tell and not many a good word for the CRT who she feels wastes money and doesn’t prioritise the right issues. Over the past 13 years she has seen such changes that she’s going to sell her boat and buy a campervan to travel around Europe, as many of her boating friends have done. The final straw came in 2020. She had booked a passage through a long tunnel in the North (some tunnels you can only go through with permission so that boats don’t collide) in preparation for getting to the Midlands to start a new job. Just before the tunnel were some locks which had been closed with no prior warning, due to a lack of water. Infact, P told us, this was poor management by CRT as these locks are fed by their own reservoir. If the CRT had restricted the movement of boats to one or two a day, traffic would have freely flowed, instead of which they closed the flight for seven weeks and a backlog of over twenty boats caused an additional waterflow problem. As a result P lost her job, her income and covid has hampered her efforts to find alternative employment. This led to a bout of depression and the decision to quit the waterways. All a bit depressing to hear when you have just bought a boat a few days previously! Lots of surprises though – she has three sewing machines and an interlocker on her boat, a table 8ft by 4ft, so that she can upcycle her copious supply of denim jeans, to make bags to sell on Etsy. She then plans to make cratch covers – very enterprising on a boat only 6ft wide! On reflection, I think it hardly surprising she has fallen out of love with the boating way of life. Perhaps a decade of living fully aboard is hard work, especially if you have a job that necessitates you not being held up by stoppages. In all walks of life our plans can be thwarted and changed and it is our attitude towards new challenges that may determine how resilient we become and thus how content we feel. Having been busy and task orientated for so long, it is a welcome change to start most new days with no set agenda, trying to live in the moment and be exited by what lies ahead and the people we may meet. Trusting our time to God!
Enough of philosophy! A very inviting looking pub bedecked in Christmas lights and a big sign saying ‘gin pub’ tempted us to moor nearby, but not so close that we would be bedazzled. However getting there proved problematic as the bridge to it was further along the cut and the incessant rain was a dampner. Internet in the boat was strong, enabling us to Zoom with the family to wish our eldest daughter a happy birthday. I still find it amazing that we can connect together all around the world – Jamaica, Spain and even on a London bus (admittedly being rather silent!), whilst we are in a tin can! With the pub out of the equation I set about trying the boat oven: roast chicken and a brown rice pudding (didn’t have any pudding rice so substituted short grain brown!) using dried figs for sweetness and a touch of cinnamon. I was spurred on by my short-dated milk and my mother’s voice ringing in my ears that you don’t put an oven on for baking just one thing! The wood stove had sufficient heat to boil the vegetables and I even made chicken stock which is slowly simmering in my Wonderbag (suggest a google if you are perplexed!). It will be interesting to see if that works! I was also delighted to see my milk kefir had thickened during the day proving that you don’t need warmth for the kefir seeds to ferment. My kefir has accompanied me on all our recent travels so I am chuffed to have kept it alive. Not sure that pleases R. Another strange substance his wife is feeding him. A couple of years ago it was green porridge but thankfully that fad has passed!
A Christmas movie finished off the evening but it was a bit too smultzy. For those of you who are unaware, there is a channel devoted to showing at least four different American produced Christmas movies a day! By the way we solved the bed issue last night – when R got up in the night I just moved across to his side of the bed so he didn’t have to clamber back over me. That way I am on his left and right and he spends a proportion of the night fully stretched!
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NarrowboatTLC 