A magical evening by the canal

We've passed through the Fishery Lock on the GU at Boxmoor several times. The last time was back in May this year. And in May, the Fishery Inn was still empty after a period of several years, and the Fishery Wharf Café didn't even exist. So it was with some surprise and great delight that we visited the new Café last Saturday evening, discovering as we did so that the ancient Inn is now at last open again, and doing a roaring trade.

photos - www.thefisheryinnhemelhempstead.co.uk

The two-month-old Fishery Wharf Café was hosting the fourth annual Dacorum FolkFest, and this was very special to us because The Company of Players were performing together for just the second time since their founding earlier in the year.

"The Company of Players is the brainchild of Said the Maiden's Jess Distill. Inspired by other collaborative folk projects such as The Full English, The Elizabethan Sessions and Songs for the Voiceless, Jess wanted to bring together some of her favourite up and coming folk musicians to collaborate on a body of work celebrating Shakespeare 400. The Company of Players comprises some of the country's brightest young folk stars: Said the Maiden (Jess Distill, Kathy Pilkinton and Hannah Elizabeth), Kelly Oliver, Sam Kelly, Kim Lowings, Lukas Drinkwater, Chris Cleverley, Daria Kulesh and Minnie Birch. The group spent a week together in a house in Belper, Derbyshire, writing, arranging and recording songs based on the works of William Shakespeare." (from their Festival brochure)

The Festival was a great success, despite the rainy start at 1:00pm. Local funding enabled them to make admission free to all up until 6:30, during which time five members of the Company - Kelly, Kim, Lukas, Chris and Daria - each played a 45-minute set.

photos by Keith Bache (@KeithBache)

Unfortunately, Minnie Birch was on tour in Ireland, and couldn't be there. There was an additional act, too, Al Scorch and Jess McIntosh bringing folk songs from the USA.

photo - @dacorumfolkfest

Admission after 7:00pm was by ticket. A large number stayed who'd been there during the afternoon, and a host of newcomers swelled the audience to a good size. Said the Maiden played a stunning 45 minutes; Sam Kelly likewise. The audience loved them.

photos - Keith Bache (@KeithBache)

photo - @dacorumfolkfest

But the greatest magic came next.

The Company of Players had been publicly launched at the Bristol Folk Festival over the May Bank Holiday this year. This was their second gig. They come from all over the country, and had only been able to rehearse once since May - in our house the evening before. Nine of them squashed onto a small stage. It took nearly half an hour for them to arrange themselves in that space, and to get their mics and instruments set up. They did a sound check. Many in the audience thought they'd started their set, and applauded and cheered loudly.

photo by Keith Bache (@KeithBache)

But then they sang, and they played, and they won an audience to whom they were totally unknown. They performed a total of 12 songs, introduced by the members who had written them. Because Minnie wasn't there, Jess sang her song for her. Most of the songs involved all nine of them in one way or another. And you'd never have guessed that they hadn't been playing together for years. It was truly astounding. It was a privilege to be there.

photos by Keith Bache (@KeithBache)

   

The rain had stopped, and the organisers took down the marquee wall nearest to the canal just a couple of metres away. It was nearly dark. A working boat chugged out of the lock and exchanged waves with the audience. Jess said how lovely it was to be performing in such a setting.

photos - @dacorumfolkfest

"My mum and dad live on a narrowboat," she said. "They're here this evening. Ironically, they came by car!"

The Company played on, and after their repertoire had been exhausted, the audience gave them a noisy, standing ovation, and wouldn't let them go, calling for more. 

"But that's all we have!" protested the musicians. But loud voices demanded an encore of Jess's song "Method in the Madness" (aka "The Hamlet Hoedown"), and a bunch of people went to the front and danced in front of the stage as the Company reprised the song. And the audience clapped and stamped their feet.

photo - @dacorumfolkfest

And after prolonged applause, numerous thanks to all those involved in the day's success, and more applause, the festival finished. There was a lot of excitement. People went to see various of the musicians, to congratulate, to ask questions. CDs were purchased. People drifted off home, leaving the Company overwhelmed.

photo - Keith Bache (@KeithBache)

They came back to our house to share their triumph, to unwind. Eventually, to sleep, perchance to dream. Some of them on our floors.

It had been an amazing event. Watch out for more from The Company of Players!

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.

Out of Berkhamsted

Monday morning greeted us with squally downpours and very strong winds, hitting us broadside on, and shaking us around a lot. The mooring pins remained firm, to our amazement. We were needing an Elsan disposal point, and were a bit concerned about our gas supply. One of the two bottles was already empty, and we were thinking the other couldn't have much left in it by now. And water was low. And there were bags of rubbish littering the well-deck. We needed to get moving, charge the batteries, and to find services and someone to sell us gas. But we were not going to leave in the current weather.

It did improve enormously in the afternoon, though. It was till very windy indeed, but now it was blowing through a blue and sunny sky. Our Nicholson Canal Guide showed a boatyard just a little way down the canal, so we strolled out to find it, and see if it would be open the next day. It had gone. It was now a very attractive house, and several other modern buildings.

We strolled on for a while, bought some food, and returned to the boat. The playground was very busy again.

Tuesday, we set off at last. The weather was far better. NB Renaissance joined us through the locks as far as Winkwell, where we stopped at Middlesex & Herts Boat Services. Here, we received excellent service from a young man who replaced our empty gas cylinder, topped up both diesel tanks, and provided a hose for filling our water tank. This all despite the fact that we were very awkwardly breasted up against a boat that was being worked on, and it all involved much clambering and hauling. I disposed of the waste, too, and we left an hour later with Kantara feeling fully recovered.

At the bottom of Winkwell Locks, it rained. And hailed. Hailed harder. And stopped, and the sun came out again. It must be nearly summer! The water was very high, towing paths very wet and muddy – almost impassable in places.

Despite the height of the canal, though, when it came to mooring at Boxmoor, we failed several times because of the shallowness at the bank. The water was high, but so was the bottom of the canal! Finally, we stopped for the night at a good spot just above Boxmoor Lock. Hemel Hempstead looks so much better from the canal!