A short trip towards Stoke Bruerne, and the ships' salute

The weather was good, the new heater had been installed, the diesel had been polished; the boat was ready, and so were we.

We didn't plan a long journey. There were to be celebratory jubilee functions in the marina over the coming weekend, so we planned to head out towards Stoke Bruerne and see how far we got. We weren't going to hurry; we were out purely for enjoyment, not achievement.

Watford Locks

We spent the first night opposite Welton Hythe Marina.

Then came the seven-lock Buckby Flight, which was a doddle; though it did keep me busy enough to forget to take any photos after the top lock.

We moored for the night just outside Weedon, at a quiet spot where campervans park in a field opposite. Our peace was violently shattered later in the day, however. It was pouring with rain, but we were safe and dry inside, relaxed, playing cards. The sudden loud bang and shaking of the boat was horrifying. I thought the boat in front if us had had a gas explosion; Grace thought we'd been struck by lightning. I ran to open the side doors, where I found a hire boat slowly passing very close to us. There were no other boats around that might have caused him to move over close to us, and the canal is wide at that point. There seemed to be no reason for it apart from carelessness.

The man standing at the bow just looked at me blankly. The skipper was contrite. His declaration that he wasn't inexperienced and that he'd "done this many times" left me wondering if the "this" referred to driving a boat, or to crashing into one. We took down the details of the boat in case we had suffered any harm, and the boat limped on.

We inspected Kantara when the rain had stopped, and found to our relief that there was some paint missing from the side of the bow, but no structural damage. I was tempted to contact the hire company anyway, but I didn't want to make things worse for the hirer, whose holiday had probably just had a cloud gather over it. I let it pass.

We spent the next day at the same spot. The following morning, we turned at the next winding hole, and set off on our return journey, hoping to avoid the chaos of craft headed to the Crick Boat Show. Continuing for another day wold have added two days to our travel, and we'd have missed the jubilee celebrations at the marina on Saturday.

We shared our ascent with Stan and Anne on NB The Earl of Greystock (AKA Tarzan) which speeded our progress and gave us the opportunity to chat with them on the way. The rain threatened all the way up to top lock, below which we moored, waving goodbye to the Tarzan folk. Then it poured!

We spent the next day there, too. It's another favourite mooring of ours. There's an amazing little shop just above the previous lock. It's filled with hundreds of nick-nacks, mostly canal related,  and we bought a painted wooden flower trough for Kantara's roof. It's years since we had flowers up there.

Aware of the possibility of the last stretch of our trip being slowed by numerous boats crawling up to the Crick Boat Show, we set out uncustomarily early the next morning, and arrived at Watford Locks to find no queues. There were two craft on their way down, so, rising the first two locks, Grace moored in the waiting pound, and we had time to eat a leisurely breakfast before moving on.

The only slow going was as we passed Crick, with boats sitting two abreast for several hundreds of yards.

We arrived at the marina shortly afterwards. It had been a thoroughly enjoyable trip. Next time, we'll go further.

There was a lot on over the Platinum Jubilee weekend, but most people won't know about this event. If you do, you're most likely a boater.

"From cruise liners to destroyers, frigates to motor cruisers, narrowboats to ferries, if you've got a horn, then blow it!"

So we did, and the noise was most impressive! Yelvertoft moorers had been informed by Neil, the manager and, on the dot of twelve, we sounded off. Imagine how many craft were involved, right across the UK and her waters - and in foreign waters, too. Did the Queen hear it as well, I wonder.

Three and a half hours later, moorers were gathering in the lounge. A few hardened folk sat outside until the weather turned really antisocial. A fabulous spread of food brought by moorers was laid out on a long table. We all brought our own drink, too, and that was supported by numerous bottles and boxes supplied by management.

It was an excellent opportunity to get to know each other better. Coincidence had it that the group we were in were all close neighbours of ours and of each other, but we still had plenty to talk about, lots of tales to tell. It was gone nine the first time I looked at the clock; we all left just before eleven. Knackered!

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The last leg

A local swan family turned out to see us off from our Wednesday night mooring, the cygnets falling over themselves in their excitement. At least, that's how it looked!

It's an eleven lock/mile trip from there to Buckby Top Lock. We stopped at Weedon for supplies. This couple were begging at the side of the canal.

The journey was slow but beautiful, punctuated by the odd drop of inoffensive rain. Buckby Flight was even slower but, as usual, we were in no hurry.

As usual, we moored below Buckby Top Lock for our last night of the cruise, opposite NB Comfortably Numb.

Moving on the next day, we found Watford Locks empty apart from us and one other boat three locks ahead. We had the assistance of two volunteer lockies all the way up, three of them for the last two locks, so it was a speedy and sociable ascent.

Unlike the ones at Stowe, these swans were totally indifferent to us.

Crick Tunnel was the wettest place we'd been that day, but we'd pretty much dried out by the time we got to Yelvertoft. We'd had a really good trip. Five weeks in one stretch, amounting to more cruising time than we'd had in the whole of last year!

What's the most striking thing about being back? The kettle boils really quickly!!

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.

Buckby flight (cruise retrospective)

Early morning Tweets included reports of snow in the north of the country. We'd escaped that, but did wake up to a hard frost. We were eager to get moving, so we set off straight away up the two remaining Stoke Bruerne Locks. The frost was melting under a bright sun, and we were hopeful of a warmer day, but this was not to be. That first moment was the best of it, and it soon got dull, windy, sometimes raining, sometimes hailing, always cold. Very cold.

We raced through Blisworth Tunnel in a mere 26 minutes, and maintained that pace as much as we were able for the rest of the day. Blisworth, Gayton Junction, Bugbrooke, Heyford, Stowe Hill, Weedon. The countryside is lovely, but it would have been even more so if it had been bathed in sunlight.

There's an ancient church in Weedon, right next to the canal. A good mooring's provided for visitors. We've passed it several times now, and keep saying that we'll pay it a visit "next time", but the desire to keep going won today. It's not a long drive by car from yelvertoft, so we'll visit at a later, warmer date.

photo - www.rootsweb.ancestry.com

[Time shift]
Today, 1st June, Grace and I visited Weedon, and the church. And we're glad we did.

It's worth noting that the mooring by the church is a good one, for several boats. There's a path from it down steps and through the churchyard to the village, where there is a good OneStop shop and a "Post Office"
[End]

I've been collecting a list of the silliest boat names we come across. Today, I added to it. Beneath Moose Drool, Laughing Gravy and The Slowness of Cows, I added Tegg's Nose! This turns out to be the name of a park in Macclesfield, but it's a flipping odd name for a park, too, isn't it?? As Moose Drool is, for a beer? And Laughing Gravy for a film, a restaurant or a band? And The Slowness of Cows for a song? But, hey - I like odd!

After a quick sarnie shortly before the Buckby Flight, we moved on to the bottom gate, quite expecting to be faced with the same problem as we've had here twice before - the water coming over the top gates faster than it can leave the bottom sluices. But no, we got in fine, joined by a boat with two new boaters under instruction from an old tar from Willow Wren Training. They'd been out for a while, and now just wanted to ascend this lock, wind, and return back down it.

At the second lock up, we met another boat on the way down, and enjoyed the fact that each lock after that was empty, in our favour. So we climbed the flight quickly, and moored finally not far below Top Lock.

As I write, the wind is rocking the boat considerably, rain is thrashing on the roof. And it's May the day after tomorrow!

Photos from our windows