Stupidity at Stoke Bruerne

Giffard Park turned out to be a much better mooring than we had expected it to be. It was very peaceful, and the towing-path was little used. There was open parkland opposite us, and quiet housing next to us on our side. It was clean and tidy. We've marked it as a favourite on our map.

It was flipping cold that night. 11° C in the cabin when we woke up. Thank goodness for the stove! It was milder when we left Giffard Park, but got progressively colder as the day got older. With no locks until the one at Cosgrove, I had time to enjoy the serene beauty of the canal; wide, peaceful, lined on one side by full leaf and early flower, and farmland on the other. Duck mothers were out with their ducklings, moorhens with their chicks, and herons on the lookout for feathery breakfasts. Have vegans ever noticed that a lot of birds are not vegan? Many other animals, too. Hmmm. It's sort of letting the side down, isn't it?

At Cosgrove Lock there was a goose nest, cordoned off by some thoughtful soul to keep idiots away. Mum was sitting, and raised one wing as I approached, to reveal several goslings nestled there in a yellow huddle, on display to be adored by enchanted onlookers.

We had intended to moor at Yardley Gobion for the night, and to visit the ancient church and its village, but we couldn't remember if there's any decent mooring there, so we played safe and stopped a couple of miles before, where mooring was good. It was a lovely, remote spot. We thought that perhaps we'd stop off at Gobion if we could when we moved on the next day.

It wasn't as cold the next morning as it had been the day before. It was all of 12° in the boat. We donned multiple layers of clothing against the chill and ambled up to Stoke Bruerne. We didn't stop at Yardley Gobion. We didn't want to delay our arrival at Stoke Bruerne and risk not finding a mooring there. We'll visit the village by car another time.

The five locks at Stoke Bruerne were easy going. There was no other boat to share with, and no vollies in sight. There were several very interested gongoozlers, however, and a lot of conversation most of the way up.

But my enjoyment of the day was very nearly ruined by an couple of elderly tandemists. While I was filling one of the locks, the pair of them crossed the top gates carrying their old (and therefore heavy) tandem bike. They were hindered by the paddle mechanisms and, ironically, the handrail. The top of the gate was too narrow for them to wheel it across, so they manhandled it across, slowly and very precariously. If I'd seen them start I'd have stood in their way and insisted they cycled on to the nearest bridge, but they were half-way across when I saw them. I was too alarmed to think to take photos apart from this one, snapped as they stepped down. It could so easily have resulted in a fatal accident.

Shaken but not stirred, we carried on to tie up below lock 15, next to the Wildlife Trust Nature Reserve, then hurried up to the wharf for some much-needed lunch. The wharf was unsurprisingly full of Bank Holiday visitors, and The Boat Inn was packed, so we had to wait forty minutes for our food. But it was well worth the wait!

 

Soggy Stratford

On Thursday we stopped off at Grove Lock to buy gas and diesel from the marina there. It's an impressive-looking business. Not only is there a very pleasant marina, but also two large and inviting camping sites dotted with caravans and campervans. The next stop was at Linslade, for water, Tesco and lunch. Rain had been promised, but hadn't so far amounted to much.

Mooring at the end of the day was problematic. We wanted to stop at Old Linslade Manor. We made several attempts to pull in to the bank, but found the water too shallow, and had to reverse out, move on and try again. But we were successful eventually, and tied up between bridges 108 and 109. It was an even more suitable mooring than the ones at which we'd failed.

The sky was piled high with fabulous clouds, but still there was no rain.

The CRT guy I met on Monday had said that the Grand Union main line was "really busy", but seriously you wouldn't think that even if you were seeing double! The canal continued to be very quiet. Our five-mile dawdle to Fenny Stratford was peaceful and beautiful, and we met perhaps four other boats, one of which bore Donna and her other half on their way back to their home mooring. Sadly, the five-year-old intermittent engine fault had recurred and forced them into submission, and they'd had to cut short their trip. We waved them farewell and wished them all the best in sorting it all out.

Oh look! A pile of boats!! 

Soulbury Three Locks were bleak and deserted. The pub was empty. Odd. Vladimir Putin was walking back and forth agitatedly in the car park, his phone to his ear. At least, I think it was him. Very odd.

By the time we got to Stoke Hammond, it was raining on and off. When it was on, it was quite hard but mercifully brief. The worst of it was being saved until we got to Fenny Stratford. Here we met up with NB Nutshell, whom we'd seen several times over the past weeks. They were about to enter the lock, so we slipped in next to them. Then it started to rain.

We closed the top gates, and it rained harder. Dropped the paddles, harder still. Opened the bottom paddles - it was really raining hard now! Opened the gates and let Nutshell out ahead of us, was unable to close the swingbridge because - dunno why, closed the bottom gates and dropped the paddles, moored Kantara and wrang the water out of some very wet things, hurried back to figure out why the swingbridge wouldn't swing, figured out why and swung it, re-closed a recalicitrent gate, and hurried back to Kantara.

Drenched! Sodden!! Soaked!!!

 (Photos taken next day!)

It wasn't raining as we set off the next morning, and there were a lot more boats on the move - most of it hire boats from the Wyverne fleet. But the weather wasn't in their favour; cold to very cold with strong winds, mainly sunny but with outbreaks of ice. We didn't go far. After about six miles we stopped at Giffard Park, Milton Keynes, to have a bite to eat and to do some shopping. When we were ready to move again - we only had about two more miles to do to get to a favourite mooring - the sky loured, the ice descended and the wind it did blow.

We went in for further refreshment. And stayed the night.

Giffard Park turned out to be a much better mooring than we had expected it to be. It was very peaceful, and the towing-path was little used. There was open parkland opposite us, and quiet housing next to us on our side. It was clean and tidy. We've marked it as a favourite on our map.

 (Photos taken the next day!)

Favourite boat name of the day, "Flat Bottom Girl".

Did I tell you about the last time we were on this stretch of canal, and saw a duck flying away with an egg in her beak, angrily (?) pursued by two males? Weird!