Bad Manners

I don't like to moan. No really.

But sometimes one gets that "Victor Meldrew Moment"

We had a wonderful cruise yesterday. We took additional crew with us a little way up the canal and they had a lovely time. ("The best Sunday afternoon ever") It wasn't spoiled by coming bow to bow with a Napton boat whose forward lookout was playing the ukelele rather than looking out. We all started as hirers and there was no physical contact. It's all in the boating experience. I just sang about the captain who played as his boat sank!

When we got to Cropredy there was a hold up. One of the local long term moorers could not get his boat out of the winding hole because a Calcutt Boat was moored opposite it! They had 'popped to the shop'. We couldn't turn because the winding hole was choked. Impass. Eventually the hirers who remained with the boat were persuaded to rope the boat back toward the bridge to allow normal proceedings to resume.

We met the crew of this boat again on the way back to Banbury after our meal. We met them as we came out of Little Boughton Lock because they were moored on the lock mooring! There are three bollards at this lock but with two of them occupied and the towpaths overgrown to a height of seven feet with nettles and cow parsley there was little option bit to try to pull up behind them to get my crew back on board. I didn't mean to but I nudged them a bit as I pulled away again.

I met them again this morning. I was assisting Jack on Iron Maiden who was single handing through lift bridge and lock. He was waiting for the boat blow the lock to enter and work up. This boat however, was waiting to get on the facilities mooring below the lock to empty the cassette toilet, dispose of rubbish and take on water. Who was on the mooring? You've guessed it, the Calcutt crew most of whom had just "nipped off for a bit of shopping". After I approached the
man left with the boat who was on the phone to the rest of the crew, he agreed to move over to the other side of the canal thus reliving the blockage from the lock entrance, and a taxi arrived at the Mill car park with the rest of the crew.

Surely it is not too much to ask people to have a little respect for etiq1uette on the canal?

How can one have such bad manners?

"I don't believe it!"

We meet again

Here are Jo and Keith with their beautiful replica of a GUCC Northwich Class working narrowboat, nb Hadar. Jo left me a message to say they were in town and I walked down to the 14 day moorings to meet up with them again.I love to chat to canal folk. Funny, the conversation came around to engines again! This time their wonderfully restored National DA-2 Deisel which sits proudly in the engine room. Not just any old National 3 cylinder engine like we saw recently restored in Canal Boat (Dec 2007) but this one is one of just TWO! Must make getting spares a little difficult!

The boat is a real worker too, proudly displaying a commercial license and having a cargo of coal on board for any prospective purchasers. Jo made it clear that They were not trying to intrude on "Dusty' who is the boating coal merchant on this stretch of the Oxford Canal. They had spoken with him very recently about the nightmare of diesel excise duty changes! They want to stay on good terms. But....if anyone is hard up for a bag or two the stock is there!

Jo reminded me that it was 2005 when we last met in town and they were then in the process of having Hadar built. It was good to see the dream come true and I wish them well on their travels around the system.

You can keep up with them on their Hadar's blog. Can SONFLOWER'S LOG be promoted to "Boaters we've met" now Jo?

Tom's best Birthday week ever

This was received by email from my nephew Tom. (See previous post "In the beginning. . .")


My Best Birthday Week…Ever!
Having over exerted ourselves during the Notting Hill carnival at the start of the week, Ang (my Fiancee) and I were looking forward to filling the remainder of my Birthday week with relaxation. As my Uncle Peter explained, we were over the moon when the Sonflower was made available to us.

Uncle Peter’s tuition was very thorough, but not overly so. We soon found that maneuvering a boat 57 foot long and weighing more tons than I can comprehend was no easy task for complete novices as we were. I was glad to find that Uncle Peter was very keen for us to take the controls and learn from the driving seat. I recall that when I was learning how to play tennis, my coach had told me that you can learn everything you need to know about hitting a ball well in a day, but to do it takes practice. Even so, I caught myself wondering how much had sunk in to my sieve like brain as the list of things to remember and consider grew. It was my hope that what I was inevitably to forget would be remembered by my better half as is so often the case in our relationship.

The tuition was largely without incident, apart from one collision into the side of a particular tricky narrow part of the canal. I was to learn that guiding a boat through a clearing of no more than a foot each side was tricky at the best of times, but when that foot is to be judged 57 feet in front of you, the task is altogether more daunting. It was clear after this collision that this boat was no bumper car and I was clear in my mind that this was not something I wanted to do again.

Uncle Peter appeared happy to leave us with the keys, however Ang and I sensed how precious the narrow boat was to my Uncle and perhaps I could not blame him for being slightly apprehensive.
The fresh air ensured we slept well that night. There is no denying that the following morning we both were nervous about the journey we were about to undertake. We had looked at the map and decided on a realistic goal for the day. From Banbury, where we were moored to Cropredy. This encompassed a few locks and a dreaded turning point before heading back the following day.

I was to be in control of steering for the best part having taken to it slightly quicker than Ang the previous day. It was very easy to forget how slowly we were moving due to the fact that steering still required a lot of thought and concentration. As such, it was to my surprise when a rucksack laden man strode past us on the towpath on one occasion. Ang was to be in charge of navigation and locks. The going was good and as the journey progressed we became more relaxed and started to take in and enjoy the experience. Corners were rounded, locks were tackled and oncoming boats floated by.

What I had not expected was the willingness of others to help us along the way. On the first day Ang did not open a lock without somebody to take care of the second lock gate. We were thankful for this help and I thought that perhaps the fact we sized up each lock and talked through the process before starting each one may have given away our novice status.

I was soon becoming more comfortable with my steering and was prepared when we arrived at Cropredy to turn the boat around. I had learnt that turning the boat was no easy feat and involved a lot of aiming, stopping and starting - things which did not come naturally to a boat of such length and weight. The turn itself would have been faultless had the boat been one inch shorter! As it was, I found myself attached to the concrete bank by the knot at the front of the boat (he means the button, Ed). This was quickly overcome with a firm push, which enabled me to swing the boat ready for our return journey.

Having visited the Red Lion in the late afternoon for a few celebratory drinks, we looked forward to our evening meal that did not disappoint (Starter: chorizo sausage, main: steak and ale pie, desert: chocolate cheese tart). Evening entertainment consisted of a pub quiz where the locals got the better of us.
I think we were both very relaxed about the journey home, we enjoyed the journey so much that we deliberately over shot Uncle Peter's Mooring place so that we could get another lock, lift bridge, turn around , lock and lift bridge again and were able to fill the water tank before finally reaching the end of a most enjoyable experience. We were truly sorry that this experience was at an end and very thankful for the generosity showed by the boat’s first crew.

I was also thankful for those people who had been so friendly to us along the way. I guess the canal and the people on it are far removed from the hustle and bustle of life in a city. The proximity to nature; the calm lack of urgency must make for a friendly environment. Friendly acknowledgements from passers by was something I fondly remember of living in a small village… and now the canal too.