For this relief, much thanks

19th & 20th June

We had an excellent meal the night before last at the Pyewipe Inn. Three courses apiece came to just over £50 with drinks, so not bad at all considering the quality of the food.

In addition, the staff were very friendly, and the service in the bar was just as good as we'd have had in the restaurant, which was full of family parties seemingly having a great time.

By mid evening we were back on the boat, enjoying a glass of wine as a digestif. When we came to close up preparatory to heading for bed, an audience comprising the kids from the various families came and sat outside on the flood bank, talking to us through the side hatch. It was a good opportunity to let them see that boaters are friendly, and hopefully not targets for molestation or stone throwing.

The next morning we loafed until half eight, then I steered down to Burton Waters, about two kilometres down the canal. I managed the turn into the entrance OK – they have a pair of flood gates that stay permanently open, at least in summer – but getting onto the service wharf that's just on the left of the entrance was an interesting exercise, especially as the wind was blowing Sanity away from it.

We managed, however, without me resorting to the boater's traditional cry in such circs ("For heaven's sake, woman, jump!"), the last five years having taught me the inutility of its deployment.

We then had a good pump out and filled up with diesel. The guy put if anything rather more in the tank than I usually ask for, but with industrial unrest breaking out in the local refinery, I wasn't going to discourage him. The price was not bad, and they allowed a self declaration for the diesel split, so Burton Waters stays on my list of preferred marinas.

Leaving the wharf involved me reversing off whilst Sheila used the bow line to pull Sanity's head round, and we were soon emerging onto the Fossdyke again. It was a great relief to have the one tank empty and the other full.

An uneventful hour's boating saw us back in Lincoln, where we tied on the wall by the modern sculpture "Empowerment", apparently donated to the city by Alstom at the millennium.

A trip round the shops for top up supplies, and off we went. Stamp End was no worse than usual, and as it was full when we got there, didn't take very long – it's filling it that takes the time.

By the time we got to Washingborough it was nearly lunchtime, so again we stopped there to eat, and afterwards pottered on to Fiskerton Fen for the night.

There's a little bit of traffic about, but so far there's been no problem at all in getting onto the mooring pontoons, indeed we are often the only boat there, or find ourselves sharing with just one other.

Reading other folks' blogs makes us realise just how sensible it is to retreat to the edges of the system like this in high season. I really enjoy cruising these rivers, under the huge fenland skies, with just a few others to share the waterway. The Witham may be quite straight, though not as bad as some others I can think of in the southern fens, but there's a lot of birdlife about, and the steerer can relax at the tiller and ponder the meaning of life whilst doing a steady 4.5 or 5 mph.

Today was another relaxed start, then we pottered down to Bardney Lock, stopped above for water and worked down the lock. Very shortly we were at Bardney Bridge mooring. I walked into the village and got a paper and another pie; steak and kidney this time, though the butcher assured me he still had some poachers pie.

Since then, it's been a lazy day, reading the paper, doing the quizzes, browsing the net. The Independent now has a jumbo general knowledge crossword on a Saturday, which is good fun, We struggled with it a bit this week, but it just means more work chasing up the missing answers on Wikipedia and Google.

All this intellectual exercise is supposed to stave off dementia, so we don't need to worry so much about those two curses of the more mature mind, namely a) losing your memory and b) losing your memory.

We did fit in a walk along the Water Rail Way, a converted railway bed that's now a Sustrans cycle track, Route 1 on the National Cycle Network in fact. It's decorated with odd bits of sculpture here and there, many of them with quotes from Tennyson's The Brook carved on them.

Oh, one more follow up item: Wilson's of Kinver replied to my email about the broken Captain's Chair. They can let me have a replacement part for £65 including delivery, so that's on its way to Graeme and Cathy's at the start of next week.

Must remember to warn them it's coming, I guess.