A tail of two fishermen

With a very low water tank to refill, we set off in very good time this morning, just after seven. There was a fisherman just between the water point and the bridge. He's one of the Alrewas regulars, and a solemn looking bloke, but made no complaint when I picked up the centre line as Sanity Again came through the bridge hole and lifted it over his head and kit to start pulling her onto the mooring.

Sheila apologised for disturbing him, but he was fine about it.

It was a different story as Sheila slotted Sanity Again through Tatenhill bridge. For those who don't know this area, this bridge is one of the narrowest on the system, towpathless and a scant seven foot wide. It's a real challenge to get through without touching the sides. She did it perfectly, but a fisherman on the offside just the other side accused her of speeding and threatened to report her.

It would be an achievement to get through there at anything more than a crawl, and the cut hereabouts is so shallow, 3 mph is the best you can expect to do anyway. In point of fact, the Garmin was showing 2.2 mph. Sheila said afterwards, she almost hopes he does ring BW; they deserve a good laugh occasionally.

We made it to Branston by coffee time, and have spent the rest of the day doing our usual pottering about type stuff, taking advantage of a last chance to shop at Morrisons and the like.

Tomorrow, we'll go on down to Shobnall; the toilet tank is nearly full, so we'll get a pump out there and then find a space to tie on the towpath until the workers' moorings are ready for us.

One more blog here, then I'll go over to Shobnall Fields Forever.