Thursday 9 August
We made a relaxed start on another sunny morning. Working down Hemingford Lock, we passed the Festival site, where there were definite signs of activity, and moored on the Town Quay. This is a high and awkward mooring, but perfectly usable if the crew is reasonably athletic. There is supposed to be a water point here, in an old village pump, but as always we couldn’t work out how to make it function.
We also magnificently failed to find the Waitrose in town, but did find a Budgens and did our bits of daily shopping there. Needing water, we went back upstream to the Waits mooring. The Waits is a street alongside a backwater, where EA have made a nice set of visitor moorings. The only downside is that there’s no winding hole at the end, so you have to back out.
We had a bit of a wait in the Waits, whilst a big cruiser filled up, but it was an excuse for a chat and a cup of coffee.
Having watered and backed out, we went downstream to St Ives Lock. There was a touch of hassle here, as a little cruiser was moored on half the lock landing, and there was a small day boat on the other half waiting for the lock. I had to hover Sanity in midstream until the lock was ready, not an easy task just up from the weir and with a cross wind blowing.
Through at last, we went down to the Pike and Eel moorings for the night, passing Pat and Sheila on Fair Fa’ coming the other way. It turned into a bit of a fly swat evening – the boat filled up with a mixture of flying beasties, including a couple of mosquitoes, so the electric tennis racquet was kept busy just before bed.
Friday 10 August
It was yet another seriously sunny morning. We didn’t want to get away too soon, as the main task for today is to pump out at Earith pontoon, and we don’t want to be there before ten. The Pike and Eel moorings are very pleasant, under some trees in little bays, and great fun can be had crumbling a slice of bread into the clear water. Almost immediately, shoals of little fish turn up, nibbling at the crumbs, and at times making the water boil in their feeding frenzy.
We set off at nine, worked down Brownshill Lock and got to Earith just on ten. Here we found two boats had taken over the complete length of pontoon for boat washing purposes. Sheila had a serious challenge to her boat handling skill, having gone onto the marina owned pontoon just downstream whilst one of these boats pulled out and tied alongside the other. She then had to reverse past the breasted up boats, and come back onto the short length of pontoon now free at the upstream end.
We had to juggle about to get the pump out point within reach of the hose, but eventually we did it and got a pump out. We then pulled back and topped up the water tank before winding and heading back upstream.
Back up Brownshill and St Ives locks we went, came through St Ives Bridge and moored on the workers’ boat pontoon. We had a great time meeting a lot of old friends from previous Nationals, and in mid afternoon helped sort the boats into their final echelon array, with the sterns to the pontoons and the bows out in the river at about 45°, each bow held by an anchor or mud weight.
Later in the day, I helped move Fulbourne from the Waits where she’d been since she arrived, onto a meadow side mooring. On the way round to get her, I told Bungle and the others of our bafflement with the Town Quay water point.
“Let’s have a look,” says Bungle. Within a couple of minutes he’d found the stop tap under a water meter cover, and had a good flow of water emerging form the pump.
Moving Fulbourne went remarkably smoothly, considering that Bungle, who was steering, had never so much as started her up before, much less reversed her out into flowing water.
A pleasant evening sitting out on the bows exchanging banter with everyone else doing so was slightly spoilt by a couple of local idiots in an inflatable. These seemed to find it funny to speed past the boats at well over the limit, swinging the boat around to create extra wash and stress the moorings. I got a couple of photos of them, after which they moved off downstream to be idiots somewhere else.
As I said last time, this will be the last of the regular cruising posts whilst we are working at St Ives. I'll take a set of photos of the site as it comes together, and post them as and when I can get a fast internert connection. Regular cruising posts will restart in early September.
This blog is about life on board our narrowboat Sanity Again, cruising the inland waterways of the UK (mainly in the spring, summer and autumn) and living in a marina in the winter. It's the way I choose to write it; if you don't like it, there are many other boating blogs.
Saturday, 11 August 2007
Thursday, 9 August 2007
Pootling about on the Great Ouse
Tuesday 7 August
It was a gloriously sunny morning and by just after eight we were on our way. Before the first lock, St Ives, we saw a small head bobbing along in the water just upstream. It was one of the seals who are occasionally seen around here or below Brownhills.
We worked up St Ives (a large, rather scary lock), Hemingford (smaller and friendlier) and Houghton (newly refurbished this time last year and still looking good). We arrived at the Huntingdon Parkside moorings to find them occupied, but an obliging woman on Serendipity III helped us moor outside her for the purpose of shopping and lunch.
By one o’clock we were all done, and winded and went back down Houghton Lock. We shared down with a largish cruiser, Auntie Janet, being handled very cautiously by a nice gang of twenty-somethings. Seemingly, the boat belonged to the parents of one of them, and was Daddies pride and joy.
We were able to moor on one of the quietest and most secure moorings anywhere. They are on an island (on the Thames it would be an eyot) just below the lock, and are a long length of EA meadow side mooring. Surprisingly, given that it was still lunchtime, they were almost deserted, though they did fill up as the day went on. The only downside was a bit of a pong, an uneasy sort of smell that had us checking that no dead fish were caught under the stern. We concluded that the local farmer must be reduced to feeding his cattle stale silage, because of the movement ban during the foot and mouth outbreak.
Wednesday 8 August
Another sunny morning, and no need to rush off anywhere. We improved the shining hour by Sheila giving me a hair cut, the second with the new clippers. This time we tried a number 4 all over, which looks very practical for the hard work in the sun that will be the WRG camp next week, but it does rather emphasise the extent to which my top hair has thinned down.
Having done this, we ambled down to Hemingford Grey moorings, just half an hour or so below Houghton. We moored on the public moorings that have been done up since last year, since Cathy and Daniel are to join us for lunch, but there was also room on the GOBA moorings just upstream.
In fact moored on these latter was Jacaranda, the boat of Dave and Sandy Jones. Dave is part of the site team for the National, and Sandy is the administrator. Since Sheila will be WRG camp admin again, they will be working closely together. We had a good natter with them, and then went off to explore the village.
Car parking seemed a bit sparse, except for the pub car park, which gave me the good excuse to propose that we have a pub lunch for once. Just as we were looking at this, Cathy rang to arrange the rendezvous. There was just nice time to find a paper shop, go back to the boat and tidy up and return to bag a table with parasol in the pub garden.
I was a bit anxious that the pub was rather upmarket for having a basic sandwich and pint, and indeed it was rather, but they were very welcoming, and although the sandwich bit of the menu was short (choice of three) when they came they were very well made and nicely presented.
Hemingford Grey is a very upmarket kind of place, and The Cock fits that image, both in terms of ambience and style of food, not to mention the prices. £6.50 seems a bit steep for one sandwich in a split ciabatta, even accompanied by ten chips neatly stacked in a sort of log pile, and a salad of mixed leaves. Maybe I’m too accustomed to canalside rather than riverine pubs.
After Cathy and Daniel had gone, we set to and cleaned brass on the roof and starboard side of the boat. It was a nice mooring, with plenty of passers-by to chat to. Our only criticism is that it is very high (it forms part of the flood defence for the village), and a bit of wooden fendering below the concrete capping would make getting on and off them a lot less anxiety provoking. There was a serious risk of the gunwale running under the concrete bar, which would then have scraped the cabin side paint work and signwriting. We managed by fixing our thickest fenders to two of the intermediate bollards, but it was still all a bit tricky.
Tomorrow we go down to St Ives to shop and water, and then on Friday we’ll go on to Earith to pump out, and then return to the National site.
I’ll try and post another blog either tomorrow afternoon or on Saturday sometime. After that we will be working pretty hard all day at the National camp, and it won’t be feasible to maintain the current output. What I will try to do, though, is to take some photos of the site as it changes from an empty flood meadow to a major showground, and post them here as and when I get a moment to do so.
It was a gloriously sunny morning and by just after eight we were on our way. Before the first lock, St Ives, we saw a small head bobbing along in the water just upstream. It was one of the seals who are occasionally seen around here or below Brownhills.
We worked up St Ives (a large, rather scary lock), Hemingford (smaller and friendlier) and Houghton (newly refurbished this time last year and still looking good). We arrived at the Huntingdon Parkside moorings to find them occupied, but an obliging woman on Serendipity III helped us moor outside her for the purpose of shopping and lunch.
By one o’clock we were all done, and winded and went back down Houghton Lock. We shared down with a largish cruiser, Auntie Janet, being handled very cautiously by a nice gang of twenty-somethings. Seemingly, the boat belonged to the parents of one of them, and was Daddies pride and joy.
We were able to moor on one of the quietest and most secure moorings anywhere. They are on an island (on the Thames it would be an eyot) just below the lock, and are a long length of EA meadow side mooring. Surprisingly, given that it was still lunchtime, they were almost deserted, though they did fill up as the day went on. The only downside was a bit of a pong, an uneasy sort of smell that had us checking that no dead fish were caught under the stern. We concluded that the local farmer must be reduced to feeding his cattle stale silage, because of the movement ban during the foot and mouth outbreak.
Wednesday 8 August
Another sunny morning, and no need to rush off anywhere. We improved the shining hour by Sheila giving me a hair cut, the second with the new clippers. This time we tried a number 4 all over, which looks very practical for the hard work in the sun that will be the WRG camp next week, but it does rather emphasise the extent to which my top hair has thinned down.
Having done this, we ambled down to Hemingford Grey moorings, just half an hour or so below Houghton. We moored on the public moorings that have been done up since last year, since Cathy and Daniel are to join us for lunch, but there was also room on the GOBA moorings just upstream.
In fact moored on these latter was Jacaranda, the boat of Dave and Sandy Jones. Dave is part of the site team for the National, and Sandy is the administrator. Since Sheila will be WRG camp admin again, they will be working closely together. We had a good natter with them, and then went off to explore the village.
Car parking seemed a bit sparse, except for the pub car park, which gave me the good excuse to propose that we have a pub lunch for once. Just as we were looking at this, Cathy rang to arrange the rendezvous. There was just nice time to find a paper shop, go back to the boat and tidy up and return to bag a table with parasol in the pub garden.
I was a bit anxious that the pub was rather upmarket for having a basic sandwich and pint, and indeed it was rather, but they were very welcoming, and although the sandwich bit of the menu was short (choice of three) when they came they were very well made and nicely presented.
Hemingford Grey is a very upmarket kind of place, and The Cock fits that image, both in terms of ambience and style of food, not to mention the prices. £6.50 seems a bit steep for one sandwich in a split ciabatta, even accompanied by ten chips neatly stacked in a sort of log pile, and a salad of mixed leaves. Maybe I’m too accustomed to canalside rather than riverine pubs.
After Cathy and Daniel had gone, we set to and cleaned brass on the roof and starboard side of the boat. It was a nice mooring, with plenty of passers-by to chat to. Our only criticism is that it is very high (it forms part of the flood defence for the village), and a bit of wooden fendering below the concrete capping would make getting on and off them a lot less anxiety provoking. There was a serious risk of the gunwale running under the concrete bar, which would then have scraped the cabin side paint work and signwriting. We managed by fixing our thickest fenders to two of the intermediate bollards, but it was still all a bit tricky.
Tomorrow we go down to St Ives to shop and water, and then on Friday we’ll go on to Earith to pump out, and then return to the National site.
I’ll try and post another blog either tomorrow afternoon or on Saturday sometime. After that we will be working pretty hard all day at the National camp, and it won’t be feasible to maintain the current output. What I will try to do, though, is to take some photos of the site as it changes from an empty flood meadow to a major showground, and post them here as and when I get a moment to do so.
Tuesday, 7 August 2007
Up the 100 Foot (not a lazy river)
Sunday 5 August
The church clock in March had been silent overnight (about the only thing that had been) and it restarted at seven o’clock, waking us up in a groggy, sleep deprived state. We got up straight away, breakfasted and after I’d nipped to the Tesco Express for a paper, set off at 7.45.
It was in fact a perfect morning for boating, sunny, just a little wind and the waterway to ourselves for most of the time. After a while we passed an enormous wind farm on Euximor Fen. Many people complain of the appearance of these arrays of giant windmills, but we are quite impressed by them. We deliberately cut the engine a couple of times to hear how much noise they were making in what was now a steady breeze. In each case we were very close to one of the turbines, and there was a distinct whine from the turbine head, and in one case a low thrum as each blade passed the column, but nothing which wasn’t if anything quite soporific.
At 9.20 we arrived at Marmont Priory Lock, and managed to tie on the incredibly short landing stage below the lock. Having booked for 10, we were again rather early, but just settled down in the peace of the fens to make a cup of coffee and read until nearer the time. At 9.50 I went and rang the bell on the bridge over the lock, and a bloke came out and started opening the bottom gates for us. We had a quick chat with Maureen the lockkeeper when she emerged, and were soon on our way once more.
There’s a new water point in Upwell, installed by Charlie Fox of the boatyard in March, and operated by the Well Creek Trust. You have to get the key for it from the 5 Bells pub just over the road, so I waited until they were due to open at 11 and went over. As it was Sunday, they weren’t actually due to open until 12, but I found the landlady inside and she happily gave me the key, in exchange for a £5 deposit.
It was a good water point with plenty of pressure, so we were quickly filled up. I took the key back and donated £1.50 to the Trust, and off we went again.
1.45 saw us arrive at Salter’s Lode. We soon found Paul, the lockie, and discussed our plans with him. Regardless of the booked time of 1400 tomorrow, he said we were free to go out to Denver straight away. We said we wanted to go up the 100 Foot to Earith, thus avoiding the blocked rail bridge at Ely. He was very helpful, explaining the effect of the tide and the still substantial amount of water coming down the river. On balance he recommended going out at 1100 tomorrow morning, and we agreed to do that.
It was now a blazing hot day, with the local kids swimming in the river just off the landing stage in front of us. Partly because it was dusty, partly because we could now put the flowers back on the roof, and partly because it would cool the inside of the boat a bit, we washed the roof and the starboard side.
It did indeed stay very warm overnight, and we slept with the Houdini wide open and the stern doors propped a little open to catch what breeze there was. Nonetheless, we didn’t sleep terribly well, from the heat, and from anxiety about tomorrow’s boating.
Monday 6 August
It was at least a cooler morning. We got up in leisurely fashion, and I went and had a further chat with Paul when he appeared. He explained that there is so much water coming down the river, it was possible to open the lock straight through for a chunk of time at low water. At 11, just about 15 minutes before the slack, we could go out and boat slowly up the 100 Foot until the turn of the tide caught up with us, when we would start to speed up as water ran back up the river.
This all sounded very good, especially as it didn’t mean having to lock through with Sanity diagonally in the lock, which is a right pain at Salter’s, because of the walkway across the inside of the bottom gates which will take the paint off the top of the swan neck if it gets caught underneath. My only concern was that the river looked a bit narrow at low water, with a mud bank lurking on the opposite side to catch the bow as I made the turn up river. On the other hand, I knew that Fulbourne at 70 feet must have managed it just the other day, so it should be OK.
Two cruisers turned up at 10.30, looking to go through to Denver. Paul let them out at 10.50, and we followed them, with Daizy V, another narrowboat heading for Earith, right behind us. The turn was indeed quite tight, and I needed all Sanity’s impressive turning ability to get her round before the bow reached the other side. With the tide still running out, the bow stops as soon as you’ve got it pointing upstream, and that helps, rather like turning the boat in a canal with the bow resting on the opposite coping. Revving the engine to about 1500, she came round into the flow, and we started the plod upriver.
It felt very strange ignoring the open lock gates of Denver Sluice and instead heading into the mouth of the 100 Foot, but on we went, running at about 1200 rpm until the tide turned. This it did for us after about half an hour, and we started to make better progress. Sheila was steering at first, and when I relieved her to get her lunch, I increased to 1400, and we started to pull away from Daizy V.
The 100 Foot is 21 miles long, and largely straight, being a relief channel to take most of the water coming down the Great Ouse out to sea. It is therefore potentially quite boring, and at first, when the banks are too high to see over, it feels a bit like a long straight bit of motorway. You just stand there, the engine growling steadily under your feet, the tiller quite hard work at these speeds, and measure progress by a bunch of cows standing on the bank, the very occasional bridge, and similar clutched-at straws.
After a while, though, the banks sink down, and you can see into the washes, the flood storage area between the 100 Foot or New Bedford River, and the Old Bedford River that runs parallel to it about half a mile away.
Now it is possible to look for birds, at least. There were lots of herons, at one point an immense number of lapwing, and we were delighted finally to see a few egrets, little egrets in fact.
At 1510 we passed under Earith Bridge into the junction area where the Old Bedford, the New Bedford and the Old West River split up. We kept on upstream, past Earith floating pontoon moorings and so to Brownshill Staunch where you leave the tidal section. There were immense numbers of little egrets in this section hanging about on the reed beds on the right bank of the river, away from the houses and activity.
At 1615 we reached the Great Ouse Boating Association (GOBA) moorings at the Pike and Eel pub and marina, managed to squeeze into a space under the trees, and realised we had actually, finally made it onto the Great Ouse, only about five weeks later than originally planned.
The church clock in March had been silent overnight (about the only thing that had been) and it restarted at seven o’clock, waking us up in a groggy, sleep deprived state. We got up straight away, breakfasted and after I’d nipped to the Tesco Express for a paper, set off at 7.45.
It was in fact a perfect morning for boating, sunny, just a little wind and the waterway to ourselves for most of the time. After a while we passed an enormous wind farm on Euximor Fen. Many people complain of the appearance of these arrays of giant windmills, but we are quite impressed by them. We deliberately cut the engine a couple of times to hear how much noise they were making in what was now a steady breeze. In each case we were very close to one of the turbines, and there was a distinct whine from the turbine head, and in one case a low thrum as each blade passed the column, but nothing which wasn’t if anything quite soporific.
At 9.20 we arrived at Marmont Priory Lock, and managed to tie on the incredibly short landing stage below the lock. Having booked for 10, we were again rather early, but just settled down in the peace of the fens to make a cup of coffee and read until nearer the time. At 9.50 I went and rang the bell on the bridge over the lock, and a bloke came out and started opening the bottom gates for us. We had a quick chat with Maureen the lockkeeper when she emerged, and were soon on our way once more.
There’s a new water point in Upwell, installed by Charlie Fox of the boatyard in March, and operated by the Well Creek Trust. You have to get the key for it from the 5 Bells pub just over the road, so I waited until they were due to open at 11 and went over. As it was Sunday, they weren’t actually due to open until 12, but I found the landlady inside and she happily gave me the key, in exchange for a £5 deposit.
It was a good water point with plenty of pressure, so we were quickly filled up. I took the key back and donated £1.50 to the Trust, and off we went again.
1.45 saw us arrive at Salter’s Lode. We soon found Paul, the lockie, and discussed our plans with him. Regardless of the booked time of 1400 tomorrow, he said we were free to go out to Denver straight away. We said we wanted to go up the 100 Foot to Earith, thus avoiding the blocked rail bridge at Ely. He was very helpful, explaining the effect of the tide and the still substantial amount of water coming down the river. On balance he recommended going out at 1100 tomorrow morning, and we agreed to do that.
It was now a blazing hot day, with the local kids swimming in the river just off the landing stage in front of us. Partly because it was dusty, partly because we could now put the flowers back on the roof, and partly because it would cool the inside of the boat a bit, we washed the roof and the starboard side.
It did indeed stay very warm overnight, and we slept with the Houdini wide open and the stern doors propped a little open to catch what breeze there was. Nonetheless, we didn’t sleep terribly well, from the heat, and from anxiety about tomorrow’s boating.
Monday 6 August
It was at least a cooler morning. We got up in leisurely fashion, and I went and had a further chat with Paul when he appeared. He explained that there is so much water coming down the river, it was possible to open the lock straight through for a chunk of time at low water. At 11, just about 15 minutes before the slack, we could go out and boat slowly up the 100 Foot until the turn of the tide caught up with us, when we would start to speed up as water ran back up the river.
This all sounded very good, especially as it didn’t mean having to lock through with Sanity diagonally in the lock, which is a right pain at Salter’s, because of the walkway across the inside of the bottom gates which will take the paint off the top of the swan neck if it gets caught underneath. My only concern was that the river looked a bit narrow at low water, with a mud bank lurking on the opposite side to catch the bow as I made the turn up river. On the other hand, I knew that Fulbourne at 70 feet must have managed it just the other day, so it should be OK.
Two cruisers turned up at 10.30, looking to go through to Denver. Paul let them out at 10.50, and we followed them, with Daizy V, another narrowboat heading for Earith, right behind us. The turn was indeed quite tight, and I needed all Sanity’s impressive turning ability to get her round before the bow reached the other side. With the tide still running out, the bow stops as soon as you’ve got it pointing upstream, and that helps, rather like turning the boat in a canal with the bow resting on the opposite coping. Revving the engine to about 1500, she came round into the flow, and we started the plod upriver.
It felt very strange ignoring the open lock gates of Denver Sluice and instead heading into the mouth of the 100 Foot, but on we went, running at about 1200 rpm until the tide turned. This it did for us after about half an hour, and we started to make better progress. Sheila was steering at first, and when I relieved her to get her lunch, I increased to 1400, and we started to pull away from Daizy V.
The 100 Foot is 21 miles long, and largely straight, being a relief channel to take most of the water coming down the Great Ouse out to sea. It is therefore potentially quite boring, and at first, when the banks are too high to see over, it feels a bit like a long straight bit of motorway. You just stand there, the engine growling steadily under your feet, the tiller quite hard work at these speeds, and measure progress by a bunch of cows standing on the bank, the very occasional bridge, and similar clutched-at straws.
After a while, though, the banks sink down, and you can see into the washes, the flood storage area between the 100 Foot or New Bedford River, and the Old Bedford River that runs parallel to it about half a mile away.
Now it is possible to look for birds, at least. There were lots of herons, at one point an immense number of lapwing, and we were delighted finally to see a few egrets, little egrets in fact.
At 1510 we passed under Earith Bridge into the junction area where the Old Bedford, the New Bedford and the Old West River split up. We kept on upstream, past Earith floating pontoon moorings and so to Brownshill Staunch where you leave the tidal section. There were immense numbers of little egrets in this section hanging about on the reed beds on the right bank of the river, away from the houses and activity.
At 1615 we reached the Great Ouse Boating Association (GOBA) moorings at the Pike and Eel pub and marina, managed to squeeze into a space under the trees, and realised we had actually, finally made it onto the Great Ouse, only about five weeks later than originally planned.
Sunday, 5 August 2007
Into the Middle Level
Friday 3 August
It was a seriously sunny morning, and Graeme and Cathy had to get away early to meet someone in Huntingdon. Fortunately, Daniel had slept well, and so had we all, so it wasn’t too hard to get going first thing.
After the family had gone, we did a further shopping trip in Peterborough, which seems to be one of those places with amazingly hard pavements, or maybe it was just the hot weather.
Back at the boat, we moved onto the service point and pumped out. While we were doing this, the boat which had been using the other half of the service length moved off, and we planned to pull back a bit as soon as we’d pumped out, so as to bring the water filler point within reach of the drinking water hose. Unfortunately, a pair of boats manned by rapscallions appeared, in the shape of Acorn and Festina Lente, and Scooby promptly moored where we needed to be.
Instead of pulling back, we winded Sanity, doing deliberately what we’d done accidentally at Wellingborough. With Sheila on shore holding the bow in, I pushed the stern out into the stream and motored it round so that we were pointing upstream, with bow where the stern had been.
After watering we just pulled back a bit to clear the service length, as there were fishermen on the next length of mooring.
We had lunch and by the time we’d finished, the fishermen had gone. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that we’d left the engine running in order to finish the wash load we’d started whilst watering. In any event, it was now clear to pull out into the river, turn again, and remoor a little further down the embankment, on the end of a line of other boats.
A passing local boater stopped to warn us that the moorings in March were very busy at the moment, so we might like to consider mooring at either Flood’s Ferry or in the Fox Boatyard. We thanked him politely, but were not impressed of his grasp of what we planned to do, so we’ll see what things are like when we get there.
In the earlier shopping trip, I’d gone into a branch of Jessop’s that was having a closing down sale, to see if they had a polarising filter for my camera. Unfortunately, the assistant there wasn’t familiar with my model, although it’s fairly common as I understand it (a Fuji Finepix S6500). Rather than risk buying the wrong thing, I slogged back in this afternoon, taking the camera with me. A different assistant took one look, said “58mm”, and sold me the doings at a 50% discount, thus saving me twenty quid bar a few coppers.
Back at the boat, we collapsed for the remainder of the day, despite the boaters on the bank ahead of us, now including Scooby and Rita, enjoying a merry revel until the late evening.
Saturday 4 August
There was a bit of a change in the weather this morning, cloudy and windy, but still very mild. Having booked Stanground Lock passage for 9.15, we got away from the Embankment at 8.20 and arrived by 8.40, it not being as far as we’d remembered from last year.
We moored on the short landing stage and hung about until 9.10, when I went and found the lockie, filled in the form you have to for passage through the Middle Level, and we were worked through the lock without difficulty. We’d been a bit bothered about the draught at the back of the boat, as officially the depth in the older part of the extended lock is only 27” and we were just over that, but it proved to be fine. This is just as well, as otherwise you have to enter the lock backwards, and wind again on the other side.
The weather got better and better as we went along. We worked down Ashline Lock behind a little cruiser absolutely full of four adults and two kids. They promptly sat on the lower lock landing whilst one of them helped us through, and then insisted on us going off first, even though these little GRP cruisers normally make much better speed through the water than us. In the event, they soon disappeared behind.
Some people are very sniffy about the Middle Level, but we really like it for a couple of days, it’s so different from normal canal or river boating. The channels are mostly wide and straight, with occasional windy and shallow bits, the skies are enormous, and on a fine day like today you just boat on and on down these quiet ribbons of water.
We got to March at 1.45, and had no trouble at all in mooring on the town moorings. I phoned the lockie at Marmont Priory Lock, which we’ll work tomorrow, to let her know we were coming. They like forewarning, as it helps with the constant juggling of water levels that goes on in this system.
The Middle Level, after all, is first and foremost a drainage system for the Fens, and only incidentally provides a connection between the Nene and Great Ouse.
We did a couple of trips to Sainsbury’s, one to shop, and then another to dump recycling, and settled down for a bit of peace and quiet.
It being Saturday, we didn’t get much of this once darkness fell, and there were noises of drunken revelling until the small hours, The bit of mooring we were on felt perfectly secure, however, although the other end of it, next to the road bridge and the steps up to the pub, wouldn’t have been so good.
It was a seriously sunny morning, and Graeme and Cathy had to get away early to meet someone in Huntingdon. Fortunately, Daniel had slept well, and so had we all, so it wasn’t too hard to get going first thing.
After the family had gone, we did a further shopping trip in Peterborough, which seems to be one of those places with amazingly hard pavements, or maybe it was just the hot weather.
Back at the boat, we moved onto the service point and pumped out. While we were doing this, the boat which had been using the other half of the service length moved off, and we planned to pull back a bit as soon as we’d pumped out, so as to bring the water filler point within reach of the drinking water hose. Unfortunately, a pair of boats manned by rapscallions appeared, in the shape of Acorn and Festina Lente, and Scooby promptly moored where we needed to be.
Instead of pulling back, we winded Sanity, doing deliberately what we’d done accidentally at Wellingborough. With Sheila on shore holding the bow in, I pushed the stern out into the stream and motored it round so that we were pointing upstream, with bow where the stern had been.
After watering we just pulled back a bit to clear the service length, as there were fishermen on the next length of mooring.
We had lunch and by the time we’d finished, the fishermen had gone. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that we’d left the engine running in order to finish the wash load we’d started whilst watering. In any event, it was now clear to pull out into the river, turn again, and remoor a little further down the embankment, on the end of a line of other boats.
A passing local boater stopped to warn us that the moorings in March were very busy at the moment, so we might like to consider mooring at either Flood’s Ferry or in the Fox Boatyard. We thanked him politely, but were not impressed of his grasp of what we planned to do, so we’ll see what things are like when we get there.
In the earlier shopping trip, I’d gone into a branch of Jessop’s that was having a closing down sale, to see if they had a polarising filter for my camera. Unfortunately, the assistant there wasn’t familiar with my model, although it’s fairly common as I understand it (a Fuji Finepix S6500). Rather than risk buying the wrong thing, I slogged back in this afternoon, taking the camera with me. A different assistant took one look, said “58mm”, and sold me the doings at a 50% discount, thus saving me twenty quid bar a few coppers.
Back at the boat, we collapsed for the remainder of the day, despite the boaters on the bank ahead of us, now including Scooby and Rita, enjoying a merry revel until the late evening.
Saturday 4 August
There was a bit of a change in the weather this morning, cloudy and windy, but still very mild. Having booked Stanground Lock passage for 9.15, we got away from the Embankment at 8.20 and arrived by 8.40, it not being as far as we’d remembered from last year.
We moored on the short landing stage and hung about until 9.10, when I went and found the lockie, filled in the form you have to for passage through the Middle Level, and we were worked through the lock without difficulty. We’d been a bit bothered about the draught at the back of the boat, as officially the depth in the older part of the extended lock is only 27” and we were just over that, but it proved to be fine. This is just as well, as otherwise you have to enter the lock backwards, and wind again on the other side.
The weather got better and better as we went along. We worked down Ashline Lock behind a little cruiser absolutely full of four adults and two kids. They promptly sat on the lower lock landing whilst one of them helped us through, and then insisted on us going off first, even though these little GRP cruisers normally make much better speed through the water than us. In the event, they soon disappeared behind.
Some people are very sniffy about the Middle Level, but we really like it for a couple of days, it’s so different from normal canal or river boating. The channels are mostly wide and straight, with occasional windy and shallow bits, the skies are enormous, and on a fine day like today you just boat on and on down these quiet ribbons of water.
We got to March at 1.45, and had no trouble at all in mooring on the town moorings. I phoned the lockie at Marmont Priory Lock, which we’ll work tomorrow, to let her know we were coming. They like forewarning, as it helps with the constant juggling of water levels that goes on in this system.
The Middle Level, after all, is first and foremost a drainage system for the Fens, and only incidentally provides a connection between the Nene and Great Ouse.
We did a couple of trips to Sainsbury’s, one to shop, and then another to dump recycling, and settled down for a bit of peace and quiet.
It being Saturday, we didn’t get much of this once darkness fell, and there were noises of drunken revelling until the small hours, The bit of mooring we were on felt perfectly secure, however, although the other end of it, next to the road bridge and the steps up to the pub, wouldn’t have been so good.
Friday, 3 August 2007
Peterborough at last.
Monday 30 July
A sunny morning increased our hopes that the worst may be over. Two boats came up the lock, having travelled from Oundle.
With some difficulty and daring I crossed to the other side of the lock cut, braving inquisitive old bullocks and a rickety bridge across the weir stream. There I took some photos of the assembled boats.
We plodded into the village yet again and heard the story of the fire. Apparently setting fire to derelict factories is a bit of a local sport. Various people had been evacuated from their houses because of concerns about asbestos, though a piece in the local paper later in the day denied that there had been any asbestos risk.
When we got back to the moorings, it was to find that the SSA had been cancelled early, and that we could go.
We all decided to stay on for the BBBBQ, especially as it was very sunny indeed, albeit with a chilly wind. We spent a bit of time preparing the boat for moving under conditions of limited headroom. This meant taking almost everything off the roof and storing it in the well deck. Only the pole, plank and boathook were left up there.
During the late afternoon some other boats turned up, and the moorings became very full indeed. We had several barbeques lit by 6.30, and started cooking in earnest at 7. It was a good evening, with the crews of Patricia-May, Festina Lente, Acorn, Carpe Diem and Fulbourne taking part as well as ourselves. A lot of meat was consumed, so we’ll have to go vegetarian tomorrow night to balance things up.
Tuesday 31 July
We got up early, with remarkably little hangover or indigestion from the night before. We set off at around 7.30 with Trev and Chris on Patricia-May to keep company. It was a case of steady locking, with some of the locks quite challenging, with a lot of water coming over the top gates still.
In these, we used a backstrap to stop Sanity from being washed forward into the guillotine as the lock emptied. Quite often, there was no need to raise top paddles – lowering the guillotine was enough to set the lock filling from the water weiring over the gates.
One anxiety all the way down was the footbridge at Islip Lock. This is below the lock, and the river is quite constricted, so a normally trouble free 2.4 metres was reduced to 1.8 yesterday, apparently, right on the limit for Sanity’s air draught. When we got there, it had increased to 1.9, and we got under with a couple of centimetres to spare.
We ate lunch on the way, and arrived at Upper Barnwell and the Oundle Cruising Club at 1.45. It’s a short walk to the town from there, and the mooring is very pleasant. There was, however, a very poor phone signal for both Vodafone and T-mobile.
Nonetheless, I was able to ring the EA and rebook our Salter’s Lode crossing for 6th August. A trip into Oundle found an Oxfam shop as well as the usual shops, and we got three paperbacks to supplement our reading.
At the end of the afternoon, Acorn and Festina Lente turned up. Acorn went into the marina to moor, but on hearing that the gates are locked at 6, Scooby opted to go on to Ashton Lock, where there are good meadow side moorings in the mill stream. Apparently there is a Talbot Hotel in Oundle, and Scooby, whose surname is Talbot, has a tradition of drinking in every such pub he comes across.
Wednesday 1 August
We made another early start at 7.40 on another sunny morning. Patricia-May had gone on yesterday when we stopped, so we were on our own today. There was a lot of water going through Lower Barnwell Lock, but the next one, Ashton, was much easier
Whilst working through it (it’s one of the remaining manual locks, so takes a bit of time) Rita off Festina Lente, and Dave Mack off Fulbourne came over for a chat. Scooby was still sleeping it off, seemingly, having found Old Speckled Hen on draught in the Talbot last night.
There followed a day of steady boating and locking in glorious sun. Some locks were still a bit tricky, whilst others were no problem, though in a lot of cases things were complicated by very short (down to 20 feet) landing stages above the lock, often at right angles to the lock entrance.
At 1450 we arrived at Alwalton after 7 hours hard boating. We were both frankly weary, hence the delay in posting this blog. Alwalton provides a handy mooring on the other side of the lock island, however, and it was very pleasant just to relax in the sun for a bit.
Later on Fulbourne showed up, locked down, and went off down river, only to be seen coming backwards almost immediately. They’d had a change of heart about how far to go tonight. George, their son, was despatched on the bike to get milk and bread from the village if possible. On his return, successful, they decided to join us for the night, so worked up the lock again backwards and moored behind us. A pleasant time was had drinking in the sun before they went off to the local pub for a meal and we had chicken salad on board.
Thursday 2 August
Fulbourne set off early, having booked to enter the Middle Level at 10 am. We worked down the lock at 8.20, again with a lot of water coming over the gate. We boated steadily along this particularly beautiful bit of the Nene, past Ferry Meadows (good moorings on the lake) and Thorpe Meadows (said to be the same, but we’ve never used them). Orton Lock, the last one above Peterborough, was looking quite calm. As we passed the Peterborough Yacht Club moorings, a cruiser set off behind us. They asked if they could go through the lock first, as they wanted to catch the tide at the Dog-in-a-Doublet Lock below Peterborough.
As we arrived to moor on the embankment, Patricia-May was just leaving. We shopped in the big Asda here and had lunch. Last night, Graeme had rung to say that he, Cathy and Daniel could join us for the night tonight. Accordingly, we researched the availability of car parks. There’s a very expensive one by the Key Theatre and Lido, but further downstream I found a free one just beyond the viaduct that takes the A1139 ring road across the river.
A further shopping trip obtained yogurt mix from Lakeland, a knitting pattern for a jumper for Daniel from John Lewis and spectacle lens cleaner from SpecSavers. Back at the boat I cooked a chicken tagine for dinner, and the family arrived just before seven.
Although Daniel was in a grumpy mood (you are allowed to be so at 6 weeks old after a very disruptive day) we had a great evening. One of the glories of grandparenthood is that in these circs you can sit drinking beer and offering helpful advice, knowing that at the end of the day, it’s not your problem.
A sunny morning increased our hopes that the worst may be over. Two boats came up the lock, having travelled from Oundle.
With some difficulty and daring I crossed to the other side of the lock cut, braving inquisitive old bullocks and a rickety bridge across the weir stream. There I took some photos of the assembled boats.
We plodded into the village yet again and heard the story of the fire. Apparently setting fire to derelict factories is a bit of a local sport. Various people had been evacuated from their houses because of concerns about asbestos, though a piece in the local paper later in the day denied that there had been any asbestos risk.
When we got back to the moorings, it was to find that the SSA had been cancelled early, and that we could go.
We all decided to stay on for the BBBBQ, especially as it was very sunny indeed, albeit with a chilly wind. We spent a bit of time preparing the boat for moving under conditions of limited headroom. This meant taking almost everything off the roof and storing it in the well deck. Only the pole, plank and boathook were left up there.
During the late afternoon some other boats turned up, and the moorings became very full indeed. We had several barbeques lit by 6.30, and started cooking in earnest at 7. It was a good evening, with the crews of Patricia-May, Festina Lente, Acorn, Carpe Diem and Fulbourne taking part as well as ourselves. A lot of meat was consumed, so we’ll have to go vegetarian tomorrow night to balance things up.
Tuesday 31 July
We got up early, with remarkably little hangover or indigestion from the night before. We set off at around 7.30 with Trev and Chris on Patricia-May to keep company. It was a case of steady locking, with some of the locks quite challenging, with a lot of water coming over the top gates still.
In these, we used a backstrap to stop Sanity from being washed forward into the guillotine as the lock emptied. Quite often, there was no need to raise top paddles – lowering the guillotine was enough to set the lock filling from the water weiring over the gates.
One anxiety all the way down was the footbridge at Islip Lock. This is below the lock, and the river is quite constricted, so a normally trouble free 2.4 metres was reduced to 1.8 yesterday, apparently, right on the limit for Sanity’s air draught. When we got there, it had increased to 1.9, and we got under with a couple of centimetres to spare.
We ate lunch on the way, and arrived at Upper Barnwell and the Oundle Cruising Club at 1.45. It’s a short walk to the town from there, and the mooring is very pleasant. There was, however, a very poor phone signal for both Vodafone and T-mobile.
Nonetheless, I was able to ring the EA and rebook our Salter’s Lode crossing for 6th August. A trip into Oundle found an Oxfam shop as well as the usual shops, and we got three paperbacks to supplement our reading.
At the end of the afternoon, Acorn and Festina Lente turned up. Acorn went into the marina to moor, but on hearing that the gates are locked at 6, Scooby opted to go on to Ashton Lock, where there are good meadow side moorings in the mill stream. Apparently there is a Talbot Hotel in Oundle, and Scooby, whose surname is Talbot, has a tradition of drinking in every such pub he comes across.
Wednesday 1 August
We made another early start at 7.40 on another sunny morning. Patricia-May had gone on yesterday when we stopped, so we were on our own today. There was a lot of water going through Lower Barnwell Lock, but the next one, Ashton, was much easier
Whilst working through it (it’s one of the remaining manual locks, so takes a bit of time) Rita off Festina Lente, and Dave Mack off Fulbourne came over for a chat. Scooby was still sleeping it off, seemingly, having found Old Speckled Hen on draught in the Talbot last night.
There followed a day of steady boating and locking in glorious sun. Some locks were still a bit tricky, whilst others were no problem, though in a lot of cases things were complicated by very short (down to 20 feet) landing stages above the lock, often at right angles to the lock entrance.
At 1450 we arrived at Alwalton after 7 hours hard boating. We were both frankly weary, hence the delay in posting this blog. Alwalton provides a handy mooring on the other side of the lock island, however, and it was very pleasant just to relax in the sun for a bit.
Later on Fulbourne showed up, locked down, and went off down river, only to be seen coming backwards almost immediately. They’d had a change of heart about how far to go tonight. George, their son, was despatched on the bike to get milk and bread from the village if possible. On his return, successful, they decided to join us for the night, so worked up the lock again backwards and moored behind us. A pleasant time was had drinking in the sun before they went off to the local pub for a meal and we had chicken salad on board.
Thursday 2 August
Fulbourne set off early, having booked to enter the Middle Level at 10 am. We worked down the lock at 8.20, again with a lot of water coming over the gate. We boated steadily along this particularly beautiful bit of the Nene, past Ferry Meadows (good moorings on the lake) and Thorpe Meadows (said to be the same, but we’ve never used them). Orton Lock, the last one above Peterborough, was looking quite calm. As we passed the Peterborough Yacht Club moorings, a cruiser set off behind us. They asked if they could go through the lock first, as they wanted to catch the tide at the Dog-in-a-Doublet Lock below Peterborough.
As we arrived to moor on the embankment, Patricia-May was just leaving. We shopped in the big Asda here and had lunch. Last night, Graeme had rung to say that he, Cathy and Daniel could join us for the night tonight. Accordingly, we researched the availability of car parks. There’s a very expensive one by the Key Theatre and Lido, but further downstream I found a free one just beyond the viaduct that takes the A1139 ring road across the river.
A further shopping trip obtained yogurt mix from Lakeland, a knitting pattern for a jumper for Daniel from John Lewis and spectacle lens cleaner from SpecSavers. Back at the boat I cooked a chicken tagine for dinner, and the family arrived just before seven.
Although Daniel was in a grumpy mood (you are allowed to be so at 6 weeks old after a very disruptive day) we had a great evening. One of the glories of grandparenthood is that in these circs you can sit drinking beer and offering helpful advice, knowing that at the end of the day, it’s not your problem.
Wednesday, 1 August 2007
More tomorrow
Two days hard boating has got us to Alwalton, not far upstream of Peterborough. It's a really slow internet connection here, and I'm pretty knackered. We're going to stay a couple of days in Peterborough, so I'll do a big post tomorrow to catch up.
See you then.
See you then.