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.