and so to Torksey

7th July

It was another good evening last night. I did a chicken tagine with cous-cous for dinner, and we sat about and nattered until eleven again.

This morning I walked into the village and shopped at the Mills newsagent and the greengrocers. Despite John's advice last night, I didn't find the Co-op. Apparently you have to go well past the chip shop and the village hall, and on round the corner to get to it.

Back at the moorings, we had a merry time winding Waimaru. The canal looked just about wide enough, but our first attempt ended with her stuck across the cut needing maybe another two foot to get round.

I reckoned that it was just that bit wider further up, so we all hauled on various ropes and moved along a bit, and sure enough, round she went.

The crew of a cruiser tied nearby were a bit mystified, and a bit anxious I think. They didn't seem to appreciate my explanation that I thought that the morning was a bit quiet and that we wanted to do something to liven it up.

Be that as it may, we said our farewells to John and Nev and set off for the routine plod to Torksey. A bit more than half way there, weird noises came from the engine. At first I thought it was something on the prop, and chucked back, but that didn't help.

Investigating under the engine boards showed the bad news; the engine alternator belt had jumped its pulleys and was rattling around. Even as I watched, the rev counter started to slow as the alternator ran down (the tacho is driven electronically from a winding on the alternator), and the warning light and siren came on to say that the start battery was no longer being charged.

I stopped the engine, and we coasted into the side. Sheila got off the bow, having first done what she could with the boat hook to clear away the rampant nettles on the bank, and took the centreline.

I got the engine boards up, and found that the belt had partly delaminated, so that it was no longer taut, and had a bit missing underneath, so it had come off the water pump pulley,which is the highest one it goes round. We had a spare, but that belt is the innermost of the three on the engine, and there was nothing for it but to take them all off.

This task was made more exciting by the fact that the engine was very hot, of course, but eventually it was done, and the new belt persuaded into place. Then there was just the fun of tensioning them all. The new belt was no problem, and the Travelpower belt is an old friend and soon co-operated, but the domestic alternator was its usual awkward self.

Meantime, it started to rain.

The last belt was finally tightened up, and the engine restarted. Sheila scrambled back on board, and took over the helm whilst I sorted tools away, tidied up and got washed. A check under the boards showed everything spinning round just as it should.

I then abandoned Sheila to her fate as it really started to rain, a torrential downpour. She was wearing a waterproof top and shorts, and got inside the back doors and just had to tough it out. On arrival at the Torksey visitor moorings, I took over the helm in the downpour, and Sheila hopped off onto the landing to take the lines.

After making all secure, we retreated below to dry off and (in Sheila's case) change shorts. At least bare skin is easier to dry than trousers, and it's just as well all this happened today, rather than somewhere on the tidal Trent tomorrow.

We're running a washload as I type, so as to give the engine some work to do and to check that all is hunky dory on the engine again.

I've been and spoken to the lockie just to cross check timings. The optimum departure for us is 0850, so we'll be in position waiting to pen down at half eight tomorrow. Newark here we come.