Lurking at Anton's Gowt

30th June

We've spent the day lurking here at Anton's Gowt. We took a walk first thing, whilst it was still cool, after we'd both had a broken night, at least partly because of the heat.

Doorengone is still here – apparently she's waiting for a pilot to take her across the North Sea to The Netherlands.

On the walk today we spotted several Reed Warblers singing their little hearts out, to add to the Little Egret we spotted yesterday.

Other bits and pieces:

I've not had a response from Birmingham Midshires to the complaint I sent them yesterday. Obviously I don't expect a complete reply yet, but an acknowledgement would be good. I can't recommend them as an internet bank.

Sheila ordered some crochet cotton three weeks ago, and it hasn't been delivered yet. This is a real pain, as of course once we leave here next week, we won't be near a handy address for a while. Sheila's got an order for port hole doilies she wants to get on with. We've been researching alternative suppliers of Coats Aida cotton, but they are pretty few and far between.

Tomorrow we go on to Tattershall, probably.

Slowly back up river

29th June

Our sleep last night was a bit disturbed by the crew of the boat on the next pontoon, who started having a full volume domestic at half three in the morning, but even that didn't really stop us from getting some quality kip.

After a good trip to Asda, we set off up river for the short run to Anton's Gowt. On arrival, the downstream pontoon was still full, mainly with Doorengone (still), with Canny Annie hanging off the end. The upstream pontoon was empty, though, so we've tied here for the night.

It's very hot again, and we had a brief walk beside one of the Navigable Drains, but to be honest it wasn't very thrilling.

The other events of the day: a stroppy email to Birmingham Midshires about the fact that after three weeks they've still not resurrected my savings account, and we've put together another section of the quiz for the Braidbar Owners' Weekend in September.

We may well stay here tomorrow, as this is a 48 hour mooring, and we are a day ahead of ourselves.

Brief posts for a bit

27th & 28th June

The next few posts will be every day, but quite brief. This is partly because we'll just be poddling up and down the Witham until next weekend, and partly because my right shoulder is giving me problems at the moment, and doing lots of typing seems to make it worse.

Yesterday we did the short run down to Tattershall Bridge, and got a place on the pontoons there without difficulty.

In the afternoon, we were collected by Graeme and Cathy, and went to see round Tattershall Castle, which is strongly recommended as an example of an early and restored castle. We spent the night at their house, so that they could have an evening off at the cinema whilst we baby sat. We collected some post from them - many thanks to Graham Keens for his help with our phone handset.

After lunch today we came back to the boat, and set off down river intending to moor at Anton's Gowt for a change. The pontoons there were full, mainly with Doorengone, the big South African Dutch barge.

We've come on down to Boston, where as always there's loads of room. Hopefully we'll get a space at Anton's Gowt tomorrow.

Up to Fiskerton and down to Kirkstead

25th & 26th June

It was a lazy start yesterday, as we only planned to go to Fiskerton Fen. We had the usual fun at Bardney Lock with its top gates leaking furiously (though we've since found the answer; see below).

At Fiskerton, we found a couple of other boats already there, and indeed there's been rather more traffic on the river in the last couple of days.

A visit to the hide showed that things hadn't changed much on the lake, the only additional bird being a solitary lapwing mooching about. We couldn't stay long in the hide, as a barn swallow had built its nest in the eaves, and was reluctant to come in and feed its young whilst we were there.

Outside, there was a goodly number of LBJs (little brown jobs) but none of them would stay still long enough to be identified.

Back at the pontoon, we were joined by Copper Dragon from Skipton, and its steerer, Big Alf, readily admitted to knowing our friends Roger and Margaret Millin. Indeed, he described taking them to a folk club, so an unusual man in more than one way ;-}}

We'd visited the butcher at Bardney before setting off, so were able to have a chicken leek and sweet corn pie with salad for tea.

These pies are like supermarket pies in the way the wedding vow of an eighteen year old bride standing in front of the altar next to her one true love is like a politician's campaign promise.

(I've been reading Raymond Chandler.)

Today we had another relaxed start on another fine day. Sheila winded Sanity just upstream of the mooring pontoon with little difficulty (though 70' would be trickier), and we pottered back down to Bardney. A friendly boater gave us a hand with the lock, which was much appreciated. It was full, so he opened a gate for us, and then, once Sanity was dropping in the lock, told Sheila that he'd close up for her, thus avoiding the hassle of re-boarding the boat from the high walls below the lock.

It started leaking furiously through the top gates again, whereupon he walked back up to them and flung himself at the balance beam. The gates promptly clicked together and the leak stopped. Another useful lesson learnt.

We'd planned to stop at Southrey, but when we got there, the short pontoon was filled by a narrow boat and a wide boat. Sheila asked the steerer of the narrowboat if we could tie alongside, and he readily agreed.

He described himself as Mad Fred Reed, and for the hour we were there, never stopped talking about his exploits crossing tidal waters in his boat, his legal tussles with BW and the BBC, and the fact that he was disabled by virtue of only having 30% lung capacity.

After giving him a cup of coffee, we frankly couldn't face any more, and decided to go on to Kirkstead Bridge. On the way down, since lunchtime beckoned, we revved up to 1600 rpm for a while, and did 6.3 mph. The engine started to run a tad warm on this, a problem we found on another hot summer on the Great Ouse. It's when the river water is warmed up, it doesn't cool the skin tank quite so well.

Doing the washing up (so as to use some hot water from the calorifier) and easing the throttle back to 1200 allowed things to cool down again.

Here the pontoon was quite busy, but we got in with no trouble: it's filled up since. We've had a walk into Woodhall Spa for shopping, a chat with some folk on a cruiser we met here last time, and are looking forward to a quiet evening.

Tomorrow we'll go on to Tattershall for another rendezvous with the kids.

Back up the river, and a family cruise

23rd & 24th June

We've spent the day with the offspring on board, so I suspect this is going to be a short one, on account of wanting to go and lie down quietly for a bit.

Yesterday we set off after I'd been to the 24 hour Asda for a paper and bread, and had a brilliant run on a scorching hot day. On the way, the river passes close to RAF Coningsby, which hosts both the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight and two squadrons of Typhoons, the Eurofighter. Some of the latter were being taken round for circuits and bumps, at one point crossing over us at around 100 feet. They are pretty noisy, and look really quite large from underneath.

Arriving at Kirkstead Bridge, we sat about in the heat, reading and trying to find the energy to do much else. Some entertainment was provided by a pair of Great Crested Grebe, who went through a perfunctory courtship display, then built a rather sad version of a floating nest. Then they climbed up on it and consummated their relationship with a lot of squeaking.

How touching we thought. Sadly, this morning the nest was in the possession of an extremely stroppy coot, who was pulling it to pieces. It looks as if the Grebe had failed to apply for planning permission...

For the rest, it just got hotter and hotter. I had an extremely cool shower, and a couple of other boats arrived to share the pontoon, in addition to a short visit at lunch time by Ina Maude, last seen on the Trent, and a cruising companion of theirs. They only stopped long enough for a quick pub lunch and were off again.

This morning we had a chat to one of the cruisers who'd stayed the night, a local moorer from Bardney. He told us that many people are lured into buying into the mobile homes at Tattershall on the weekends, when Coningsby isn't flying, on the basis of how quiet and rural it is.

Then at 0800 hours on the first Monday they are there, here come the Typhoons...

Today we were joined by Graeme, Cathy and the grandkids at ten, and set off for a cruise up to Bardney Bridge. This went very well on another brilliant day. On arrival, we ate lunch, including an excellent quiche made by Cathy (what a daughter in law!). The afternoon ambled by, although a fair amount of exercise was to be had keeping Daniel company on his explorations. It's just amazing how much energy a two year old has.

He's a bright kid, too. Last time he was with us, he was standing on the pontoon next to Sanity when a big river cruiser went by.

"Boat" he said, pointing at it. Then he turned and pointed at Sanity: "Proper boat".

That's my boy.

We've got another ten days or so to potter about here, which will be no hardship. Already we've seen a pair of Pochard on the river between Anton's Gowt and Langrick Bridge, by the trig point on the western bank, and Sheila spotted a Barn Owl hunting the same bank near the 45 K marker.

More puzzling was a family of duck near the 38 K mark. Brown in colour, shading from dark brown below to almost black on the back, and with a white base to the beak. On seeing the boat, the ducklings all dived to hide, whilst mum swam off and left them, presumably as a distraction.

We shall have to try for a photo next time we're down there.

Tomorrow we go on to Fiskerton Fen, before winding and heading in easy stages back to Boston.

A family Sunday, then on to Boston

21st & 22nd June

One other bit of wild life news I missed out from last time: on our approach to Burton Waters, we saw a black swan. Now we've seen these before, particularly on the Great Ouse, but this one was hanging around with a full family of mute swans. Normally the mute cob would drive off any other adult swan which started lurking about the family like that, but in this case there was no hassle at all.

Back to yesterday: after a quick paper and milk shopping trip, we ran back down river to Kirkstead Bridge, having agreed to meet Cathy, Graeme and the grandkids there in the afternoon. On some stretches the water was totally calm without any sign of other boats, fishermen or any other description of river user, and this on a fine Sunday in June.

I took the opportunity to do some speed trials, winding the engine up by 100 rpm at a time and observing the effect on our speed. Normally you can't do this because the comparatively narrow and shallow channel of a canal imposes restrictions long before you've reached the boat's design maxima.

Sanity is, if anything, a touch overpropped, with a 19" x 11" Crowther. It means that the engine doesn't work very hard at any time, and on this occasion, 1500 rpm was the effective top speed. We were doing 6 mph over the ground, with very little flow on the river to help, and the prop was just starting to cavitate.

Discussions about prop performance on canal boats often confuse cavitation with ventilation of the prop. The latter is far commoner, usually because the stern isn't ballasted deeply enough, so that air gets drawn down into the flow into the prop, reducing its efficiency.

That certainly wasn't happening here; the stern was digging down far enough that the fenders were starting to drag in the water.

Cavitation is when the water can't get past the swim fast enough to feed the prop. The pressure in front of the prop falls so low that first air starts forming bubbles of gas, then the water itself starts vapourising. There's a distinctive noise and shuddering, and of course the boat doesn't go any faster for faster prop revs. Having demonstrated these facts to my satisfaction I throttled back to around 1300, at which we were making 5 mph and everything felt comfortable.

There was plenty of room at Kirkstead when we got there, and various other boats came and went during the day. We had an interesting chat with a guy involved in the Sleaford Navigation Trust; he advised us not to attempt the Kyme Eau at this time of year, as it has completely weeded over. Apparently the Trust is thinking of buying a weed cutter boat, so that folk can explore the four miles that's currently open in the summer rather than in the window in April and May between the water levels being reasonable and the weed filling the channel.

The kids duly rolled up just after lunch, and we had an excellent family afternoon in the hot weather. The moorings have a shelf of grass about half way up the flood bank that's been mown, and makes a great place for a picnic.

It was a quiet night last night, and this morning we decided to do the whole run down to Boston. We got away early and Sheila mainly steered. This is a really quiet bit of river. Not possibly to everyone's taste, I admit, being pretty straight with high flood banks on each side, but there's a lot of bird life to observe, and as I said last time, it's just very relaxing to chug steadily along.

The mooring in Boston hasn't improved in four years, with very short and high finger moorings, but there's plenty of room, and you just have to tie using the bowline and centreline reversed in spring fashion, so that the bowline stops the bow from riding up onto the grass bank.

The other thing to mention is that, despite what the signs say, the first night is free. After that it's £6.45 per night, so no big encouragement to hang about. There's an Asda within easy reach, just on the other side of the river from the moorings, and the rest of the town isn't far away either.

We've spent the afternoon wandering round, viewing the Maud Foster Windmill and the like. Tomorrow we'll head back to Kirkstead, for a planned boat trip for the family on Wednesday.

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.

Constructive loafing for the beginner

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Thunder, a change of plan and a surprising chair

15th & 16th June

One thing I forgot to mention last time – we saw a Little Owl on our way down river, just below Bardney Lock, or just above Bardney Bridge, whichever you prefer. It was there again today as we came up. Little Owls fly during the day, but this is the first time we've managed to spot one.

On a bright morning yesterday, after a night so hot we kept the Houdini open all through, we walked into Bardney and got some supplies from the Co-op and the butcher, purveyor of prize winning pies.

In point of fact, we got a poacher's pie, which led to the following inevitable dialogue between Sheila and the butcher:

"What's in your poacher's pie?"

"Poachers, madam. Any poachers caught around here, into the pie they go."

As might be supposed, it's a game pie, containing usually venison and whatever other game has come to hand. Well, that's what he told us. In the event, it was delicious with salad that night.

Before setting off, Sheila did some phoning round to see what the best solution would be to our need to get a pump out before the end of the week, the Tankwatch gauge having turned amber. There are BW machines at Lincoln and Torksey, and a commercial pump out available at Burton Waters, back between Lincoln and Saxilby.

We don't have a BW pump out card on board at the moment (lack of forward planning there) so Sheila spoke to the lockie at Boston to see if he could sell us one, and if there was a machine at that end. The answer was no on both counts. The only place on the Fossdyke and Witham navigations you can buy a card is at Torksey. Probably.

After some A-level muttering, we decided to go on to Kirkstead Bridge for last night, then head back to Burton Waters to pump out on Friday. At least this has the consolation that last time we were in there, it was the most potent pump out machine we've ever come across.

You could hear the air whistling into the breather as it sucked the tank dry. Most impressive.

We had a good run down river, and I went below the bridge, winded Sanity with little trouble in mid stream, and then came back up to the pontoon, which we shared with an elderly looking boat with a young woman on board, and with Sailor Vee (ouch), out of Ripon Motor Boat Club.

Much of the rest of the day was spent in the cabin, as an almighty thunderstorm rolled and and exploded around us. I had to dash out to save the bay tree which blew over in the squalls, and my tee shirt was soaked 30 seconds.

I used a bit of the time to do another post on the Building Sanity Again blog, on various odds and sods we've decided we want to explore with Peter.

In the evening, it all calmed down, but then we had a strange incident indoors. I sat down in my chair after dinner to carry on reading Great Expectations on the Sony. I leant back as usual, and the chair began to recline, and carried on going until I was tilted right back in an ultimately reclining position.

It took some doing actually to get out of the thing. When I'd done so, it became clear that a weld had parted underneath, allowing the chair part to pivot back on the remaining weld attaching it to the swivel base.

When you pay £450 for a chair, it would be good if it lasted more than five years, I must say. I've emailed Wilson's of Kinver today; I'll let you know what transpires.

Despite all this, we both slept well, and woke early. A good walk into Woodhall Spa for some bits and pieces was a very pleasant start to the day, and then off we went again, back up river.

We've come back to the new Fiskerton Fen mooring, not far above Bardney Lock. It's really nice here, with easy access to the nature reserve that's been constructed in the pits left from extracting clay for bank protection work. We also heard a cuckoo calling, the second one this year.

Watching from the reserve's hide, we spotted a pair of Little Grebe as well as the usual suspects in the form of mute swans, coot, mallard and moorhen. The river is teeming with fish, and clear enough to see them, so all in all a nature lovers paradise.

The weather has continued extremely fine, though there's more rain forecast for tomorrow. If it holds off, we'll go on to Lincoln, with the plan to overnight there, before heading on to eat at the Pyewipe Inn on Thursday night.

Visits and boating in the sun

13th & 14th June

Yesterday was, as hoped, mainly taken up by a visit from the junior branch of the family, in the shape of Cathy, Graeme, Daniel and Alexander. They turned up mid morning, and stayed with us for lunch and well into the afternoon. It was great to see them all, and both grandkids are clearly thriving.

As you'd expect, Graeme and Cathy spend a lot of time worrying about whether they are getting it right, and all we can do is try to reassure them that they are doing a splendid job. I guess almost all parents go through the same thing – by the time you've got the hang of it, the kids are old enough to tell you where you went wrong, a phenomenon known as adolescence.

The weather continues to be flaming June at its best, which is particularly enjoyable on these waters.

Other stuff about Saxilby:

I think I commented last time on the popularity of the local chippy. During the afternoon, one of Cathy's friends who lives in the village came over with her two offspring of much the same age as Dan and Alex. In her opinion, the chippy isn't in fact that wonderful, it's just the only one between Gainsborough and Lincoln. We didn't sample it, so I pass on the info uncorroborated.

The mooring we chose alongside the picnic area, turns out to be used as an open air pub by the local twenty somethings. Most of the time, this wasn't a problem, but as the drinking, shouting and occasional fighting went on until midnight, it did get a bit tedious.

Half way through the evening, another broad, tall cruiser turned up. It was unusual in that it had a flaming barbeque on its bow deck, and I'm not being antipodean in my use of language here.

They tied in front of us, and at one stage we were concerned that the flames were going to set fire to the willow tree overhanging the mooring, but all seemed to be well. We never actually saw anyone cook on the thing – perhaps they were just using it as a primitive navigation light.

This morning, I popped to the shop to get a paper, and on my return, tidied up the picnic site. It wasn't as bad as might have been feared from the amount of booze consumed during the six hours or so the party was in progress, but it still made sense to clear it up. Scruffy areas tend to get scruffier, whilst tidy ones encourage folk to leave them like that, so it seemed a worthwhile exercise to us.

We then set off on another glorious day to boat through to Lincoln and beyond. The water point in Saxilby was being used by two large wide beams, so we went on and used the services block on the approach to the city. It's just beyond the long length of permanent moorings, and has all services except recycling.

As before, we noted that the best moorings for shopping in Lincoln are on the Witham. If you go through the Glory Hole and under the modern sculpture "Empowerment", there a lot of rings on the wall between there and Stamp End Sluice. Tying here would be far better than trying to use Brayford Pool, which sadly continues to look rather scruffy, run down and frankly unsafe.

Stamp End Lock was its usual awkward self. It has one of the slowest opening guillotine gates on the system at the top, and this time we had the complication that as the lock started to fill, it became apparent that the bottom gates weren't going to close properly as there was a chunk of tree between them.

Giving the gates a shove only succeeded in bringing on the "Bottom gates open" light in the control box, which meant that it wouldn't let us close the guillotine. We had to draw the bottom paddles, and then shove the gates open despite the flow of water coming through from the slightly raised top gate, so that the wood eventually floated free.

Then we could shut them and fill the lock at the snail's pace the automated system allows. By the time we'd got through and closed up again, we'd spent half an hour at the place, amidst a smell of sewage and the large dead fish in the lock.

But that was the only downer in the whole day. We stopped on the pontoon at Washingborough for lunch, then carried on through Bardney Lock to Bardney Bridge pontoon for the night.

It's very peaceful here, despite the traffic over the bridge just downstream of us, and we're looking forward to a quiet night.

From tidal to still waters

11th & 12th June

Not long after I'd finished the last post, Peter and Anne of Agapé turned up and Sheila nipped out and had a long chat (I was cooking chili con carne by that time). As we hoped, they had no problem with us being tied outside them, and seemed genuinely pleased to see us again.

In the course of the evening we had phone chats with both Elanor and Graeme, in the latter case making some tentative arrangements for the next week's family rendezvous (what is the plural of that last word, or is it its own plural, like sheep?)

Whilst all this was going on (meaning I don't recall just when) a pair of swans with 14 cygnets turned up, so Sheila took some photos of them through the side hatch.

Next morning, some of us had a bit of a panic at the sight of the increased flow through Newark dyke. If it's this fast in the canalised section, we wondered, what will it be like in the main river?

We did some shopping and dumped the recycling, or at least as much as there were bins for at Waitrose. Then I walked back up to Town Lock and had a chat with the lockie when he came on at half nine.

He said that we would be fine to go down to Cromwell, and the start of the tidal section, but that we should take further advice there about going on to Torksey. Meantime he would contact Newark Nether Lock and let them know we were coming. This was particularly useful, as the upstream lock landing for Nether is out of sight of the lock itself.

Back to the boat I went, and we set off at once. As we approached the lock, I gave the lockie a call on the VHF, and was told to carry on past the landing and into the basin above the lock. He could only open one gate as there was a load of detritus behind the other.

He also rang Cromwell whilst we were penning through, and said that the advice was to keep going all the way to Torksey in the one day, as there was a lot of "fresh" coming down the river after all the rain in Derbyshire, and the next day (i.e. today) would be trickier.

So on we went, Sheila taking over the helm for the tidal bit. It was the last of the ebb, but there was so much extra water in the river that we had little trouble with depth. This had not been the case for the unfortunate Emilyanne, which we passed about five miles below Cromwell.

It looked as if she had tried to cut the corner on a bend and paid the price, running well aground. Indeed, as we went by, most of her hull was exposed as she sat fair and square on her flat bottom.

We lunched on the way, and got to Torksey at around quarter to two. At Sheila's request, I took over the helm for the turn into Torksey Dyke, and we tied on the pontoons below the lock. I walked up to the lock to find out how long we'd have to wait to get through, it being slack water at the bottom of the ebb, when there's not usually enough water over the cill of the lock to use it.

The lockie said that we could come straight through, so that by the time I'd got back to Sanity and we'd started up again, the lock was almost ready. In we went to the enormous chamber, and with little trouble came up into the oldest canal in the country.

Although I don't suffer from quite as much anxiety as Sheila does about boating on moving water, it was nonetheless a relief to be on a canal again. The lockie said we could stop on the service moorings for the night, so we were able to pull over and tie up straight away. The proper visitor moorings are a good half mile further down, at the end of all the long term stuff.

I broke out a beer and we sat in the sun and relaxed properly for the first time since we saw the red light at Redhill at the beginning of the week.

Today, we made a leisurely start and ambled down to Saxilby, the first place of any note. Being a) Roman built and b) in the fen country, the Fossdyke is very straight, with just the occasional bend to keep the steerer awake.

The weather has been just superb, and we've spent a lot of the day sitting in the sun, reading. The visitor moorings here are excellent, with a park like surround to them including picnic tables and a barbeque.

Just after lunch, Cathy gave us a call, having noted the boat (and my cowboy hat, seemingly) as she drove past on her way to some friends. She stopped by for an hour, so I've finally had a chance to meet Alexander, though he's not got a lot to say for himself yet, except to gesture at his bottle and give contented little eructations as he consumes it.

Takes after his father and grandfather, really.

We're all going to meet up again tomorrow, though we may well just have a family do on the boat, as there will be a lot of pressure on what moorings there are between here and Lincoln on a sunny Saturday in June.

And off again!

9th & 10th June

The evening before last, after we'd had dinner and were trying to relax despite the frustration and uncertainty of not knowing what we were going to do the next day, a Sileby Mill hire boat appeared going down the lock. We went and gave them a hand, and explained about the Trent being closed. We had a good old natter, then retreated back to Sanity.

It was pretty rough night, worrying about how long we were going to be stuck. In the morning, we got up early and paced about rather, then suddenly, at half eight, another boat turned up. When I went to talk to them, they explained that they'd been waiting above the lock, and lo and behold, the light had just turned green.

Off we went again, down the last of the Soar, left turn up the Trent away from the weir, then hard right round into the Cranfleet Cut. We had a good run down the river from Cranfleet to Beeston, touching 7.5 mph at times. The river was certainly still quite high.

There was plenty of space at Nottingham by Sainsbury's, so we had a good old restock. The great thing about this location is that the trolleys don't have locks on the wheels, just a pound in the slot system, so you can wheel it right up to the boat.

I spent the late afternoon doing an engine service – 6800 hours now – just like a fair number of other boating bloggers.

Speaking of blogging and numbers, I've just clocked up 40,000 hits between the website and the two blogs. Not a patch on some others around here, of course, but still satisfying to think of.

The way I had the comments option set on this blog seems to give problems on occasions; there's been times I couldn't comment on my own blog. It was set to give an embedded dialogue box on the post's webpage, but I've changed it to a standalone comment entry page, which seems to work better.

We had a much better night's sleep last night. After a another visit to Sainsbury's, we set off for the big river. Meadow Lane Lock is under refurbishment at the moment, and a sign at Beeston had said that it would be available for use between 10 and 11.

We got there at nine, and with difficulty found a mooring outside a work barge and settled down to wait. Shortly after making coffee, two boats worked up the lock. Huh?

Seemingly, the lock is available all the time, it's just the towpath that's out of bounds. By this time Eventide had arrived, so we worked down together and set off for Holme Lock.

We had to hang around there a bit, as there was a trip boat due to come down, and the lockie wanted to put them through at the front. Finally they turned up, and we all penned down and charged out onto the huge width of the Trent.

Although full, it wasn't in fact flowing particularly quickly, so it made for very pleasant boating. We lunched on the move, and apart from a run in with another trip boat, Sonning, reached Newark quite uneventfully.

(Note to the skipper of Sonning: before turning across the river under the bows of the boat coming downstream at you, it's really helpful if you give a sound signal, or even try calling him on the radio. He might not know that you usually turn around just at that point. Aargh!!)

Newark was quite busy at three o'clock, with no space left on the pontoon by the BW offices. We'd just resigned ourselves to mooring on the wall on the other side, and (though I say it myself) I'd done a neat reverse ferry glide over there, when we realised that one of the boats on the pontoon was our old friend Agapé, last seen at Thurmaston.

So I tried another ferry glide across to them, but it really doesn't work going downstream. Never mind, we got there and tied outside them. They are not on the boat at the moment, so we're sitting here with our ears cocked, ready to check that they don't mind us being here.

Frustration

7th & 8th June

It's been a frustrating couple of days. Yesterday, it just rained. A lot. There was no question of even plodding to Sutton Bonington for a paper, I'm not that desperate to read the Independent on Sunday.

We spent the whole day inside, fiddling about with stuff like odd IT jobs, and I baked some bread for lunch. Even that didn't go as well as it usually does, coming out underdone and heavy. I have less success with the Wright's bread kits than others, not sure why.

Occasionally I strolled down to the lock to check the level gauge below. It slowly worked its way up the yellow, getting about half way up by the end of the day. There was also an overspill weir just ahead of us in the moorings, and we watched the level mount steadily on that.

I've no doubt we could have gone on if we felt brave enough, but given the conditions, why should we?

Late in the day, a couple of big Dutch barges came up the lock. Each in turn stopped on the lock landing, pondered the bridge between us and them, and then set off towards it, only to backwater frantically when it became all too apparent that the wheelhouse wasn't going to make it under.

Then they hovered in mid stream whilst the woodwork was removed.

Overnight, the levels went down a lot, and the weather improved immensely, so we set off to go at least as far as Kegworth to get fresh bread. It was a great run down the river, in reasonable weather, with bursts of sun between the clouds.

We went down Kegworth Deep Lock, and round to Kegworth Shallow, which is normally chained open. On this occasion, it wasn't, though there was only an inch difference in the levels. We tied below the lock, and I did the ten minute walk up into the village.

It has a Co-op and a newsagent, together with a butcher and a small Boots. I just got the basics, as we plan to be in Nottingham, alongside Sainsbury's, within two days. (Joke coming up).

Since it was still very pleasant, we decided to carry on to Sawley for the night, so that Sheila could run the washing machine, and we'd top up the water tank after. We had a good run to Ratcliffe Lock, and went past the site of the IWA National on August Bank Holiday.

Redhill Flood Lock was also in use, with again a very small change in level. The only thing was, the red light was on below the lock, meaning that the Trent was closed.

I called BW Newark (via the Customer Services number) and the woman on the other end could only confirm that the river had gone into flood last night. She declined to offer any further advice, or to speculate how long it might be closed.

"It all depends on whether we have any more rain."

So we've tied below the lock to wait and see, at least for 24 hours. If there's no change, we'll go back to Kegworth for more supplies. The only problem is, there's no way of telling at Kegworth what the state of the Trent is. They've not posted a stoppage for the Upper Trent (thanks, BW) so presumably, they won't post one when the river reopens.

Meantime, we've heard a cuckoo calling here, and seen two cormorants fishing right by the boat, so it's not all loss.

It's just... frustrating.

Lurking at Zouch

4th & 5th June

We're on a very rickety connection here at Zouch (wandering from 3G to GPRS, sometimes mega fast, sometimes freezing out) so I'm going to keep this quite short.

We had a second very peaceful night at Barrow, despite the occasional noise of incoming airliners to East Mids airport, followed by a splendid run down to Loughborough, and an even better one to Zouch.

With a bit of reversing, I managed the left turn to go into the wharf at Loughborough, which has indeed been substantially redeveloped since we were last there, being now dominated by a PFI student block, but it's still worth it for the close approach to Sainsbury's. It's ironic that the development has actually made the moorings less secure, since they used to be behind a locked gate with a BW padlock, but we considered them to be so much better looking that it was worth it. We wouldn't want to stop there overnight anyway.

The cut through the town, or rather round to the east of it, is not so pretty, being a bit scruffy. I said it reminded me of Nuneaton, but Sheila thought that was too severe. Manoeuvring in the basin is a bit tricky, especially when most of the short pontoons are full, but we managed to get into one without too much hassle.

After shopping, we had a cup of coffee whilst waiting for another boat to finish on the new service block, then I took Sanity over there. Again, this was a bit trickier than it should have been, with the boat declining to behave as I expected her to. I suspect that the basin is quite shallow, so that when trying to swing the boat round, she just doesn't want to play.

That done, we set off again, and were joined in the next lock by a Rose narrowboat with Dutch hirers. They were a bit desperate to find a water point, many of the old ones having disappeared. In the end, I signalled to them to take advantage of one of the ones on the long term moorings before Bishop Meadow Lock, which they did.

(For future reference, there is in fact a proper one just above the lock.)

Then we had the best bit of boating for the day, down the beautiful river section to Zouch. We found a space on the moorings beyond the Rose and Crown and had lunch.

In the afternoon, I discovered that there were a couple of geocaches nearby, so we set off and found them both without difficulty. The route we chose took us through the village of Sutton Bonington, about 15 to 20 minutes walk away. This place has a general store and a Post Office.

This is handy, as the rain started in earnest last night, and only stopped at lunch time today. Zouch is the last good refuge from the raging waters of the Soar in flood, and after our Nene experience of the other year, we are quite cautious ("tumud" Para Handy would say) about rivers in boisterous mood.

This morning it had come up from well below the green bit of the marker to an inch onto it, about three inches in all, and by this afternoon, it had come up another four or so, to be an inch below the yellow.

If we had been heading back towards the Trent and Mersey, we'd possibly have pushed on, as it's only a half day or so from here to the safety of Shardlow, but since we're planning to go the other way, it makes sense to sit tight and see what transpires.

Knowing the Soar, it will come up a bit further and then start back down, so we'll probably have at least tomorrow here, and either set off again on Monday, or maybe Tuesday. Meanwhile, I went to the village to get a paper this morning, and we've had a pretty lazy day of it

A busy day, and a quiet day

3rd & 4th June

First off, a note to thank John for his comment last time, repeated here for those who didn't see it:

If you do go that way again, you would make the journey through Leicester less of a slog if you were to moor overnight below King's Lock. We did that following local advice and spent a perfectly quiet night with no sign of troublesome population. The problem area apparently starts at St Mary's Mill Lock where at one time it was reported that gangs of youths engaged in "steaming" if folk left both ends of the boat open. I hasten to add that we had no threatening behaviour anywhere on our journey through the city.

I did notice that there was a rural stretch just downstream of Kings, and Agapé had tied just above with no trouble. On the other hand, there was a time when Kings was notorious for cars abandoned in the lock, so these things do vary. In urban areas, we always cruise with the bow doors locked, to avoid the risk of steaming.

Yesterday we had a relaxed start on a much cooler day. We made uneventful progress down the three locks to Sileby Mill, below which is a boatyard. We tied on the tanker barge which is their service wharf, and I found the office open and inhabited by one Sandra Morloy, who readily agreed to provide a pump out and diesel.

The only thing was, she wanted us to wind to put the pump out point against the side of the barge. There's a marked weir stream coming down past the yard, and we had an interesting time getting Sanity around. It was done at last, though Sheila made it clear it was not her favourite boat handling situation.

Sandra then set up the pump out, which goes through a pump on the barge to a pipe in the hard standing alongside. The output from the pump just slots into a piece of plastic downcomer type pipe, and soon after starting up, sewage began gushing merrily back out of the pipe.

"It's blocked" said Sandra, a lightning diagnosis. There followed an interesting period of rodding the open pipe, latterly supervised by Charlie, who eventually managed to persuade it to flow properly. They kept apologising for the delay, but we hadn't had so much entertainment for, oh, at least two days.

After pumping out, we took 120 litres of diesel, and were able to declare our current split of 20/80 with no trouble. I think I'm going to add Sileby Mill to my favourite boatyards page, if only for the sheer entertainment value. (They are really nice and welcoming folk.)

Whilst all this was going on, Steve and Mandy Locke on Shield Maiden came past, and we had a brief shouted conversation with them. We hope to see them later in the year, either at Redhill or the Owners' Weekend.

Off we went again, finding the reverse winding much easier (the answer is to turn clockwise across the weir stream). On our way down to Barrow on Soar, we passed Trundle going the other way, and had an encouraging cry of "Keep blogging!" It is nice to be appreciated, thank you.

The first set of visitor moorings at Barrow were full, but we found good mooring just above the Deep Lock, handy for the walk up to the village, which has a butcher and a Somerfield.

In fact, these moorings are so nice, we've stayed here all day today. We had a really lazy morning after a walk up to the village. We've repacked the life jackets, read the paper, and I've cut Sheila's hair. Oh, and cleaned the boots.

Apart from that, we've just loafed, relaxing in the happy knowledge that the fuel tank is full and the waste tank empty. A wash load has been run, and tomorrow we'll tootle off to Loughborough and Zouch (pronounced "Zotch"). We are trying to lose a bit of time, as we don't want to overnight in Nottingham at the weekend.

Through Leicester in a heatwave

1st & 2nd June

Rising early on the first day of the meteorological summer, we were underway by 8.15, after I'd made a quick trip to the paper shop. We had an excellent chug and steady working down the 12 locks to Kilby Bridge, where we contemplated winding so as to get onto the service point there to do a pump out.

A reconnoitre, however, discovered that the Elsan sluice was round the back of the toilet block, so that it was unlikely that the hose would reach. Also, it was hot. We decided to take it a bit easier, and confined ourselves to looking for a geocache near the lock. Sadly we failed to find it, although the GPS insisted we were in the right place, and previous reports described it as being obvious.

Either we were being more dopey than usual (blame the sun) or it's been muggled. Back at the boat, I rigged the anchor in anticipation of river cruising, and checked out the life jackets, examining the auto inflation devices and removing the cylinders to see that their seals were unbroken. I then inflated them both by mouth, and left them to see if they stay up for 24 hours.

Meantime, Peruvian Skies had tied in front of us, and we had a chat with them about this and that. They told us about a couple on Agapé, mentioning that they'd discovered in the nick of time that the gent was a retired vicar, before using any bad language in front of him. They also told us that they'd been able to get diesel at Debdale Wharf earlier in the day, so it is only closed on Sundays.

Other thing of note from the end of the day: Sheila observed the most Roughty Toughty form of beer chilling so far encountered, when she saw a guy lift a keep net out of the cut with several cans in it. All very well, but what does the cut water do to the outside of the can? Presumably you have to give it a good wash before opening, without warming it up or shaking it about too much. Well, I hope so, anyway.

Yesterday (2nd) we got away to a seriously early start, setting off after a quick breakfast by 6.45. It was soon mega hot, which made for pleasant boating down towards Leicester. All the locks from Kilby down have antivandal locks of the most tedious kind, secured with BW padlocks that have to be shut again before you can take your key out to open another one. This slows the whole locking process down considerably, whilst corroding any confidence you might have had about Leicester as a welcoming city for boaters.

Let me say at once that I worked in Leicester for six years. It is a remarkably multicultural city, with a large Asian community as well as representatives of all the other kinds of humanity. It has very little racial tension, and standards of public behaviour are generally high. Nonetheless, it has this problem, partly perceived but partly based on experience, of being somewhere you don't want to moor overnight.

It's very sad. They've tried to address it by creating a safe haven at Castle Gardens, with some mooring pontoons behind a fence and gate with BW lock, but the fence isn't very high, and the local lads see it as a bit of a challenge to climb over and molest the boats. On our way down, we crossed with a boat who had spent the night there, and who had been disturbed by such behaviour. In the morning, he found that a fishing rod had been stolen from his roof.

Now, I don't hold any brief for anyone who was unwise enough to leave a rod out in such circumstances – you are, after all, in a city centre, and wouldn't leave stuff in open view in the back of a pick up, say, and expect it still to be there in the morning – but it just shows that there is still a problem.

I guess the difference between Castle Gardens and Gas Street in Birmingham is that the latter has a thriving community of boaters living there, creating an atmosphere of security, and a source of local advice about where to moor.

For ourselves, we had no problems just working through. The approach is some of the nicest canal in the country, and the only loss we suffered was when my cheapo baseball cap, as bought in the Lakes, was swept off by an overhanging branch when I didn't duck low enough.

I'd just said "Heads!" to Sheila before it happened, a case of natural irony.

We joined Agapé after Glen Parva, and they stayed with us right through to just before Thurmaston. I managed not to say to him "I hear I've got to watch my language because you're a bloody padre", though he was so laid back and jolly it was a chronic temptation.

We had a problem at Belgrave Lock, when the offside bottom gate wouldn't open. It swung half across and stopped, so Sheila tried closing it and reopening it a few times, but the only result was that it stuck solid, half open and half closed. We were able to leave through the other gate, of course, but it meant that the lock was inoperable, so I gave BW a ring to alert them.

Just above Thurmaston, we turned into the backwater that leads to Raynsway Marina, still looking for diesel and a pump out. At the end, we tied on the service quay, and Sheila went off to seek service. She soon came back, having found a sign saying that they are closed on Tuesday and Wednesday. It would help if they put that on their signs out on the river, rather than letting you make a tricky turn and slog up there to find out.

We worked down the lock and tied outside Agapé on the short bit of visitor mooring.

BW are working on the lock, and have taken down the bridge there, so access to Thurmaston is currently a bit of a trek down one side of the river, across a bridge and up the other side. Nonetheless, I made it, and then the slog (in scorching heat) to the Asda across the main road. On return to Sanity, two pints of squash were consumed in short order, before quietly subsiding for the rest of the day.

We've managed to get fuelled and pumped out today, at Sileby Mill, but that's another good story I'll tell you tomorrow.

To Thurmaston, and too hot!

It's very very hot and we're very very tired: we set off from Kilby Bridge at 6.45 this morning, and arrived here at Thurmaston just after 2.30.

I'll do a catch up post tomorrow: meantime, I need to rehydrate!

See you all tomorrow

Bruce