At Crick

We've arrived at Crick, choosing a window ion the weather to do so. Another five Braidbars are due to arrive over the next few days, and we hope to be able to negotiate moorings all together.

The phone signals here are pretty iffy, and we'll be busy for the next week. Under the circs, I'll be tweeting updates rather than posting here, probably. You can read the tweets in the sidebar over there on the right.

Hopefully see lots of folks at the show; do make yourselves known if you read this blog!

Dog to dog blog: exercising Granny and Grandpa

Hi guys, Sally again:

First up, some personal greetings. There was a bloke on a boat the other day, thrashing through a lock, actually recognised me and called my name! Result, 'cos though he looked about a hundred and was having trouble steering the boat, you can never have too much respect. Keep practising, Nev, you'll get the hang of it one day...

Second, Lynx, dude, you not well or sumpin'? Your Mummy says you're too tired to blog,  that ain't good my son. Sounds like you're not getting enough of the old hot chicken, or maybe all this company you're keeping, sexy bitches and that, is wearing you out?

Anyway, hope you're feeling better soon and back on the blog, miss you terribly.

I spent last weekend on my boat without Mummy. Big strain, but seemingly G & G have been putting weight on, and the only answer is for them to have me around to get them out and about. I joined them on Friday night, "Top of Foxton", apparently, though there was no sign of our red bushy tailed friends when I got there, swizz.

Granny took me for a decent hike along the towpath, Saturday am, while Grandpa steered the boat. Eventually, we had to turn back as he couldn't keep up, so Granny got about an hour's walk, all the better for her, say I.

In the afternoon, after Grandpa had been painting the boat with some seriously cool black paint, he took me along another bit of canal we weren't going to use, as far as a little lock. Here we had a bit of a falling out, as this lock had a really neat footbridge over the end, just like the dog walk at agility, and I was keen to go up and over it, but he wouldn't let me.

I think I must have got him too tired, actually, but we made it back, and I demonstrated my agility skills getting through a couple of stiles which were seriously un-dog friendly.

I tried repeating this formula on Sunday, but Granny couldn't hack the full hour, and I had to let her get back on the boat after just 45 minutes. Never mind, in the afternoon, I took Grandpa up Cracks Hill, which was a good hour up and down, in very strong winds. It was great on top, I could stand doing the "noble hound scenting the breeze" posture with my ears out and nose raised, my best profile, I reckon.

Only downside, there was lots of sheep and bunny poo, but I wasn't allowed to eat any of it. All this effort to help the aged humans, and not a bit of a reward, unless you count the big raw hide chew I scoffed on Saturday night.

Sunday dinner time, Mummy turned up, HOORAY!!!, and she and I sat and talked whilst G & G ate their dinner (old humans have to be fed at just the right time or they go very strange.) After they'd eaten, I expected to get mine, but it was not to be, SWIZZ!!! Instead, I got in the car with Mummy and we went home. Cato the cat was still there, having spent the weekend eating and sleeping, no change for him then, and I was able to get a decent night's sleep at last.

That's all for now, loads of licks

Your friend

Sally

A windy trip to Yelvertoft

We've still got Sally with us, but she says she is not inclined to do a blog post for me today as she is busy hunting a thing all round the boat, and anyway, where is Mummy? Those who keep them will know that doll type dogs like Sally can be very uncooperative in these matters.

Mummy, in fact, is hopefully soon to be on her way from Eisey Lock to Yelvertoft to rendezvous with us. Indeed, if it were not for the need to rendezvous with Elanor, we would not be moving the boat at all today, as it is more than somewhat windy. In fact, it is so windy, steering the boat is quite a challenge, and this morning Sheila decides that it will be better if she walks the dog for a while and I steer the boat.

We go on like this for maybe 45 minutes, by which time Sheila is feeling very tired, though Sally is still quite fresh. So they get back on the boat at a handy bridge, and I make Sheila take over the steering, as it is her turn today , and I am more than somewhat fatigued with the exercise of keeping the boat in the middle of the canal.

This takes care of maybe the middle third of the trip, during which time the wind continues to blow with large gusts, and the steering gets more and more interesting as there are now numbers of boats coming the other way, and not all of these boats realise the need to slow down when navigating a narrow and shallow channel past a  boat coming  the other way.

Meanwhile, I am down below with Sally, who is greatly displeased to have had her walk curtailed, and not to be allowed out on the bow to keep an eye on the other boats, dogs on the towpath and any ducks that may be about.

After I make a cup of coffee for Sheila, she asks me to take over the steering again, as she is very weary of it, and so I finish the trip to Yelvertoft, where we have some trouble finding a mooring that is deep enough to get into the side.

In the end, we manage to get in by Bridge 20, though the stern is left sticking out a bit, which is a worry as we are by no means well clear of the bridge and the bend after it, and so we are in some danger of impact from passing boats struggling with the wind, the bend, the bridge and the shallow water.

Since the forecast implies that these conditions will persist for a another couple of days, I think we may well choose to remain here until they improve sufficiently for us to make our final stage into Crick.

[I am presently reading a Damon Runyon omnibus on the Kindle, but do not in any way allow that to affect my writing style.]

Gently on to Welford Junction

Sally is clearly getting the hang of life on board. She was quite distressed when Elanor left last night, standing looking out of the bow doors and whining gently as she watched her walk across the footbridge back to the car park, but settled eventually, and slept through until nearly five this morning.

It was a fine, calm day at first, so Sheila went off with Sally to walk the first section. I gave them a ten minute start, then set off in Sanity Again to catch them up. This proved quite a challenge. In the clear stretches, we were making around 3.2 mph over the ground, but the presence of clumps of boats on the towpath from time to time meant that I had to slow to 2 mph a lot of the time.

In the end, Sheila turned back after an hour; quite soon we met up and the two of them hopped back on at Bridge 50.

There was a fair bit of traffic through Husbands Bosworth Tunnel. I hung back to let one boat out, then passed two more in the tunnel, and a fourth was on the final approach as we emerged. In fact, he came hurtling round the corner towards me, tunnel light blazing, just as I came out, and had to hold back to let me get clear. He said cheerfully "You always meet at the awkward places, don't you?"

I smiled politely and, since it was such a fine day, refrained from observing that these things are less traumatic if you don't come whistling round a blind corner leading to a tunnel.

The wind has been rising steadily, and I suspect that it may be a bit of a bore tomorrow. We tied at eleven or so at Welford Junction.

I used the time before lunch to mask off the starboard gunwale. After eating, I got the paint and rollers out and gave the gunwale a fresh coat of black sheen. This is a really good place to do it, as it's a nice even concrete edge with rings, not too high to stop you reaching the whole top bend down to the rubbing strake.

Sally has had a further walk; we went up to the lock on the Welford Arm, a pleasant stroll, though the stiles at the beginning aren't terribly dog friendly. Sally's agility training stood her in good stead!

Up Foxton...

... is one of those phrases that could mean a variety of things, but in this case only the good ones. After I'd collected my pre-ordered paper and loaf of bread from the shop, Sheila steered along the last of the Arm to the bottom of Foxton.

A volunteer lockie was just working a boat down, but the guy with the booking-in book was at the top of the flight, a good example of Sod's Law. Sheila was hovering in the basin, not in a happy mood. She'd been nicely lined up to come onto the lock landing when the lockie opened the bottom paddles. The resulting gush of water blew her out into the basin again, where the wind took her and made sure that she couldn't get back across.

It would never have happened in the days of Mick and Crystal ;) .

I zoomed up the flight, found the real lockie and he told us to work half way up the flight. By the time I reached the bottom again, Sheila was in the lock, having really struggled to get Sanity Again lined up. Off we went, making steady progress to the half way basin, where the lockie pulled us across into the layby.

A CBC boat came down, and we set off up the top half. There was plenty of room on the visitor moorings, so we were soon settled down for the day. We've been pottering about, ambling up and down the flight just to gongoozle, checking out the top car park for Elanor, and then spending some time nattering and drinking beer with some very pleasant Kiwis (are there any other kind?) off a CBC boat tied in front of us.

In the end, we showed them through Sanity Again, just to say thanks for the beer, and to get our hand in for Crick.

Speaking of which, we started to worry that the usual temporary footbridge wasn't shown on the site plans. They missed this out one year, and it was murder slogging to and fro to the site round by the road bridge. I tweeted about it, and I'm pleased to say that I had a reply from Andrew Denny, aka @grannybuttons, confirming that the bridge will be there.

So there's just the problem of the random allocation of mooring spaces to deal with now...

Back to Foxton

The cunning plan was to pull Sanity Again back onto the services point (we were just round the corner from it) and do a pump out first thing, before the place got busy with Canal Boat Club turn rounds. This would have worked, except that the card reader on the pump out machine wouldn't accept the card I'd bought for this very purpose when we arrived.

So we hung about until the Union Wharf staff rolled up at half eight, when Malcolm started the pump for us and left us to it. This has the advantage, as Acen's crew has already observed in a recent comment, that you can carry on pumping and rinsing until you've got the tank as clean as you want. We ended up with the new gauge reading lower than we've yet seen it, so were well pleased with the final result.

Sanity Again was then winded the easy way. Sheila held the bow line through a ring on the wharf, and I motored the stern round. It helped that it's been pretty calm all day, mind, but it did all go like clockwork. (If you except my belief, I'm told, that Sheila can jump an eight foot gap. It seems I thought she could rejoin the ship a bit earlier than was feasible.)

The continuing warm and calm weather made for a pleasant potter back along the arm. A duvet cover was washed as we went along, and was just about done as we arrived at Foxton. Sheila was ready to swing bridge 4, but when we got there, there were a whole bunch of BW guys admiring it. Sheila's role seemed to be confined to switching the key switch that unlocks the barriers, and swinging the barriers closed. All the rest was done for her.

We've tied just beyond bridge 3, and I popped up to the shop to order a paper and a loaf of bread for the morning.

After lunch, we improved the shining hour by making the starboard side of the boat shiny too, and then took ourselves for a wander up the flight. Ice creams were indulged in at the top, and we've spent the rest of the day loafing on the bow. Tomorrow, we'll go up the flight and tie at the top, where Elanor is going to rendezvous with us.

W're dog sitting for the weekend whilst she does wrgie things at Eisey Lock on the Cotswold canals.

Last day in MH, and a reply from Debdale

The forecast was for rain later in the day, and Market Harborough has a half day on a Wednesday, in so far as any shop shuts for a half day these days.

Accordingly, half eight saw us on our way downhill again (though some would say we've been going downhill for a long time). The main thing we wanted was meat, and we found a butcher with a good range in the centre, not just the usual stuff but a wide variety of sausages and deli type things as well.

Back at the boat, we turned to and did some more cleaning. Sheila washed the bow and stern, and I had a go at the hard to get at bits of the loo. We also found time for some serious nattering with our fellow temporary moorers.

It has indeed rained after lunch, so we're just hoping that the forecast will also be right about tomorrow, when it's supposed to be dry again.

I've had a very courteous reply from Debdale Wharf. It's too long to quote in full here, but this is the nub of it:

As you may have noticed we are currently extending our wetdock workshop area, a new part of the building has very recently been erected and is part of a refurbishment of our canal frontage. When finished new signage will be prominent to passing boats and the access will be better for pump out and diesel.

We are currently upgrading our website as well. 

It was a shame that you were given the advice to proceed across the slipway, I read that your friends had forgotten that you did not need diesel.  As you can imagine leaning out over the cut with a heavy pumpout pipe can be a precarious experience so I do not think that asking you to move the boat in order to make the process safer is too much to ask.  Usually if a boat comes to us for pump out only then the wharf side is fine.  However if a boat needs diesel and a pump out the slip way is the best place to proceed as the hose for the diesel pump is of forecourt length and one can reach the boats pump out point, using our extremely long pump out hose, on either side of the boat.

With regard to our man, again I am sorry that whatever he said to you made you feel unwanted and uncared for. The other customer that he was dealing with at the time you came into the office did, when asked, report that the atmosphere was a little strained.  We cannot go through life expecting to get on with everyone and I know that he did try to engage you in conversation in the office but sometimes one can try too hard and make things worse. 

We always issue receipts to our customers.  I am afraid that this is the process and we do try to make every effort to be efficient. 

In response to your friends experience regarding the hire fleet and diesel, the hire fleet has not been in operation here for over 12 years and our operating practices have changed completely over that time.  To give the impression that that would happen again would be wrong and I would be grateful if you could inform your friend of this.

We do try very hard to make everyone who visits us feel happy and leave feeling as though they have had a good experience with us and it is upsetting to think that we cannot give that to 100% of our customers – I would very much like to meet the business that can! 

I appreciate your feedback about your experience and hope that you will receive better service from us the next time you are in the area. 

So, fair enough. It's unlikely that we'll be down that way again for a while, of course, but at least Mike Goode had the decency to respond as he did.

Tomorrow, we'll pump out first thing, to avoid getting in the way of the Canal Boat Club turn round, and then head back to Foxton.

Busy busy at Market Harborough

We've had a busy day here, taking advantage of our mooring and shoreline. The roof of the boat has been washed again, removing the sticky goo that dripped off a sycamore onto it at Syston, and we've washed the port side of the boat. A load of towels have been laundered, and we took in a large Sainsbury's delivery just before lunch.

This afternoon, we walked down into town to buy more potting compost (Wilko's best), and Sheila potted up the basil, coriander and surfinias. She plans to sew the last container with land cress and rocket seed, to give us some cut and come again salad leaves.

Not much more to say today, so here are some photos of Sanity Again in the basin:

Don't know how much the apartments cost

Services block just out of shot to the left

We're a bit overlooked, but it's not a problem

Into Market Harborough

We set off just a bit before eight today, Sheila steering and your correspondent swinging the bridges. The one at the mouth of the arm now seems to be working well, and the dreaded number 4 is showing the benefit of its refurbishment.

You used to have to scuttle about unlocking BW padlocks so as to be able to close the road gates, but that's all been replaced by a power cabinet; one turn of the key and they are unlocked. In addition, the bridge, which frankly was a swine to swing at times, now pivots quite easily.

Well done, BW.

We made good time, much of the reed beds having been cut back, and by quarter past nine were approaching the town. I rang Union Wharf, and was told by Debbie that three nights in the basin would be no problem, welcome news. The basic cost is £7.50 a night, but for an extra 50p you can have an electric hook up. The folk here are always welcoming, too.

This means that Sheila can catch up with the laundry, we can leave the Hurricane running all the time, and we've booked a Sainsbury's delivery for tomorrow morning.

We'll do a pump out as we leave; it's a BW machine, so we can do a thorough job, especially as the tank won't be much more than half full. This will enable us to get through Crick Show before we need another one.

We had a stroll down into town this afternoon, and acquired some more plants; basil and coriander for fresh herbs, and some surfinias for colour.

We've spent the rest of the day sitting out on the side of the wharf watching the Canal Boat Club hirers getting their instructions and setting off into the wide blue yonder. We're on Hadar's usual mooring by the Wharf Office, which is fun; a firm edge all the length of the boat, so no excuse not to do some boat washing over the next couple of days.

Sunday at Foxton

Foxton's normally very busy on a Sunday, it being a favourite destination for the local gongoozlers, but I guess the showery and windy weather today has put them off a bit. We spent the morning cleaning and stuff. Sheila put in a lot of work in the engine room, with buckets of soapy water and a can of Pledge, and as a result it's looking much cleaner and tidier.

We've stowed the anchor away in the lower bow locker, and I took the opportunity to get out the tools and paint we'll need to repaint the gunwales above the rubbing strake. We won't actually do this until we've climbed up Foxton, though.

We also refilled the water tank and ran a washload. The repaired domestic alternator ran well, another source of relief.

This afternoon, we took a walk along the Harborough Arm, and discovered that, although the Black Horse pub is presently closed for a refurbishment, a village store, Rural Trading,  has opened in what was the skittle alley. We only had time for a brief look in, as they were just closing, but Susan and Charlotte gave us a run down of their services. It looks like a fairly comprehensive stock, but you can email them via their webpage or phone/text 0794 1342794 with your needs and they will order stuff in. This could be really handy if you're boating towarrds Foxton, need supplies and don't want to go into Market Harborough.

They also do newspapers on the same basis. They're now open from 9 to 5 six days a week, and 9.30 to 2.00 on Sundays. Walk up the hill from Bridge 3 to find them.

Less good is the email I've received from Sarah and Steve about the boat Sumat Else we saw being towed on the Trent and Mersey. They've had a hard time:

We were first time boaters and unfortunately the outboard engine cut out when the stop button on the control panel popped out and touched the metal panel. Unable to start the engine again, a friendly couple towed us to the lock at Weston-upon-Trent. Here the canal rescue people took the engine off our boat and advised us that it would go to their specialist to be fixed. We were advised to leave it there until the engine could be fixed back on the boat.

 

A week or so later we had a call from the waterways authority to advise us that our boat was sinking! I drove out with my 3 year old son to check what could be making the boat sink. To my horror when I opened the canopy everything that could be removed and unscrewed from the boat was taken. From the navigation lights to the half used fairy liquid bottle on the sink! Still unsure as to what had made the boat sink, I left the boat in the hands of the canal rescue people once again.

 

After pumping out the water they found that the thief had drilled a hole in the hull of the boat to sink it. They then used a bolt to plug the hole and sealed it. After a few days of the rescue company trying to find a marina that would take 'sumat else', they eventually found one. Sunday was the day that 'sumat else' got towed away, as you saw.

 

We are upset, angry, bewildered and feel desolate. After only a few weeks and only the third time on our boat, the dream being on the canal/river in our boat has been taken away from us. We can't believe that anyone could do this, even our three young children's games were taken.

 

Despite these occasional, despicable characters, everyone that we encountered on our short adventure on the canal, were lovely and friendly.

 

The boat will probably be written off by the insurance company and the police are investigating the theft. At first we were determined not to let them win and put us off from getting back out there on our or another boat, but just recently we are changing our minds and feel it may just not happen again.

 

I just wanted to let you know, and if you want to update your blog it might arouse other boaters in the area of the dangers prowling that area.

I really wouldn't have thought of Weston as a danger area; it just shows that it's not always the obvious bandit territory that you have to worry about.

Tomorrow, we go into Market Harborough; we're planning to spend a few days there before heading onwards and upwards towards Crick.

A tale of two services

After an early bedtime and a solid night's sleep, we had two things we wanted to achieve today. We needed a pump out, and had an arrangement to meet with Sam Matts of Foxton Boat Services sometime in the later part of the morning.

We weren't sure when Debdale Wharf would be opening, so set off around half seven, with about 90 minutes boating to do. We got there at 8.45, tied on the service wharf outside for the time being, and I had a prowl around to see if I could find anybody. There was nobody about, and nothing on the door to Reception to indicate when there might be.

We made a couple of cups of coffee and settled down to wait. Nine o'clock came and went with no action, so I had a look on their website to see if that would tell us when we could expect some. There was nothing there, either, so I called the phone number given, on the off chance. This worked; I got through, and was told that they open from ten till four on a Saturday. Accordingly, we moved the boat into the marina, so that the pump out point would be accessible. Sanity Again ended up bridging a slipway, but we knew (we thought) from John Campbell that that would be OK.

More time went quietly by, and at ten, sure enough the office was open. In I went and explained my need to the guy inside. We had a brief, odd and uncomfortable conversation, slightly at cross purposes, about where the boat was, but he said that he'd be along on a minute. A good few minutes later, he turned up.

"You'll have to pull it back a bit, I'm not working over the water" he said (the pump out point was indeed opposite the slip). We hauled her back, though this meant that the side of the boat ended up bridging a corner, so that the pump out point was still not against the side.

This was all right, seemingly, and the pump out commenced. The rinse out point wasn't accessible, so the rinse out consisted of a bit of water from a hose sloshed down the pump out point. Operation complete, I went up to the office to pay my tenner. A full invoice had to be generated, with boat name, my name and post code. I was complimented on having a famous name, but then upbraided because I know it as the name of one famous mathematician, and several generals. Apparently, I should have only been concerned with my engineering forebears.

We were left feeling despised and unwanted, rather than valued and treated with courtesy, and won't be going back if we can possibly help it.

It was a very different story at Foxton. Sam rang when he was finished with his previous job, came over to where we were moored, and was remarkably patient with the fact that the alternator declined to make the worrying noise (of course). By running some load on the batteries to discharge them, it finally obliged, and Sam diagnosed a dodgy overrun pulley. (If anyone wants to know more about this, do post a comment!)

It took him about an hour all told to take down the alternator, replace the pulley and refit the beast. Naturally, the replacement pulley was a shade different, and the set up had to be realigned, but at last it was all done.

Sam took the relevant details for Beta and went on his way; Beta have accepted the charge under their warranty. This is the second time we've called on Sam's services, and would unhesitatingly recommend him, particularly for anything to do with a Beta Marine engine.

We've spent the rest of the day pottering, dumping rubbish and recycling (all the usual stuff except cardboard), buying me a new mug from the shop, and ambling up and down the flight, gongoozling for once.

Tonight we'll have a drink in the Bridge 61 for old times sake, and make a start on boat cleaning in the morning. It's just two weeks to the Crick Show now, so we need to start getting Sanity Again into show condition.

That'll be 29 locks in two days then...

...and it's Friday the 13th. I don’t normally suffer from Triskaidekaphobia, but today was the kind to make you wonder. It all started well, with us surfacing around six, and getting underway by seven. The alternator was noisy again, so we ran the engine in neutral and at 1000 rpm for a bit whilst Sheila made some bread dough from a kit, so things weren’t too bad by the time we set off. 

Up Double Rail Lock we went, only to discover that the pound above was seriously low, as in around two foot down. Sanity Again struggled to get out of the lock, and Sheila was working hard to find what was left of the deep water. At last she got away, only to have trouble getting through the next bridge hole. I had already abandoned ship, with the aim of walking up to the next lock, Kilby, to run some water down. 

As Sanity Again came through the bridge hole, there were awful grinding noises from underneath, followed by a terrific clunk. Sheila had already dropped into neutral, but thereafter she heard a lot of noise from beneath boat. Eventually, we made it to the lock, only to find Braidbar number 70, Phoebe, coming down it. This was good in one way, as it meant they were running a lockfull of water into the pound, but bad in another as the two boats had to pass in the depleted channel. 

Crewed by John and Margaret, we had time for quite a chat as, snail like, the passage was completed. John is an avid reader of this blog in the winter, he tells me, so it was good to make their acquaintance on two counts. 

As we came out of the lock, two BW guys turned up, They were the ones we’ve been seeing from time to time for the last few days, surveying the state of all the locks on this section. At least it saved us from having to ring BW to report to the dropped pound. Apparently it’s been leaking for some time, but there’s no resources to do anything about tracing it. 

We slogged on working uphill, mostly with me steering and Sheila lock working, as this seemed to suit our physical abilities better. Regular readers of this blog will know that usually we take it day and day about to steer, but Sheila was finding it really hard work swinging on the ropes in the lock to control the boat as the water level rose. 

It’s always a problem with taking a single boat up a broad lock. For most of these, there was a bollard in the right place, more or less, to put the bowline round. Opening the ground paddle on the same side should then mean that the boat was pinned to the wall of the lock, but this doesn’t always work as well as it should. 

Today’s locks came in two main groups, of nine then five, so I gave Peter Mason a call in the pound between. We discussed the two problems, the alternator and the noisy prop. He gave me some advice about diagnosing the latter, and undertook to ring Beta about the former, if I would email him with the symptoms. 

Once we stopped at the top of the flight, just by Bridge 74, we had lunch, eating the buns which I’d baked from Sheila’s dough as we went along, and then I emailed Peter. I was investigating the prop when he called back, as a result of which we’re meeting Sam Matts at Foxton tomorrow. Sam has a spare alternator in stock, so hopefully it will be a straightforward swap.

The prop, meanwhile, turns out to have a right ding on the tip of one of the blades. A piece about the size of the top joint of my thumb has been bent forward. This would happen just after we’ve had her on the dock, of course, but at least it’s nothing worse, like damage to the drive train. We’ll have to find an opportunity to dock her again some time, and see if we can beat out the bend. In the meantime, we’ll just have to put up with a bit of prop sing; at least the fishermen won’t be able to complain they didn’t hear us coming. 

We’ve walked into Fleckney and shopped. The nearest bridge is number 73 in fact, but this mooring is near enough. It’s enabled us to get enough supplies for a few days, until we can get into Market Harborough. 

Finally, when I went to do this post on Blogger, it’s down. So I’m typing this in Pages for the moment, and will put it up when Blogger recovers from the malign effect of the Friday the 13th.

A short blog

Yes, I know, I'm always saying that, but this time I mean it.

I was going to do a catch up with stuff about yesterday, since Sally pinched the space then, but we've spent the latter part of the afternoon with John and Nev on Waimaru, socialising with a couple of bottles, and I need to get a shower before we all go out to the pub.

I'll do a proper catch up tomorrow, hopefully.

Today we went from Barrow to Syston, stopping at Sileby Mill to get a pump out (no, their holding tank was full) and diesel (yes, but pricey).

We've come on to the Hope and Anchor at Syston, and have moored in a very nice spot outside the Water Park

As I say, proper catch up tomorrow, after we've braved the wilds of Leicester.

[Pronunciation guide for the last few days:

Zouch = Zotch
Loughborough = Luff-burr-uh
Leicester = Lest-uh.]

Dog to dog blog: a quick visit in a Barrow

I think that's right; Mummy and I went to see Granny and Grandpa today, via a shop where Mummy bought ever so much beer in bottles for Grandpa; apparently he needs it to cope with all the women in his life, he says.

I don't know what that's supposed to be about, I mean I'm one of the women in his life, and I give him no trouble at all.

True, Mummy says I was not as good as I might have been last Sunday, when we went to a Fun Dog Show and Agility Demo. I was a bit worried, 'cos I thought the demo might be like the ones you hear about on the telly with people charging about and shouting and stroppy coppers and stuff, but it turned out just to be doing the usual agility stuff, but in a field with all strange people watching.

I wasn't too impressed, quite frankly, as Mummy made me wear my lead all the time, and I've got quite good at doing agility off the lead. I tried to let her see I wasn't happy; when it was our turn to go, I lay down and gave her my best "Sally's not impressed" look, but Mummy made me carry on anyway.

So I grabbed the slack of the lead in my mouth, and went round like that. It all went great until we got to the weave, when I got all fankled up and we had to start again. As soon as we'd finished, I lay down again, which got a big round of applause.

At the end of the show, when everyone else had had a go, Mummy let me go round off the lead. Thing is, I was well tired by then, and a bit fed up with all the waiting, so after the first few obstacles, I saw a big field in front of me and decided to go hunting bunnies instead.

Big mistake, loads of shouting and stuff. I thought "Need more speed here",  so I stopped to offload some poo, and carried on feeling much better. I made it into where there'd been a load of stalls, which were all being put away. I stopped to have a good look round, I mean there's often a chance of spare food, know what I mean? But this meant that Mummy caught up with me, put the lead on and made me go round the rest of the agility course.

That was just so unfair! If I was tired before, I was knackered by then. Had to kip all the way home and all the next day. So what happens next? We only go to Obedience Classes last night! It 's just too much, how much is a dog supposed to take?

Never mind, today was much quieter. We loaded up a parcel that had come for Granny and Grandpa yesterday, stopped off at the Brewery Shop, and went and found my boat at somewhere called Barrow-on-Soar.

It was a bit of a hike from where we parked the car to the boat, but I made it, had a seriously long drink, and then a good kip:

Me having a kip

We're back at home now; Mummy says I can have a charge about in my favourite field this afternoon, and then she's going to let me have another really good zizz while she goes riding.

It's like, so hard work, looking after humans!

Loads of licks

Your friend

Sally

Soaring along

Sorry, still hung up on punning names, looks like.

The forecast for today suggested that the best boating conditions would be first thing, so ten to seven saw me playing lockkeeper with the powered locks at Sawley. It was indeed a very pleasant morning, sunny and with very little wind, and Sanity Again fairly flew down the wide section of the Trent that leads to the four-way junction at Trent Lock.

Redhill flood lock was chained open, and we made good time to Ratcliffe, where I worked my first broad Grand Union style lock for a long time. The only problem we had was that we were still very early as we arrived at the short length of visitor moorings below Kegworth Shallow Lock (also chained open) and so couldn't stop to get a paper and some bread as two boats were managing to fill them.

It's for just this reason that I carry a couple of packs of part baked baguettes, and as long as we have a 3 signal, I can buy the Kindle version of the Independent on line. It's not as good as the print copy, as it's quite chaotically arranged and lacks most of the photos which make the Indie such a pleasure, and indeed it's not as good as getting the 20p i, the short version of the big paper, but it's a lot better than nothing.

We were joined up Kegworth Deep by a very pleasant couple from Cwmbran and their daughter, having their third holiday on a Canaltime boat. We rather got ahead of them in the reach from Kegworth to Zouch, but managed to hang back enough so that they could join us up Zouch Lock.

We've tied on the long visitor moorings here, having taken just over three hours for the run. The weather has indeed deteriorated a bit, as it's become very windy, with just the odd flurry of rain. This has given the folk still trying to boat a good few problems; I just hope that it's calmed down a bit tomorrow.

Our plan is to carry on to Barrow-on-Soar tomorrow, where Elanor is going to rendezvous with us with a couple of parcels that have arrived in the last week, and a supply of Marston's beer to keep us going.

A couple of photos to finish:

The Soar really is an enchanting river (when it's not in flood!)

Superb mansion at Kegworth

Goodbye Trent and Mersey

Apart from our trip to Norbury Junction, and the associated run up and down the Shropshire Union and Staffs and Worcs canals, we seem to have been haunting the Trent and Mersey since last September. It was therefore something of a relief to leave it behind for a while.

We made an early start, getting away from Swarkestone before eight. The lighter mornings mean that we're waking earlier, although we had to sleep with the bedroom Houdini closed last night as the rain poured down. A couple of guys were just setting off in a van from the BW base as we locked down Swarkestone; they were going to check the state of the River Soar.

As we approached Weston Lock, we passed the Darlington's boat, Phyllis May II, and they caught up with us in time to share down the next three locks, stopping after Shardlow to take on water. No sooner had we lost one partner than we gained another. A BW tug was just pulling out from the towpath with a GRP cruiser, Summat Else, in tow. At first I thought that it must be one that they'd seized for non-payment of licence, but the story was sadder than that. Apparently, she's not long changed hands, around six weeks ago, and has been the victim of theft, losing her outboard engine.

BW were taking her to Sawley, so shared down Derwent Mouth Lock with us. Towing an unpowered cruiser was quite a challenge for them in the winds we've been having today, but they managed to do it without any further damage to the boat.

We've tied on the extensive visitor moorings here opposite the marina. A trip across the cut to the chandlery after lunch enabled us to get a fresh supply of LeeScale descaler (at a fair price, I must say), so I've been able to clean up the kettle and the shower head, and will give the toilet the treatment overnight tonight.

We spent a bit of time gongoozling at the lock; there's no sign of problems with the river levels, I'm pleased to say. Indeed, after the drought we've had, it would be odd if even the heavy rain of last night made a lot of difference, though with the Soar, you never can tell.

Back at the boat, we took advantage of the handy water point to top up the tank, and I hauled the anchor, chain and warp out from the lower bow locker and rigged it. The Soar itself isn't a big deal, but there's that turn off the Trent onto the Soar past Thrumpton Weir that deserves respect.

Tomorrow, we plan to stop at either Kegworth or Zouch for the night.

Swarkestone in the rain

We lay in bed this morning listening to On your farm this week on Radio 4, which was about the impact of the driest spring in living memory and then some, and to the sound of the rain on the roof. It cleared up by the time we were ready to start boating, but only for long enough to lure us on our way.

It was Sheila's turn to steer, so after I'd worked Stenson Lock (during which time it started to rain in earnest again) I retreated below and read the paper. After a while, it moderated somewhat, just in time for mooring a little bit short of Swarkestone Lock. This section of canal is actually very pleasant, running as it does through unassuming countryside, not spectacular, just very relaxing.

If it wasn't for the ferocious locks, which are deep, broad and heavy to work, it would be ideal.

It was only half ten or so when we'd finished boating for the day, and we sat around inside for a time, drinking coffee and trying to persuade ourselves that we were warm enough. It wasn't all that cold, but everything was a bit soggy, and it just wasn't very pleasant. In the end, I gave up and lit the fire, which made an enormous difference.

Apart from anything else, the sun promptly came out and the rain went away (though we are promised some more of it tonight). Indeed, by the time we'd eaten lunch, we were too hot.

To escape the now roasting cabin, we took ourselves off for a stroll along the towpath to the lock; the visitor moorings were quite deserted, but we still felt better off where we were, just the other side of Bridge 15. The towpath by the VMs is also the approach road to the BW depot here, so cars drive past a few feet from the boats.

We went on over the canal and along the cycleway that follows the route of the derelict Derby Canal towards that town; not too far, as it was now quite warm and muggy. In fact, it was like trying to walk through an orchid house, and a little exercise went a long way. The canal is the subject of an ambitious restoration scheme, though it will take a bit longer than first hoped in the present economic climate.

We've spent the rest of the day loafing, quite frankly (except for Sheila's crochet, which she had to abandon after her fingers got too sweaty to carry on). The concise crossword has been done, an attempt made at the big general knowledge one, and we had a go at the quiz and Get the picture challenges in the Indie magazine.

It's a rough life, but someone has to do it, I guess.

To Willington

We'd thought when planning this trip that we'd stop at Shobnall Marina for diesel, but the bright sunny weather means that the solar panel has been earning its keep, and we've not used quite enough fuel charging the batteries. The thing is, Shobnall only offers a decent price if you take more than 100 litres, so it's a good idea to have plenty of room in the tank before stopping there. In addition, it's a bit of a pain turning into the arm to get fuel, so on balance we decided not.

We'd also thought about going to the Marston's Brewery shop for some beer for me, but they don't open until ten, so it all looked too much of a hassle.

Checking Sue's Diesel Splits webpage, I see that Sawley is described as "yes but need to negotiate" whereas Sileby Mill gets a straightforward yes. With more than half a tankful, I think we'll go for Sileby. Similarly, Elanor has asked us to dogsit for a weekend later this month, so I reckon it might be possible to persuade her to bring a case of ale for me at the same time.

We've taken to keeping the small camera in the radio cubby hole, making it easier to take photos as we go, and so to add some to this blog. I got a couple of shots of the site of this year's IWA Festival as we went past:

The exhibition boats will be here, with the show behind them

Some overnight moorers further along;
not recommended at the weekend, usually

My captions assume the layout will be similar to 2004, but I haven't seen the plans as yet. Although a very pleasant place to stop during the day, and fine at night during the week, probably, the park does become the haunt of less desirable characters at the weekend, so we wouldn't choose to stop there then.

Once down Dallow Lane Lock, you're on a broad waterway, as witness this boat seen near Bridge 25:

Clinically obese narrowboat

These wide beam "narrowboats" always look to me as if they've been stood on, or that the designer brought a diagram of the cross section of a conventional narrowboat up on his screen, clicked and held a handle on one side of the frame and pulled it out sideways. If you want a wider boat, why not go for a proper barge shape, like a luxemotor or tjalk?

Willington was pretty busy when we got here, but we found a mooring with no trouble and have spent the afternoon pottering about. We bought some petunia and campanula plants from the flower shop, and Sheila has potted them up in a trough, so we've made a start on the summer flowers on the roof.

Branston, but not pickled

We've made it to Branston today, having set off early and spent a bit of time on the Alrewas water point getting the tank good and full. As before, it also gave me time to pop into the village, get a paper and buy some more meat from the butchers. Coates opens very early in the morning, which is handy for those of us who like an early start.

We had a chance of a chat with Ann Street as we dropped down the river lock; Copperkins II was tied just the other side of the bridge from the water point.

The other highlight of the cruise was a tanker we saw as we descended Wychnor Lock. It was bright blue and decorated on the side with the company name. Now hairdressers are notorious for punning names (A Cut Above and It's a Snip and the like) and so are boats on the River Wey (Wey Ahead, Wey Down and so on) but the trend seems to be spreading to septic tank emptiers. The one we saw at Norbury Junction had as its motto "Number One in the Number Two Business", which was bad enough, but this one was called Suck*Cess.

Having arrived at Branston just in nice time for lunch, we were joined later on by Elanor and Sally bringing us our post, which let us get another lift to Morrisons, very handy. It's necessary to think ahead on this route, as the opportunities for serious shopping are quite restricted. After Burton, the next town we'll visit will be Loughborough in around five days time.

As forecast, the weather is showing signs of turning wetter, not so good for us, perhaps, but I'm sure it will be a relief to farmers and gardeners, not to mention those trying to ensure we've got enough water to float in for the summer.

Humph

It's got to the point where Sally gets more readers and more comments than I do.

I'd get her to do all the posts, but she's spent today sunbathing in the back garden, I'm told, and would only stir herself if I offered a lot of grub. Since she's just got down to her target weight (despite all the treat stealing and poo eating), this isn't an option, and you'll all have to go on putting up with grumpy old me.

(No, I'm not a doppelganger of Steve Haywood, his boat's called Justice, not Sanity Again. Draw your own conclusions.)

The good news is that Sheila and I both had a clean bill of health this morning from Mr Parmar, who has taken over the Alrewas Dental Practice from Dr Rana. This means that we'll be out of here tomorrow, heading for Sawley and then the Soar. I've set the route up on CanalPlanAC; enter 674_cp in the search box to see it. We don't guarantee to stop at the indicated places, mind, but it does give folks an idea of where we're likely to be when. In particular, we may well divert to Market Harborough for a few days.

This afternoon, we took a last stroll up to Fradley Junction for a while, and had an ice cream at the cafe; much better value than the pub, I might say.

BW have finally started repairing the broken wash wall by the water point, which gave us something to gaze at whilst slurping.

After today, therefore, the posts will at least have some serious boating to report, provided we stop somewhere with a decent 3 signal.

Surprisingly active day

Just to prove that we don't always spend the days when we're not cruising just loafing about, we've had quite a busy time today, sitting here at Alrewas waiting for our dental appointments tomorrow.

First off, I should report that Sally says thanks to all her admirers for their kind remarks about her blog post yesterday; she'll try to blog more often as there's such a demand. Woof!

On the subject of Sally's boating career, we spent the morning cleaning the boat, and several dustpans-full of dog hair were removed, as well as various strange shaped marks off the walls (Sally has a bit of a "thing" about shiny highlights flickering on surfaces, and sometimes tries to lick them off).

A washload was run at the same time, and we generally have a much smarter boat inside. After a walk this afternoon, we decided that the stove will be needed only occasionally for the rest of the spring and summer, so we've put the coal box, the scuttle and various associated bits and bobs away in the bow locker, leaving lots more room for sitting out in the well deck.

So all seemed hunky dory, when an email arrived from Susan at Braidbar, passing on one from Waterways World in connection with their organisation of Crick Show. I had hoped that having a waterways related company in charge would mean a better, more boater friendly show, but I am beginning to have my doubts.

In previous years, as with pretty well every other show or festival, boats booked to attend were given a specific location on the towpath at which to moor. For us at Crick, this has worked really well. The Braidbar boats bringing helpers to the show were all booked in by Susan, and so ended up moored together, making the socialising very easy, and providing a block of boats we could show to people who wanted to see what one looked like after a few years' use.

This year, instead:

All mooring will be on a first come first served basis so that we can utilise the full capacity of the mooring area. Boats can arrive anytime from Wedensday (sic) 25^th May. ... Boats should arrive together to ensure they will be moored together.

Since it'll be pretty well impossible to arrange for boats coming from all over the system to arrive together, we'll be spread out all down the line of moorings. I don't understand the "utilise the full capacity of the moorings" bit – surely the best way to do that is to sit with a plan and a list of the boats to be accommodated and work out the best arrangement?

At the IWA National Festival, volunteer organisers manage to do just that for between 350 and 500 boats, but apparently WW can't achieve it for around 50. The conclusion I come to is that this year's Crick Show isn't going to be run for the benefit of the boaters, the exhibitors or the visitors, it's being run for the convenience of the organisers.

Come on, WW, show us you can do better than that.

Please?

Dog to dog blog: great boating, shame about the wind.

Hi guys, Sally here again.

I've just spent the holiday weekend on Granny and Grandpa's boat, recovering from my first experience helping Mummy guard somewhere. We'd spent loads of nights in the car park of this pub in Shardlow (another canal connection, seemingly). Mostly we sat in the car while looking out at the darkness, but from time to time we went for a walk round the fence line and I woofed at anything I didn't like.

Not much happened, to be honest, except Mum got through a lot of quiches and stuff, but didn't give any to me, boo. Anyway, we've finished with that for a bit, so after a couple of days to get Mum's sleep pattern turned round (don't see the problem, myself, I mean, sleep all day, sleep all night, what's to change?) we drove across to meet Granny and Grandpa on their boat and had a bit of a trip along the canal.

This meant a visit to an ace walking place called Hopwas Woods; loads of rummaging and running around, some of it in a sort of field, and some in seriously big woods. Towards the end, there were some excellent squirrels to chase; I took off after one that made it up an oak tree and stopped to pull faces.

I'd got up to full speed, uphill too, mark you, and hit that tree so hard I was well up it before the traction ran out and I had to drop back. I nearly had the little so and so, but as usual it cheated and ran off further up the tree.

Never mind, it was a serious result, and I pranced all the way back to the boat.

Lots of ducks about, and the odd swan, so a bit of barking practice there too. Mum's trying to train me not to bark at people, dogs and cyclists going past, which is a bit of a drag, but I get a treat for every time I don't do it, which is some compensation, I guess.

At Fradley, Mum tried to make me jump over the rail between the road and the towpath, so for a laugh I went underneath. She wasn't too pleased about that, so the next time, when she told me to go under it, I jumped over, just to even things up.

Today, I helped work the locks back to Alrewas where Mum had left the car. That was good fun too; I can walk across the top gates no sweat now, and had loads of admirers into the bargain.

We did more running about at Alrewas, in the field by the river, but there's a herd of cows in it, and though they were down the far end, I was worried that they might smell my breath, so scoffed a load of fresh cow dung to try and mask it a bit.

Mum didn't seem to think that that was a good idea, specially after I wiped some of it off my face onto her hand. I mean, what's that about? There's just no pleasing humans sometimes.

It's been the same with the wind. Everyone's been complaining about the wind this weekend, but like I say, it's better out than in, makes quite a musical note if I hold my bum down on the wooden floor as it comes out, and if it's a bit niffy, who chooses my food, eh?

Loads of licks (did you want poo with that?)

Your friend

Sally

Fradley on a Sunday for once

Fradley on a Bank Holiday Sunday is nearly as frantic as on a freaky Fradley Friday. The strong sun and persistent wind all added to the sense of franticity, but despite it all, we managed to get ourselves a mooring in the usual place.

Before doing so, we stopped for just a quick top up on the water points on the Coventry, which were much in demand. There was only a limited choice of places below Junction Lock, but we were able to find one at the far end which suited nicely. Here we've sat for the rest of the day, watching a lot of traffic go past, boats including Streamline our old share boat and cars and pedestrians all streaming by.

It's good to see a canalside venue so popular, of course, which should in theory bode well for the prospects for the New Waterways Charity.

Sheila and I washed the port side of the boat as planned, then didn't do much else bar crochet and reading. The wind has been a bit tedious, just too gusty to make sitting out a pleasure, but apart from that there's not been much to complain about.

Elanor and Sally showed up after lunch, Elanor having had her ride this morning and then taken some time to wash her car and get a bath in the comfort of her own home. Sally is in disgrace, having found an unguarded bag of treats and scoffed the lot, so she'll be having short rations at dinner time, weight control still being an issue.

Elanor and I went off to Morrisons and got a serious shop in, then Elanor took the car away to park it down in Alrewas and walk Sally back up the towpath. Tomorrow, we'll boat down there, hopefully getting a mooring above Bagnall Lock, and Elanor and Sally can drive home.