Life back at the house

Monday morning was time for us to leave Kantara in the hands of the team at Debdale. Just before we went, Martin, the man who was going to be dealing with Kantara, gave us a guided tour of another boat which had just finished being zinc-sprayed, and he answered a number of questions we had about the process. Anxieties assuaged, we drove away back to St Albans and a list of decorating jobs to do.

We were already glad of the break when it came to Wednesday afternoon, when we went with a group from church to Chenies Manor.

It's a beautiful, Jacobean manor house that's been extended and altered over the centuries. It's privately owned, so it's only open to the public for just three hours on two days a week. The current owners are responsible for an enormous amount of restoration work, and the interior and exterior are a joy to behold. The gardens, too, are remarkable.

Though much of the grass was being regularly watered, and was very green, the long dry spell had taken a toll on this lawn in particular.

Steve returned from Poland on Friday, having spent several days with Karolina at her parents' home. They actually had quite a lot of rain while we were parched.

Yesterday evening found us eating in a very pleasant restaurant right next to the Kennet and Avon Canal in Reading. We'd driven Jess to a gig in the town - it was the simplest and quickest way for her to get there - and didn't stay for that. We were hungry and thirsty, and we do know their entire repertoire really quite well!

But, having enjoyed a fine, leisurely meal at Browns, we drove back to the venue and caught Said the Maiden's second 45-minute set. We didn't go in (and we're glad we didn't, because it was, Jess told us, unbearably hot and stuffy), but the park bench we sat on looked through a side door onto the stage, so we could enjoy the performance from a very pleasant, much cooler position.

Today? More flipping decorating. Wallpaper stripping. Oh joy!

Well, we're still here

Tuesday's weather meant that the hull-blacking job had to wait. Perched what felt precariously at times on our sleeper supports, we experienced incredibly strong wind, rain and hail throughout the day and the night. Wednesday was better, and work continued. The baseplate was completed, albeit with the wrong paint, for which utter goof they waived the cost of that part of the job. When the hull was almost finished, Kantara was craned onto a trailer and towed to a hardstanding where a behemoth crane lifted her, and lowered her onto wooden blocks.

Waiting for the trailer

We've been here for two nights now. They couldn't put the boat back in the water yesterday, because various bits of touching-up still had to be done. It should happen today, then we'll pack up and go back to St Albans for a few days, leaving Kantara moored near John's painting shed. Next week, we'll be back. But more of that next week.

We've had a few meetings with John to sort out some remaining details of the paint job. He's a great guy to work with. He really knows his craft, and has loads of experience to bring to discussions like these. He knows how to please his customers, but there's no way he'll do something simply because you want him to. He knows what works and what doesn't. He also has a strong sense of what's "right" in terms of tradition, though he is prepared to put that aside if he's pushed. He's done so for us over a couple of details. We're really looking forward to seeing the job completed.

John's co-worker, Dave, took us back to Yelvertoft on Wednesday, to collect the car and bring it back here, and yesterday we drove to a carpet shop we'd already found some weeks ago, there to place an order for new carpet throughout the boat. Only for the floor. The existing dado of original carpet will stay put.

So, here we are, almost twiddling our fingers, waiting to be put back in the water so we can moor up and leave. We have the worst outlook from our windows that we've ever had. Wooden fence on one side and a large corrugated shed wall on the other. Entrance and exit is from the stern only, via a set of steps. Worst of all, the boat is totally motionless! We actually miss the normal background movement on the water. It sounds silly, I know, but we both feel it's disturbing our sleep.

Work starts, eventually.

It wasn't exactly "first thing" when they started on the job of blacking Kantara. Everyone seemed very laid-back about it, so we simply had to get used to waiting while the staff here did various things other than tend to Kantara's needs. John Barnard came to see us and chat over the work that he'd be doing. He was very confident that she would be a pretty straightforward job, but that we'd have to wait for him to start, too. The job he's on at the moment has been delayed for various reasons, so it could well be the 18th of the month before he starts. He did say, however, that he still reckoned on finishing by the same date as he'd previously given us. He's taken on extra help so that he can catch up with his schedule.

Finally, Grace was able to ease the boat into the bay from which she was craned up and laid on trestles. Kantara, that is, not Grace.

Then came a two-hour pressure-hosing.

So Grace and I left them to it. Strolled down the towing path towards Foxton Locks, cold and windy, lined with tiny violets. There was a man in a tree. Sitting there, doing nothing. Wearing a hi-vis jacket and a hard-hat, so obviously official. The tree he was sitting on must be quite famous amongst boaters. It is one of an adjacent pair which have been for many years threatening to fall across the canal, looming at less than 45 degrees across towards the towing path, and causing the skipper of every boat passing beneath to speed up, lest it choosethat moment to fall on them. Except now, one of the pair was no more, and the second, the one this man was sitting on, had been halved in size. He was, he told us, waiting, not to be rescued as we had imagined, but for someone to bring him a bigger saw for him to finish the job.

We carried on to the Foxton Locks Inn for lunch.

The pub was surprisingly busy, we thought, for a Monday at this time of year. Come high summer, the place will be packed daily. Stopping to buy the penultimate bottle of milk from the tiny shop where Grace had bought the ultimate loaf of bread the other day, we walked back to Debdale. The trees had gone. So had the man up the tree. Boaters will be very thankful as they glide past in future. One of the team remained, clearing up the smaller bits of tree from the towing-path. 

Back at Debdale, the washing had almost finished. We were able to inspect the hull sides and baseplate, and we were really pleased to see how intact the blacking still was that had been done two years ago.

The "bobbles" on the surface are drops of water.

Now, however, the paint rollers had all absconded, and some minion was seconded to go and buy more. But it was raining now, so the painting has to wait until tomorrow. We were escorted back into the boat. Aeroplane-type steps were provided for us to ascend to the six-feet-high club that is, for the time being, our home.

Well, that was interesting!

Wind. Lots of it, and very strong. When we finally got to leave our mooring yesterday morning, the gusts were the kind of gusts that try to knock you off your feet. Luckily, it didn't make too much difference to Grace as she drove Kantara down the flight, but I was buffeted lots. The volunteer lockies said they'd never had it so bad. We're in Debdale Marina at the now, and it's still that bad. We're moored to a pontoon which is only about a third of Kantara's length, and so close to the boat next to us that we could only just get a side fender between the two of them. We think we won't blow away.

We have a mains electricity feed, which makes the weekend better, whatever the weather. And the weather is dire. Very, very strong winds, and intermittent heavy rain. It's nice not to have to go out.

I forgot to mention the two films we've seen recently. The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel was every bit as good as the The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Possibly better. It certainly wasn't second best. With a strong story, and a cast like that, what can one say about it?

"The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is the expansionist dream of Sonny, and it's making more claims on his time than he has available, considering his imminent marriage to the love of his life, Sunaina. Sonny has his eye on a promising property now that his first venture, The Best ExoticMarigold Hotel for the Elderly and Beautiful, has only a single remaining vacancy-posing a rooming predicament for fresh arrivals Guy and Lavinia. Evelyn and Douglas have now joined the Jaipur workforce, and are wondering where their regular dates for Chilla pancakes will lead, while Norman and Carol are negotiating the tricky waters of an exclusive relationship, as Madge juggles two eligible and very wealthy suitors. Perhaps the only one who may know the answers is newly installed co-manager of the hotel, Muriel, the keeper of everyone's secrets. As the demands of a traditional Indian wedding threaten to engulf them all, an unexpected way forward presents itself."

The other was Focus. Very disappointing. Dull. Both of us slept through bits of it.

1. "Nicky, a veteran con artist, takes a novice named Jess under his wing. While Nicky teaches Jess the tricks of the trade, the pair become romantically involved; but, when Jess gets uncomfortably close, Nicky ends their relationship. Three years later, Nicky is in Buenos Aires working a very dangerous scheme when Jess - now an accomplished femme fatale - unexpectedly shows up. Her appearance throws Nicky for a loop at a time when he cannot afford to be off his game."

And we're off!

On our way to Debdale Wharf for the whole painting jobby. Two pairs of buzzards wheeled overhead as we set off this morning. The sun shone on us periodically, just so we didn't forget it altogether. Birds abounded. A kestrel plummeted out of the sky and snatched up a vole from the towing-path next to us. People were scarce. Boats on the move, even more so. New-born lambs bleated at us as we passed. One shook itself like a dog, and fell over. It feels like ages since we've done this. I just want to keep going.

We're moored up now just above Foxton Top Lock. Debdale tomorrow.

This might be your final look at Kantara's old, tatty paintwork. Actually, the photo does it a justice it doesn't deserve. It really is very thin and tired. You can't see them very well, but the roses on the side were painted by Grace, in practice for the real thing.