Lockdown day 30 - Rediscover this day, April 22nd, 2016

On this day four years ago, we were on the return journey to Yelvertoft, having been down through London via Paddington and Limehouse Basins, and and onto the Lea and Stort navigation, turning at Hertford on the Lea and Bishops Stortford on the Stort. We'd been out since 17th March, and had a brilliant time.

These photos follow our passage through Berkhamsted, a favourite mooring of ours.

The Rising Sun, Berko.

 This fella lives here, has done for years. We see him every time we go through. He's very tame.

FREE house great BEER welcome INSIDE

And on this day, April 22nd  2020...

Cows and trees, two of my favourite things!

"Paint the gaps" indeed!

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I was chuffed to hear yesterday from Janet Richardson, the editor of Towpath Talk magazine (The UK's Number ONE read for all waterways users), that a review of my latest book is to be appear in their June edition. She kindly agreed to me using it in advance of that.

Take a look and buy it from Kindle Books HERE!

£2.50 - That's cheaper than a pint, and it lasts longer!

(Readable on all devices)

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Powerless!

While everyone else was having a lazy Bank Holiday Monday under the sun in parks and gardens, in canalside pubs, sunbathing on the grassy areas around locks, or cycling maniacally and sweatily along the towing-path, or running ditto, we left our Winkwell mooring, winded below the next lock, and made sedate progress up the locks towards Berkhamsted. The locks tended to be slow to fill/empty, and/or leaking, and/or had iffy winding mechanisms. But we had no need to hurry, and it was too hot for that anyway. We would have liked to get to Berko before all of the moorings were taken, but we're ideologically opposed to rushing. Suffice it to say, however, that it took us around an hour and a quarter to cover the distance we'd walked up the canal in half an hour the day before.

We arrived at our destination at around half-past three, finding the one remaining space after dallying below Gas 1 lock, having that "Well, we could moor here. We don't want to pass up a mooring down here and then find there's nowhere to moor above" debate.

We needn't have worried. The mooring above had our name on it.

That's Kantara, fourth boat down!

Berkhamsted was full of  people having a lazy Bank Holiday Monday under the sun in parks and gardens, in canalside pubs, sunbathing on the grassy areas around locks, or cycling maniacally and sweatily along the towing-path, or running ditto.

We awoke the next morning to a no-power situation. Our battery bank was registering 12.1 volts on the monitor when we went to bed, but the fridge must have taken that down to the cut-out level during the night, so now we had no water and no heating - all of them have electric pumps. I filled a water-carrier from the water-point opposite and put the kettle on for tea, and bread under the toaster. Then the gas ran out! Okay, no problem. Switch to the second gas bottle (and for goodness' sake remember to buy a replacement!), and sit back to enjoy tea and toast.

At 8 o'clock I ran the engine to recharge the batteries and, within thirty minutes, systems were restored and we had cold water to flush the loo and for drinking. After an hour, we had hot water for showers, and I no longer had an excuse not to do the washing-up. We moved on after I'd been shocked by the coating of bird poo that had been splattered over Kantara by birds in the tree above us. Shocked into washing the boat. They'd made a really good job of it.

The other side was even worse!

A strange mixture of cloudy sun, bright sun, rain and various strengths accompanied us up to Cowroast Lock. Here we met a couple on a share-boat who'd not long descended the lock but were now wanting to turn around and go back the way they'd come. These unfortunate folk had both sustained injuries which were too painful to continue with. Their logistical problem was that the nearest winding-hole was the one we'd turned in earlier, back at Winkwell - five miles and fifteen painful locks away, after which they'd have to do the same 20 lock/miles to get back to where they were now.

However, there is a winding-hole above Cowroast, so they shared the lock with us, reversing in as Kantara slid in beside them. It's quite odd to see two boats facing opposite directions in a lock! Out of the top of the lock, they continued in reverse, first to the water point, then to the winding hole. We carried on while they were taking on water, and they came along later and moored for the night close to us.

It was a rainy night, with rising winds.

An oddity we passed on the way!

Easter weekend at Winkwell

On Thursday we only had three locks to descend into Berkhamsted.

We left our mooring later than intended and were rather alarmed as we came out of the last lock to find that there we no moorings in sight. We tried two. One was inches too short. The other, we discovered, had four-hour time limit. To the rescue came the skipper of Miss Matty, already moored, who pointed out a space further along, and kindly offered us to breast up to them if that space wasn't adequate. It was a nice offer, but not needed. The very last space before the next lock was fine.

It was warm, sunny, and very boaty.

Fav boat name of the day - Dreckly. And another, as a sort of sub-title to the actual name (which I didn't even notice!) - Pre-dementia adventure.

Sign on garden gate to very nice house alongside a very pleasant mooring spot. "Warning! Very noisy dogs live here! Just so's you know." Some clever psychology being applied there.

Good Friday breakfast was our traditional Hot Cross Buns - excellent ones from nearby M & S. We spent the day chilling under a hot sun (if you see what I mean). The playground opposite sweltered with small children wearing out their parents, while quiet couples murmured hand in hand along the towing path, and family groups walk slowly along, stopping from time to time to place bets on which child was going to fall in next.

It's a Bank Holiday. It's a hot and sunny day. It's a lovely place to be.

On Saturday morning, we moved down to Winkwell, nine lock/miles of pleasant, uneventful cruising. The mooring below lock 60 was almost empty, and we tied up at a lovely spot with the canal on one side of us and the River Bulbourne on the other.

The peace was momentarily spoiled just as we were about to sit down to dinner. Kantara lurched suddenly away from the bank, and hung at an unusual angle. A sure sign of the water level having fallen. Windlass in hand, I ran down to the next lock, expecting to find gates left open, paddles up, water pouring out of our pound at a scary rate. This was not so, however. The lock was filling, a boat rising within. I dashed back to the lock above us, cheered on by merry drinkers at The Three Horseshoes. The pound above this lock is quite long, so I was reckoning on being able to let quite a lot of water down into our pound without affecting boats above us. One gate paddle raised at one top gate and one bottom one, I watched a little nervously as the level rose. Frequent looks at the level above the lock assured me I wasn't causing boats up there to be grounded.

Eventually, Kantara and her one neighbour floated free, and the mudbanks on the off-side of the canal were once again well submerged. Drama over, though we still had no idea why our water had fallen so much, nor whether it might happen again - possibly during the night. I spoke with the crew of the boat that had just come up and moored near us, and told them what was going on. They had just come up from Hemel Hempstead and each of the locks had been left open, apparently by the boat ahead of them. That explained the problem, and it didn't happen again.

Shortly after Sunday noon, Naomi and Eddie, Jess, Steve and Karolina joined us at The Three Horseshoes for lunch, just 100 yards or so away from where Kantara was moored. It's a lovely, 16th century pub.

The food was excellent, the only downside being that the servings of the Sunday Roast were so large that we had no room for dessert!

After that, a long time of catching up with each other's news, a good walk and a deferred dessert - delicious chocolate brownies of Karolina's making - they all drove off back to St Albans, just half an hour away. It had been a really good afternoon.

Berkhamsted again (cruise retrospective)

I went to sleep last night to the gentle sound of ducks pecking at the weed around the hull water-line. I was awoken this morning by the sound of emergency vehicle sirens. Come to think of it, we heard a lot of that yesterday evening. Is Hemel such a troubled town?

We left Boxmoor under a grey sky. It was cold and windy, but looked as if it might improve with time. Fishery Lock was next, the nearby ancient inn still closed and looking sad. Boxmoor Top Lock, then on to Winkwell. I love the electrically controlled swing bridge there. All that power given to you at the press of a button! Barriers come down across the road, lights flash, a claxon sounds, cars and lorries stop, and the bridge swings back, allowing Kantara through. And the road vehicles have to wait patiently for this slow craft, and until I press the button to return the bridge, raise the barriers and let them across. There's a sign by the bridge, warning boaters that failure to "close and fasten" the bridge might result in a ten shilling fine! I felt 50p was a bit steep, so I pressed the button.

photos geograph.org.uk

The unfortunately-named Sewer Lock (I sniffed the air - no nasty smells) surprised us both. As we approached, there was none of the tell-tale leakage from the bottom gates. A sure sign that the lock was empty, and ready for us to enter. Grace drove Kantara right up to the gates, and I jumped off to open them. The lock was in fact full. The gates look very old. There was no sign of recent repairs. But the gates met each other with a perfect seal. This is most unusual!

It was warm now, and I'd peeled off a couple of layers of clothing by the time we arrived at our final locks into Berkhamsted.

The Rising Sun has an amusing welcome sign outside

Another tame heron

Clearly, the home of some Native Americans

At one lock, a bystander was clearly a bit agitated about the way I was ignoring the warning which is commonly seen at top gates.

This is a very valid warning, but the fact is that, with care, the flow from the top paddles can be used very effectively in raising a single narrowboat in a double-width lock.

A single boat going up a wide lock is very likely to be thrown all over the place as the chamber is filled. The use of ropes and bollards goes some way to check this, but we've found that that's usually quite unnecessary. What we do is this...

Grace draws the boat up against a chamber wall. I open the ground paddle on the same side as the boat. The water from this sluice goes across the chamber in front of Kantara, hits the wall opposite, and comes back against the side of her hull, pinning her firmly to the wall. I then cross the top gates and slowly and carefully open the gate paddle on the other side. This has the effect of sending a torrent of water straight down the chamber alongside Kantara, holding her even more firmly against the wall. I can now open the ground paddle on this same side, then, when the water level in the chamber is higher than the other gate paddle, I raise that. All of that has to be done carefully and judiciously, but it's our normal practice, and it works well for us.

At Berkhamsted Lock 53, we found two narrowboats waiting to enter and descend. One of them was being towed by the owner.

photo grandunioncanal,co.uk

The skipper of the other craft and I helped him in and out of the lock. Leading it with just the centre rope (or any single rope, come to that) would have been hard work, and very likely to cause collisions with any part of the lock, or nearby boats. The poor man had been driving along happily, without problems, until he put the boat into reverse. At which point, the Morse handle jammed and he could neither go forwards nor stop going backwards. He had continued in reverse at some speed until he went deeply aground in a reedy bank. And there he had to stay until someone came along who was able to pull him out. Once down the lock, he was going to moor up and try to buy a new Morse cable.

In Berkhamsted, we arrived at our usual spot, and tied up behind NB Muttley. The lady on board recognised Kantara, and came out to tell us she'd read my book, and how much she'd enjoyed it. I was chuffed. She and her husband, along with nearby NB Tickedy-Boo, are on their way to the IWA Canalway Cavalcade, to be held over the May Bank Holiday. She's recently retired, and now does a lot of work for IWA. It's a shame we couldn't have stayed in London to attend the Cavalcade, but the length of the wait was prohibitive.

photo - boatingbusiness.com

Her husband (stupidly, again, we failed to learn their names) very kindly gave us a 500W inverter, for us to power our computers. We've not tried it yet. We're trying to find out if the "modified sine wave output" might damage the computers or their power supplies. It seems that some think it might.

It's raining. That wasn't mentioned by the Met Office. We're here for the night.