Doing the Black Bottom

Sunday 29 April

The short run from Weston to Stone was finished by 11.30, and we tied on the visitor moorings at the foot of the lock flight. A quick trip to Morrisons got a paper and some bits and bobs for lunch. During the afternoon, Braidbar number 51, Cedar, turned up with Vic and Margaret on board. We had a good natter, and then set off ourselves to work up the two locks to the pound outside the boatyard.

There were what seemed to be a lot of boats waiting around outside the three docks that the yard has, and this exposed the downside of the generally laid back approach of your average canal yard. We'd booked our docking some months before, and Sheila had rung last week to confirm and check that it was all right to have mail sent to us there, but we had nothing in writing, nor even an email to cross check that we had the right week or that they were expecting us.

There being nothing we could do about it, we went to bed.

Monday 30 April

We were up and about by 7.45, as last time we went into the dock between 8 and 8.30. This time, nothing at all happened before 8.45, so we just hung about, treating our anxiety as best we could. When there were signs of life, I went into the yard to say we were there and ready, and got told, "Sure, fine - don't rush us, it's Monday morning".

By 9.15, one of the other boats had been moved into the other dry dock, and it was our turn to replace the boat which was waiting to come out of the small dock. This dock is one of the original features of the canal, Stone having been the headquarters of the Trent and Mersey Canal Company, and it's a Grade II listed building.

The top couple of the four stop planks holding the water out of the dock were removed, and the water poured into the dock. Soon, the other two planks could be taken out, the walkway across the front of the dock taken away, and the boat drifted out to be manoeuvred out of the way. I reversed Sanity across the cut, and gently inserted her stern into the mouth of the dock. Then the engine was switched off, and we worked her slowly in until she suddenly stopped.

There wasn't enough depth of water under her to float the lowest point of the hull, the skeg, over the bostocks. (These are the little walls with wooden beams on top that the boat rests on when the dock is empty of water.) I had to go to the bow, to join Sheila and Charlie, one of the workers. This lifted the back just enough to get her over the bostock, and we drifted back again.

Eventually, she was right in the dock, and I was able to go back to the stern, and, gripping the roof beams, work her round so the she was lying square in the dock. Then the stop planks were put back in, and the chain winch that opens a trap in the bottom of the dock was worked to start the water draining out. It goes round the side of the lock immediately by the dock, and into the canal lower down.

Sanity slowly settled as the water level fell, until she was resting safely on the bostocks.

By 9.30, we were ready to start work. The first job was to rig the pressure washer and clean off all the weed and loose blacking. This took most of the morning, but is quite enjoyable, bringing the hull into view, and removing a fine crop of fresh water mussels from various nooks and crannies.

Steel boats like Sanity have to have sacrificial anodes attached to the hull. These stop minor impurities in the steel from forming little electrolytic cells which would tunnel through the steel. Instead, the anodes form part of the cell, and slowly dissolve. We'd taken the precaution of getting some replacements from Braidbar in the winter, but an inspection of the existing ones showed that there was enough left of them to do another couple of years.

Whilst I was washing away, and Sheila had popped out to get a paper, I heard a cheerful cry from the lock outside. I looked up, and there, of all people, were Luisa and Iain Bryceland on their semi-converted Josher, Badger. They were taking a weekend off to take her to Great Haywood, on her way to Braunston for a rally later in the summer. There was just time for a quick chat as they worked down, then it was back to washing the boat.

This was all done by lunch, and I used the afternoon to get an overdue haircut - 5 quid for a 6 on top and 4 down the sides that will a) not attract the Comastic blacking tomorrow, and b) see me through the start of the summer. After the excitement of the day, it was a meal from the freezer and an early night.

Tuesday 1 May

May Day found us slapping Comastic onto the hull to the sound of church bells ringing in the town. Comastic is very good blacking, going on thickly, and it can be applied directly to the steel, but it has two drawbacks. The first is that it is very nasty stuff, health and safety wise. Its xylene solvent base is one of the more potent carcinogens, requiring careful covering up, latex gloves and so on. Also, its very thickness makes it tiring to apply, and sixty feet is a long way under these circs.

The other theme for the next couple of days was the anxiety, typically, "have we got enough Comastic?" Last time we bought three tins and used two and a little bit. This time, we got through a tin and a half on the first day, perhaps because the hull was a bit rougher and so took up more. The stuff costs £40 a tin, so you don't buy lots extra just in case.

We'd finished by 11, and I was able to start repainting the coloured bands that form part of the stern decoration.

Wednesday 2 May

Today was largely a repeat of yesterday, with the addition that we were very stiff getting started. The Comastic supply just made it, so at least we won't have a spare tin to lug round for the next two years. I finished painting in the other colours - just the band of Black Sheen that goes right round the above the top rubbing strake to do tomorrow.

Thursday 3 May

Today Sheila was able to concentrate on finishing the crochet she's doing for the show boat, Braidbar no 100, while I did the final painting. This involved the application of large amounts of masking tape along the hull above where I was going to paint, and then using a mini roller to do the deed, which is again quite fun. I particularly enjoy pulling off the tape afterwards and admiring the neat line thus exposed.

By now we were feeling very well exercised indeed, and had promised ourselves a take away meal. Up until now, we'd been eating previously prepared and frozen stuff, but a complete night off felt like a good idea. First of all we sat out in the sun on the bit of grass outside the dock and had a beer. Then I set off to find a carry out. There proved to be a number all clustered together, and I chose one called Eastern Delight. This was a fusion type fast food shop, offering balti curries, burgers, kebabs, pizzas and fried chicken. For example, those in need of serious carbs could have a (large) naan bread filled with chips, with curry sauce on top.

I ordered what I thought would be a rather more modest meal - a tandoori mixed grill, a king prawn balti and a couple of pullao rice, one mushroom and one garlic. It took a little time to prepare, and the guy then produced a large cardboard box, full of boxes and tubs, and presented me with 1.5 litres of Coke as a lagniappe. He insisted this was all for me.

I staggered back to the boat where we unpacked this feast. There were, in addition to what I expected, three poppadoms, a huge naan, three tubs containing chutney, raita and chopped onion, a big box of salad and a big container of veg curry to go with the tandoori meat.

We tried, we really tried to eat it all, and by the end, you could indeed see bits of the table and the two stools on which we'd set it out, but it was no good, we had to give up. Keeping the remains of the poppadoms to nibble later, and the rest of the salad for lunch sarnies tomorrow, we sadly and slowly packed the rest into the cardboard box and I took it to the skip, waddling slightly. If you buy a carry out in Stone, make sure you're seriously hungry.

Friday 4 May

At last, the day we can leave the dock. Once again we were ready in good time, but not a lot happened for quite a while. We were a bit worried, as there seemed to be less water in the canal outside the dock than at the beginning of the week.

Eventually, by 10 o'clock, the stop planks were taken out and Sanity stirred and began to float again. It's a strange sensation walking around in the boat when she's on the dock, as you keep expecting her to move and she doesn't. Now she was alive again, but stuck on the first bostock very quickly. One of the yard guys had been sent up to the lock above to run some water down, so we waited for a bit, and then all foregathered on the bow. By the finish we had Sheila, myself, two boatyard people, the steerer from the boat waiting to come in, and a guy who'd looked in to buy a gas regulator, who was told, "we can help you in a minute, but meanwhile just come and stand here, will you".

Eventually, grudgingly, she slid out, stopping at every one of the four bostocks for a rest. Unfortunately, she also leant on the side wall of the mouth of the dock, scraping off some of the beautiful new blacking. At last we were out, and able to work down the two locks to the visitor mooring we'd left on Sunday. We watered, then boated gently on for most of the day, lunching on the way and finishing below Colwich Lock at Wolseley for the night.