Gremlins bubbling now, then?

(This is getting silly! I'm sorry, but this time five of you got to see the totally-not-even-started post on Thursday. Gremlins abound, and I'm on the warpath!)

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The problem I allude to in the brackets above made me think that perhaps my brain was overheating under my dense mop of hair. Grace concurred, and cut it. It was getting rather too Johnsonesque, anyway. I'm much cooler now - in both senses of the word!

Lots of boats have been coming and going over the past few days. NB Cantrememberthename next to Bob and Jenny on Infinity has gone, though possibly only to a berth at the other end of the marina. NB Achernar arrived back in the marina and went out again within a few days. Several others on the same jetty have gone, too. NB Emma Jane went out for another weekend day-trip, and more than a few other moorers who don't live on their boats have chugged off, possibly for their annual holiday. The marina's looking quite empty now.

The swans are still here, though, making their twice-daily tour, and stopping off at selected boats for the feeds they've come to expect. The cygnets are almost the size of their parents, but they still make the peeping sounds they were using when they were just a few weeks old.

It's good to have neighbours again. John and Sue are back on NB Lindsey Ann, their home, having been locked down with family for months. On the other side of them, Trevor arrived recently to spend several hours digging NB At Last out of the cobwebs, and generally preparing her for their cruising season.

Underneath the layers of spider-web that cover Kantara lurks a substantial coating of grime. It's quite alarming to consider that it has all come down with the wind or the rain. Where does the countryside air get all of its dirt from? I need to give the boat a very good wash - when there's not a gale blowing! Meanwhile, we're gathering together all the tools, paints, varnishes and brushes that we need to do the paint-repair work we're planning to do.

It'll happen before the end of the month. We've just arranged with "the kids" that we're going back to the house to form a family "support bubble" with them for just a few nights. It's Grace's birthday on August 3rd, and a meal is planned. We're really looking forward to it.

Here's a question for those of you who love language. "Now then". What does it mean? How can anything be Now and Then at the same time? The OED tells me how the expression's used, but I already knew that. It doesn't tell me what it means. And words are supposed to mean something, innit?

(Answers on a postcard, please.)

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We're cruising!

At last, we're on the cut again (sings "On the cut again") Sunday invited us to battle against the wind to tie up at the service platform (we won) to top up with diesel for the stove, then to go with the wind out of the marina and head south.

It was chilly, but it was great! There was a good number of boats on the move. Many, perhaps most of them hirers.

We stopped prematurely at Crick Tunnel. We couldn't see the far end of it as we approached the mouth. Remembering the last time this happened - and we carried on regardless to discover that the tunnel was full of smoke through which Grace literally couldn't see the bow from her stern position (and this is "literally" as in "In a literal manner or sense; exactly", not as in the modern "Used for emphasis while not being literally true.") and I had to sit at the front and make sure she didn't crash -  we pulled over and moored. Grace walked down to the tunnel portal and confirmed that the tunnel was indeed full of smoke again. Someone hadn't bothered to extinguish their stove before entering, despite the polite notice asking them to do so.

An hour and a lunch later the smoke had cleared, and we continued without incident. Apart, that is, from the one in which the skipper of an oncoming hire boat, experiencing the horrors of his first ever canal tunnel, crashed heavily into the front of Kantara. No damage was inflicted that can’t be put right with a brushful or two of black Hammerite, but the poor man was very apologetic, and feeling very incompetent. We felt sorry for him. We’re all beginners at some time.

As we descended Watford locks (above), the temperature climbed pleasantly - or was that just me heating up from the effort of locking? - and it was noticeably milder when we moored above Norton Junction in a tight space in front of NB Achernar, friends from the marina who'd set out the previous day. They move slowly!

We awoke to mist over the water, and silent beauty. We’re in no hurry, and we made a leaisurely start at around 10:30, waving goodbye and bon voyage to Phil and Jackie who would be going in the opposite direction from us at Norton Junction, embarking on a fabulous journey of several months (though we did a see them again later a couple of times when their dog, Oscar, was taking them for a walk down the Buckby Locks, on occasion asking the crew of ascending boats to leave the locks open for us. The weather was warm and sunny, and I’d peeled off layers down to my shirt.





At the bottom lock, I met an Australian couple who had just started their very first experience of the UK canals. They’d walked a mile or so along the canal, loving it all the way, then come to their first ever lock. They were fascinated, delighted, mystified, and full of questions. It’s always a pleasure to talk with such folk.

After a brief stop at Weedon for lunch and a quick bit of shopping, we moved on slowly to the lovely mooring spot a half a mile on from Stowe Hill. The solitude was wonderful.

All change!

Months ago now, we got back to Kantara after a spell back in St Albans to find that NBs Cream Cracker and Achernar had both absconded to the other side of the marina from us. Some weeks after that, we found that the Arrens (Darren and Karen) on Cream Cracker had moved off her and gone back to their house.

The two berths next to us remained empty for some time, which was great because it gave us more light and a better view from our windows. But then came Lindsey Ann to take Achernar's place, and today The Hodma'dod (Olde Englishe for "snail") closed the remaining gap. In fact, they'd already occupied it for a short time earlier in the year, but disappeared again. They're here now for the winter, and it'll be nice to have some liveaboard neighbours again.  Ed and Jan in Emma Jane on our other side only visit EJ occasionally. Good as it's been to have the space around us, we've felt rather lonely. Awww!

Other changes involve Carol on Jimsonweed moving back onto land, taking Frank and Millie with her. They'll all be missed.

(unlike these two, Carol's camera-shy!)

Having washed Kantara a while back, I tried today to wax her. The 9° air was far too cold to let the wax spread properly, and the final job, though it's bound to be water-protective, doesn't look too brilliant. Come the warmer weather next year (fingers crossed for that), I'll give it all the buffing it needs to restore the gleam it ought to have.

Go to the gate, and turn left!

It's some days now since NB Emma Jane returned to her home berth next to us, looking very smart indeed after her repaint. She arrived while we were away, and we didn't recognize her when we first saw her. The transformation is amazing. Needless to say, Jan and Ed are delighted.



On the other side of Kantara, Cream Cracker and Achernar have both moved across to the opposite side of the pound from us. Was it something we said? I think it might be that they've moved to a pontoon better suited to their length. There's no point in paying for length you're not occupying, after all.

Things have got even more exciting for Said the Maiden recently. This time last year, they played at the Great British Folk Festival, on the Introducing Stage. There, they won an audience poll for best act, which gave them a place on the Main Stage this year. And that's where they were last Friday evening, playing to an enthusiastic audience of some 2,000 people. And look who they shared the lineup with!

And to that audience they announced their first headline UK tour next November, and the launch of their Christmas single, "Past 3 o'clock", written by them.

Then there's the second album they've started to record, engineered and produced by Steve, for release before the tour. And add to that the recording of the album with The Company of Players in January, and their tour, as well... Exciting times for the Maidens!

Their most recent EP 

Several friends and family members have asked us recently what our cruising plans are for next year, and answer has been, "not to have any plans". Basically, we'll go to the gate and turn left, then see what happens. The left turn gives us the most options. We're going to avoid deadlines, schedules, anything time-critical. There are family and friends who'd like to cruise with us for short spells, and we'll be glad to have them on board, as always. Perhaps we'll see them early in the year, before our major cruising starts. But after them, no plans. Just making it up as we go. We're so looking forward to that!

(Yelvertoft Marina this morning)

Spring-cleaning in the rain

That was yesterday morning. The rain started before it was light. Soft rain, big drops, gentle fall that became torrential within a quarter of an hour. This was the rain that Phil and Jackie had deliberately missed when they brought NB Achernar back to the marina on Saturday, having travelled more miles in the previous four days than they usually do in fourteen! (Phil's words)

We were rather concerned that  the weather would be like that when the man from RCR came to do the winter engine check and service in the afternoon. But he arrived over an hour early under blue skies, and it only started raining again as he was packing up to leave. But, job done and RCR paid, he left under a new patch of blue.

We're getting through our "spring-cleaning" list pretty well. Grace has sanded, stained and varnished the interior window-frames, which had suffered over the years from repeated wettings from condensation. I've unblocked the drainholes in the brass frames, hopefully reducing the condensation problem. We run a dehumidifier on a low setting overnight at this time of year, and we wake to a pleasantly dry boat. But still the condensation forms on the windows as the day moves on.

We have a washing line under the cratch cover, but it's only useful in warm weather, particularly when we can have the cover open for a draught to blow through. In autumnal and winter weather, the air out there's too cool and damp. In the past, we've used the shower room for drying washed clothing, and stood the dehumidifier in there to speed the job up. But the shower room's rather small! So we've now put a two-strand line up over our bed, standing the dehumidifier on the floor at the foot of the bed, and this works really well, putting some additional heat into the room, too. The line is very quickly put up and taken down. We don't sleep under it!

Having swept the chimney of the Bubble stove, I've now given the stove itself a good cleaning. I ought to do that every month, to stop it coking up. The diesel fuel burns remarkably cleanly, so the floor of the stove only collects small bits of carbon, and the sides and the flue just get a thin dusting of soot. But that's not something you'd want to accumulate. A neighbour who burns a solid fuel was having to chip the deposits off the inside of his flue with a hammer and chisel the other day!

The same neighbour's just related to me a nasty incident he and his wife experienced out on the cut. I didn't quite grasp the finer detail, but the climax of the moment was him getting hit by the branch of a tree and being knocked backwards off the stern. His wife was in the shower, blissfully unaware! He was, fortunately, unhurt, and was able to wade out of the canal and pursue the boat along the bank until she ran aground. It could have been far nastier!

With Emma Jane still out of her berth, Grace and I've had the pleasure of watching birds in the reeds outside our window. In particular, a pair of wrens, and several reed buntings, who feed off the seedy reed flowers.

The warring geese have moved on, taking their conflict elsewhere, and ducks, swans and moorhens have declined in number, too. I wonder where they've gone, and why. Gulls, however, have increased, and can be very noisy just around dawn. Even noisier are the terns, who squabble with the gulls as a matter of principle, it would seem.

In between bouts of busyness, life aboard NB Kantara is quiet and relaxed. We're going back to see the kids on Wednesday, then driving to Torquay to spend a week with Christine and Mike. We've missed having them with us for the past couple of years. Now we're visiting them in their new home.

I'm putting the finishing touches to a new book, which I hope to publish on Kindle before the end of the month. This one's rather different from "Life with our feet under water", though it's still boat-related. A sequel to my first book is also under production, but I have no deadline for that yet. I have to say that "feet" has proven to be far more successful than I ever imagined it would be. But, success or not, I just simply love writing. Sales, I can't deny, are a great bonus! Watch this space.

It's just started raining again! Torrents!

And it only lasted three minutes!

Just four locks!

The start of the day

Not intentionally competing with Phil and Jackie on NB Achernar, who must hold the record for the shortest canal journey in one day (I believe it was ½ mile and one lock), our journey today was ½ mile and four locks.

Immediately after descending King's Lock, Grace drew Kantara up alongside the Middlewich Chandlery, where we topped up our diesel tank.

King's Lock Bridge

A soppy spaniel entertained us while we waited, with her attempts to find stones near the edge of the canal that she could knock into the water. She loves the sight of the ripples, and the “plop” of the water, her owner told us. She used to do it continuously when the ground there was very stony, but such was her enthusiasm and energy that she caused the edge of the bank to break up, and they had to have the whole length of it concreted. But still the daft creature scratches and scrapes at it, hoping to dislodge something and release it into the canal.

Tank filled, we found ourselves part of a traffic jam, with two boats coming from opposite directions, each wanting to turn the 90° into the junction of the Shropshire Union Canal (The Shroppie to many), while another was trying to turn out of it. It didn't help matters that we'd had to tie Kantara up at the chandlery with her prow sticking out into the middle of the canal, in order to bring her fuel filler close enough to the diesel pump.

Before the jam!

But they sorted themselves out eventually, leaving us the space to drift across to the other side of the canal to moor at the water point, to fill that tank, too.

And it was then that it started raining.

Circumstances dictated that I had to stand by the tap for the duration of the long fill, so my sogginess started then, too. My photography also ended then!

After filling up, we had three more locks to go down in order to moor close to the town centre where the big Tesco is. The rain got heavier with each successive lock, I swear it did, so by the time we'd moored up, we were both sodden. There's a limit to how much water a cagoule – even a fairly expensive one – can keep out. We dried ourselves, donned dry clothes, ate lunch, and watched the rain stop. We were able to do our shopping in the dry.

After which, more rain. We stayed for the night.

Grove Lock to Stoke Hammond (cruise retrospective)

We slept late. Yesterday had been unusually enervating for some reason. But no matter. We're in no hurry. Except for the slight pressure to leave before Jules leaves.

Late yesterday afternoon, two Jules Fuels boats came down Grove Lock and moored outside the pub (see photo above). They travel together, tied together for the main part, and we didn't want them to get ahead of us and slow our progress. So we were glad to set off towards Linslade and Leighton Buzzard.

The weather was cold, bitterly so at times, with a persistent gusty winds and some nasty, albeit briefish downpours of icy rain. I ended up wearing the same layers of clothing as I'd worn when travelling from Debdale to Yelvertoft in the snow of March 2013. Crazy weather!

Shortly after leaving Grove Lock, we moored at Leighton Buzzard Tesco to do a bit of shopping. Later, as we prepared to cast off, the Jules boats arrived, and moored behind us. What a good job we hadn't dillied at Grove Lock. Or dallied, for that matter!

It was raining, windy and chilly, and we were only one hour away from what we'd normally call lunchtime. There's a two-hour limit to the Tesco moorings, so we moved on just a quarter of a mile or so, past the Wyverne Boats yard, and moored again. We decided that it'd be best for us to eat early and spend the rest of the afternoon in uninterrupted travel. Fingers crossed that Jules would be shopping for long enough for us to have lunch!

We arrived at Leighton Lock less than an hour later, to see NB Suchar Daval pulling away from the bottom gates. She hadn't passed us recently, so she must have only just moved from their overnight mooring, probably having already driven their car on the next leapfrog, and cycled back. We waved as we passed them tying up again, below the lock, perhaps for watering.

photo - chalicecruises.blogspot.co.uk

We passed NB Naughty Lass round about here, too, but Robbie was not to be seen. 

Soulbury Three Locks next, where we found no less than four vollies, who saw us down the flight. I stood at the middle lock, and watched with interest as the bottom paddles were raised, and water flooded into the middle pound.

I came down this flight two years ago, with Jess, and we watched frozen with horror as the water rose in the pound until it overflowed the walls and and ran across towards the doors of The Three Locks pub. It was only the combination of Jess dropping the paddles while I fled down to open the top paddles of the bottom lock that averted disaster.

Today, I watched the start of the same flood. But today, there were vollies waiting at the bottom lock, and when the water started to overflow the gates, they calmly opened the paddles, and there was not even the threat of a flood. I suggested to the nearest vollie that it might be a good idea for CRT to put notices up to warn boaters of the danger, and instruct them in how to avoid it. How on earth would a canal newbie, a hirer from nearby Wyverne, perhaps, know?

photo - geograph.org.uk

We pressed on to Stoke Hammond Lock, where we'd now decided we would moor and escape the cold wind and rain. We met NB Achenar moored just above the lock. They've been out cruising for some weeks now, but like to travel slowly, often staying at one mooring for several days. We hooted as we drifted past them, and Phil came out to chat while we waited for a pair of boats to come up the locks. Determined to do just one more lock, we descended, and moored for the night a few hundred yards further down.

It was cold. Silly-wooly-hat cold.

photo - www.sierratradingpost.com