Bad weather boating

If we hadn’t just been on a 48 hour mooring for two days, we would probably have stayed put today; the atrocious forecast turned out to be all too accurate. Periods of rain alternated with periods of drizzle, with the occasional spell of torrential downpour in case you were getting bored.

In addition the wind came and went, but at times was moderately ferocious.

We afterwards discovered that we’d both pondered suggesting overstaying, but neither had got round to voicing the idea, with the result that, after another rather broken night, we set out to climb the hill at ten to seven.

It was Sheila’s turn to lockwheel; she put on a waterproof jacket but no trousers, preferring to let her legs get wet in shorts. I covered up completely as I was to be standing on the back for the morning. As it was, none of our waterproofs coped with the conditions, with the exception of my trousers, which were sheltered by the cabin for much of the time, and my winter weight jacket into which I changed when I realised that I was soaked to the skin all down my front.

It was just a case of slogging on through the storm, proving that we can still boat in bad conditions. We didn’t see a lot else moving until Hassal Green where we crossed with a privateer. Shortly after, Priscilla II emerged from the mirk heading down – we just had time for a shouted hello.

I’d started a washload as the boat rose in the lock alongside Malkin’s Bank golf club; it takes a while to get it going as we add seven 2 litre jugs of hot water to save using the washing machine's heating element.

That was all done by the time we arrived at Rode Heath, where we’ve found a mooring just before the winding hole.

After a change of clothes and a mug of soup apiece, Sheila sorted out the washing whilst I went to the shop for a paper, bread and other perishables. It being meat free Monday, I’ve decided we’re having cheese and onion omelettes tonight, possibly with extra mushrooms, and accompanied by home baked crusty rolls, the dough for which is rising as I type this.

We’ll sit tight tomorrow and then carry on up to Church Lawton on Wednesday.

As I was writing this post, Peter phoned from Tiree. It seems they are not having a fast day’s cruise; someone had drained the pounds between the Middlewich Three overnight, then a boat was cilled, then someone else broke their wrist on an out-of-control windlass. As a result it took Tiree over four hours to get from Croxton to above Kings Lock.

We might see them yet, or they may come charging past in the morning…

/blur