On the cut again!

And when Michelle arrived on Saturday, the wind speed was extreme. I'd already contacted her to tell her to take it easy on the roads, there was no hurry because we weren't going anywhere in that wind. Nor did we on Sunday, for the same reason. Only wetter. So we chatted, had a Sunday roast at The Wheatsheaf, played games and enjoyed the pattering of the rain on the roof and the rocking of the boat by the gale.

Monday was much better, so off we went, Crick Tunnel, Watford Locks, and first stop below Buckby Top Lock.

As you can see from the photos, the weather was in our favour. Once moored, we wandered down a few hundred metres to the Anchor Cottage Crafts Canal Shop. Grace and I had sailed or walked past it so many times, but never given it more than a glance. We expected it to stock bread, milk, tea and coffee, that kind of thing, along with a handful of crafts. How wrong were we!? Its tiny space was cram packed with a huge range of lovely crafted items. Not a loaf of bread or bottle of milk to be seen, though there are ice-creams.

Grace bought a wooden egg-box, having searched low and high for one for months. It now sits happily on our galley worktop.

Our descent of the rest of the Buckby flight the next day was simplified by sharing with another boat, and more often than not finding locks ready for us to enter. There was a nationwide shortage of water across the whole network and, like many other locks no doubt, opening times were restricted and boaters encouraged to share as often as possible.

We stopped at the bottom of the flight for shopping at the marina, and for lunch, before moving on to Weedon Bec.

 

The weather was perfect until the next morning, when it poured with a wind-driven rain that made the camper-vans opposite look bleak. When that eased off, we pushed on towards Stoke Bruerne, but the rain paid a return visit and Grace and I got totally soaked while our guest was under orders to stay inside. Blisworth Tunnel was very welcome - it was a lot drier in there!

courtesy of waterways.org.uk

We changed out of our dripping attire and had lunch. Then an abatement of the downpours allowed us to go out for a stroll around the wharf, and the afternoon was really pleasant. Until I ran the engine.

Our batteries had been showing signs of failing. They're six years old, way past their guarantee age, and no longer holding their charge very well. I ran the engine for a couple of hours to recharge them so that we'd have 12v power throughout the evening, and I was on my way to switch it off when the engine coughed, spluttered and stopped. After a good deal of head scratching and not daring to try to restart it more than once, we left the flipping thing and went to the Boat Inn, where Michelle treated us to a fine dinner.

I called RCR first thing the next morning, and Dylan duly arrived within a couple of hours. It didn't take him long to find what was wrong. Diesel bug!

We were fortunate. There is a filter in the fuel line that extracts water as the diesel passes through, and this had collected all of the gunk that the bug creates (as seen above). It had got to the point where the fuel flow became totally blocked, stopping the engine. The second filter down the line was totally unaffected, but Dylan changed both filters anyway to be thorough, and left to attend to his next call-out. Excellent service!

The previous day, we'd moored a few tens of metres past the winding-hole, so we stern-hauled Kantara back to it, turned around and headed into the tunnel, on our way back now to Yelvertoft.

The weather was up and down, but never too extreme. We overnighted at the same spots we'd chosen on our way out, and stopped for an hour or so at Weedon for Michelle to see the old church, and to buy food and chocolate. Buckby Locks had to be navigated alone. There were no other craft behind us for miles as it happened. Anyway, the restrictions had been removed, so there wasn't the urgency about saving water any more. But that didn't excuse me for allowing a top gate to swing open and drop the level in the pound above quite significantly. Michelle and I hurried back to close it when Grace saw how low the water had got.

Watford Locks was... Watford Locks, Crick Tunnel was navigated behind a rather slow hire boat, Yelvertoft Marina presented a stiff breeze while Grace struggled a bit to reverse into our berth. We ate at The Wheatsheaf again, played our final game of cards, and Michelle drove home on Sunday morning. It had been very good to be out and on the move.